Watch Me Fall

by Nora Flite

  Leaning away , I saw how her leotard was straining between her ass cheeks. It hugged the lips of her cunt, created a target for me. “Don't let go of the barre, do you understand?” I whispered.

  Her nod was rapid; she was vibrant with excitement. More and more, I wondered about this woman.

  On the floor behind her, I stretched on my stomach between her legs. The delicious curves of her rump were right in my face. For a minute, I did nothing but watch; I had an eyeful, her lower half constantly twitching as she struggled to wait.

  A hint of her scent tickled my nose. That musk, that fucking slippery wetness that called my name. Under me, my prick was hot on my own skin. My thumbs hooked under the edges of her leotard; Noel startled.

  I had no patience for clothes. Digging in with all my muscles, I grunted and shredded the crotch of the outfit away. Her whimper was delightful to my ears. But, then I saw the pink lips of her soaked pussy. That was true ecstasy.

  Spreading her wide with my thumbs, I buried my face in her smooth cunt and went to town. Noel went wild; she started to close her legs.

  Halting my meal, I sat up and slapped my palm onto her left ass cheek. The explosion of sound—her squeak—was fuel for my Noel-based-drug-addled-brain. “Don't fucking move,” I hissed. Lowering my hands, I forced her thighs so far into the split her hips went taut. “I thought you said you understood?”

  “I—I do!” Through the back of her leotard, a long patch of sweat had grown. Noel glanced at me over her shoulder. Nothing but radiant lust glowed in her jewel-blue eyes. “I won't move again, I promise.”

  Holy fuck, I needed to remember to breathe.

  Running my tongue up her snatch, I covered my nose in her juices. Noel wanted me as much as I wanted her. And, though I felt the hot, flickering redness on the edge of my vision, so far she'd proven herself right. I hadn't hurt her at all.

  I was grinding my pelvis into the floor; I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to feel that spectacular looking pussy wrapped around my aching cock. Standing, I saw myself in the reflection; the eager shape of my dick protruding obscenely through my shorts. Rubbing my palm over the length, I slid the cloth down to my ankles.

  Noel was transfixed on me. Not even subtle, she was rubbing herself into the floor. The sight of her lewdness sent another sharp spark into my belly. “You're still sure?” I asked, two fingers running over my swollen cock-head through my dancer's belt.

  She nodded, didn't seem able to stop. Wetting her lips, Noel mouthed the words that flicked my brain off entirely. Words that crept into my skull, slid down my throat and took hold of my fibers and blood.

  “Fuck me.”

  My underwear fell away. Pumping myself in my fist, I moved closer. I wanted to feel the mouth that had spoken so perversely on my hard prick. She had a fleeting moment—fear or shock—as I threw her off of the barre.

  Landing hard on her back, Noel only had time to get up on her knees. For my goal, that was perfect. “Ah!” she cried, my grip solid in her hair. Yanking her close, smelling her sweat, I aimed the ridge of my dick at her shiny mouth at. I hoped she'd prepared and filled her lungs with air. My need was greater than my worry about her blacking out.

  Groaning, I forced Noel to take my length over her tongue. It didn't matter to me if she'd deep-throated before or not, I was pushing myself as far as I could. My balls brushed her chin, her nose lost in my pubic hair.

  Holding her tight, I fucked Noel's face and shivered. I wanted to scream and howl, to slam so hard into her sweet mouth. Panting, I felt her drooling, fighting to keep up with me. The room was flooded with wet noise, throaty gasps. My core was seething, desperate to send my come down the gullet of this woman.

  This beautiful, insane fucking woman.

  Nails dug into my thighs; Noel was pushing at me, trying to get free. I ground against her lips harder. She went wild, muffled cries and hard claws that broke my skin. Flaring my nostrils, I lost myself further in the rush.

  And then I was vibrating; tingles cascading to my toes. Noel stopped shoving me, working instead to swallow the warm seed I was pouring into her belly. I saw black, blue, and more red before I was done.

  Popping free, the suction was loud. Noel's jaw was dripping with saliva, her blue eyes watery. In great heaves she breathed, kneeling at my feet. Reaching down, I fisted my slippery cock. I'd climaxed, but I wasn't anywhere near done.

  I slid my hands onto her chest, cupped the swells of her breasts. Yanking the material, it parted from her body and exposed her creamy torso. Snowy skin, unmarred and clean as a canvas.

