Page 43 of Break Me
He strokes his palms up and down my body, over my stomach and down my spine, as he holds me there, half impaled on his shaft. Heat spreads through my nervous skin, seeping into the tattered remains of my being and repairing the damage he has made—building something new that is molded to him and more purposeful than anything I’ve ever felt.
I want him to consume me fully and utterly. And he does as he starts moving again, pressing on until he reaches the hilt.
I’m crying quietly as he sinks in place, eradicating everything I once was and am to make room for his possession. I’m filled to the brim—physically and mentally.
Reaching a hand in front of me, he slides down my stomach and pushes a finger under the piercings. Onto my clit. Sparks and lightning erupt in my nerves, making me yelp and buck as my whole body comes alive. The pain around his massive intrusion morphs the same way the pain he delivered with his hands did. Heat and pleasure spread into my core from all directions. He leans in to slide his tongue up my neck, and suddenly, something is about to explode. My whole body strums tight, yet loosens to invite him in as he starts moving.
“Good girl, taking all of my cock,” he growls, half hums, as he drags himself along my inner walls. “I’m gonna come inside you in a moment. I can’t hold much longer. I’ve wanted this since the first time I played with your ass.”
“Please,” I whimper, wanting just that. “Please. I want it. I want you.”
“Yes, you do. And I want you to show me just how much by coming with me inside you. Squeeze that tight ass of yours and show me how much you need me.”
“Yes,” I moan, my pulse beating hard as the pleasure builds inside me. It tightens at my core, tightens my muscles, building and building until he rears back and pushes all the way in with one long, slow, agonizing, blissful thrust that throws me over. And then he’s coming too, growling as he shoots his cum inside me, swelling to the point of new agony. But the pain only lasts a second before it transforms into a pleasure higher than anything I’ve ever known.
“Dax,” I scream as I come. My world tears apart with explosions of colors and sensations. “I’m yours. I’m yours,” I repeat as a mantra. The most meaningful words I’ve ever spoken.
He doesn’t respond as we both come down and he finally releases me from the ropes. I don’t think he knows how. He wants to own me—as more than a sub he’s training to sell—but he doesn’t know how.
24
DAX
My sub is right.It’s the first thought that pops into my head as I slowly wake up in her cell with her in my arms. She already belongs to me, body and soul. I feel it as much as she does. But even as my whole system seems to know it, my head struggles to catch up. Because I don’t know how to own someone beyond the violence and constant control I exert down here. I don’t know how to make myself vulnerable and fall asleep with another person in my arms. Yet somehow, I did it. I fell asleep in her cell once again. But I have no idea where to go from here.
As I tighten my arms around her and inhale her sweet scent, I know for sure.I want her.I want to keep her to myself.I want to stay here and comfort her and make sure she’s okay after the brutality I unleashed upon her last night. I want to take care of her even as I control her. Maybe even take her out of here. Bring her up to my quarters and keep her there, where the sun shines and she can see the mountains and the trees.
But that idea gives rise to another urge. One that has become so embedded within me that it’s instinctive. I’m not sure where it comes from, if it’s the army and all the losses I suffered there, my many failures as a regular Dom in the regular world, or just something that has snuck up and solidified over time. It’s the urge to close myself off and take control that wins the upper hand and makes me slip off the mattress and leave her cell.
During the next few days, I distance myself from her. Instead of taking her to my office and letting her comfort the girls and help me there, I keep her in her cell most of the time. Whenever I do enter her cell, the first thing I do is demand she stays quiet, not giving her a chance to speak before the muzzle is in place, and when it’s time for her to eat, I leave her alone with the food. I don’t want to risk hearing her say those words again.I’m already yours.I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me.
But what scares me even more is the way I act when I don’t have her close. I’m unfocused, cranky as hell, and tired. Even my insomnia is getting worse. I sometimes spend nights on end without shutting my eyes for more than one or two hours a night, and those hours are riddled with nightmares.
I feel out of control and unraveled, and it scares the shit out of me. So I consider selling her. But every time I open my laptop to look at my list of potential buyers, I slam it shut within seconds. The mere idea of her going to any other man has me feeling sick to my stomach.
So I keep postponing, hoping something will happen to shove me out of this rut.
***
“I need you to add a girl to the auction tonight,” Dorin says when he comes into my office one day.
“Which girl?” I clip, unable to hide my persistent irritation.
“248101,” he states.
I throw him a surprised look. “Number one? The girl who sings?” The one he seemed so protective of after he had punished her.
“Just do it,” he snaps and is out the door before I can respond.
I don’t dig anymore into it, staying out of others’ business just as I prefer they stay out of mine.
So I add her to the list and go about my usual routine as a guard brings her into my office for me to prepare her. I wax her, flush out her bowels, and do a quick medical exam. Then I pass her on to a guard who makes sure to hose her down, get her into the right outfit, and take her to the auction room.
All the while I have her on my table, I keep thinking about my sub. After Dorin asked me to put the blonde on auction, I decided it would be best to keep my sub in her cell for the rest of the day. Seeing how she reacted to Dorin’s girl getting punished, I don’t think she would react well to knowing the blonde is getting sold.
But once I’m done for the night and go upstairs, I can’t shake the itchy feeling that I made the wrong decision. Restlessness has my legs bouncing as I weigh the pros and cons—wondering if she’ll hate me when she finds out her friend is gone and I didn’t let her say goodbye.
It shouldn’t matter. She submits to me and I decide what happens to her. But no matter how much I try to rationalize, I can’t shake the itching worry that she’ll hate me.