  Kneeling, I curled my arms around her back, held her steady so I could deliver my personal signature. Teeth nipped, biting harder when she moaned. Like a crack addict, I sucked and nibbled and bruised her flesh until it was swelling with ugly blemishes.

  Ugly and glorious.

  I turned Noel into something artistic. I painted her with my brush, a thing crafted from a greedy mouth and a sense of cruelty. A few times she sobbed, but when I thought I'd pushed her too far, the girl reached down and felt for my still hard cock. “Why won't you do it?” she growled, “why won't you actually fuck me?”

  “Because once I do,” I said against her stiff nipple, “I'll be hooked. Do you really want to do that? Make me addicted to your hungry cunt and your pretty screams?”

  Noel put her forehead on my shoulder. Her cheek was damp; tears, sweat, my come? “I don't care. I don't care what happens after this. I just need you right here, right now, Carter.”

  Sitting on the floor, I finally obliged.

  I lifted her onto me, wrapped her thighs so her heels dug into my lower back. It was so simple to guide my thickened cock into her. Those pussy lips were silky, eager. They pulled me in and strangled me until I was growling against her ribs.

  Noel came fast; I'd barely moved. Pounding into her clenching walls, her lovely sobs in my brain, I fucked her until my skull throbbed. I was crushing her with my fingers, sliding them up higher and higher.

  They touched her throat, and I struggled to fight back my desire.

  Here it was, this was what had lured me in; what tempted me even still. How would she sound if she was in danger? If she felt the danger? To choke her elegant neck and feel the flutter of her jugular until it convulsed and finally stopped.

  I swear, so much of me didn't want to kill her. I was high on animalistic lust, lost in the fog of instinct. I wasn't going to diagnose myself in the middle of fucking her...

  But I was pretty positive I was sick.

  Noel wheezed under my fingers, her breath quickening again. I let go, saw the fingerprints marring her neck. She couldn't focus on me, her eyes were off somewhere else. Coal-black lashes folded when she orgasmed a second time, throwing her head back and displaying the bruises even better.

  It made me flex inside of her; pushed me back over the cliff. The pleasure was stronger than when I'd buried myself past her tonsils. Hissing through clenched teeth, I hugged Noel and felt my jizz filling her up.

  Awash in glory, I let the poisonous need to hurt this girl fade away. I hadn't realized how wobbly my vision had gone until my head cleared. Looking down, I expected steam to be wafting from us.

  Noel started to disengage. Halting, she brushed my hair from my forehead and leaned in to kiss me. I tasted every flavor of sex on her tongue. “I'm still in one piece, more or less.”

  Holding her at a distance, I saw the marks and had to agree. God, the damage was everywhere. I loved it. “You should count yourself lucky,” I said.

  Her grin displayed every tooth. “Maybe I already do.”

  Shaking my head, I looked around the room at the torn up clothes. They could have been chunks of Noel. I had come inches from suffocating her, from crushing her windpipe just to see if it would feel as good as it had three years ago.

  For whatever reason, she'd come out of our encounter alive...

  And she wasn't running in terror.

  It wasn't a situation I'd ever envisioned ge
tting myself into. But, what I'd claimed was true; it was too late to walk away.

  I'd had my first dose of Noel Addison and it had sunk into my atoms.

  Studying her bruises, I couldn't say I was sure I'd do less next time...

  I only knew there would be a next time.

  - Chapter Eight -

  Noel Addison

  There are moments in our lives when we question who we are. Wonder if the choices we make reflect us, or the person we saw ourselves as from the outside.

  Standing in the bathroom, looking at the bruises waltzing up my inner thighs and stomach, I had that moment. Pushing a finger gently on the plum colored marks, I held back a sound; a laugh, a sob, I wasn't sure.

  I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

  Who the hell am I? Grimacing, I pulled the thick sweater back over my head. I took a long minute to fix my hair, make sure nothing was out of place. If I did that, I could almost fool myself... pretend nothing about me was different or wrecked or torn to ribbons. On the outside, I could fool others.

  I wished I could fool myself.

  Sighing, I let my forehead touch the cool surface over the sink. Yeah, I'm definitely insane. How else do I explain what I let happen back there? It had exploded out of my control so fast. One second, Carter was spinning me like a music box topper. Then he was all teeth and growls and sultry decadence.

  And pain.

  Pain that I loved, I reminded myself. I'd never, ever had sex like that. Carter had taken what he felt like taking. He'd even come inside of me, no condoms! The guy hadn't offered or suggested one, as if he just didn't care about the consequences. At least I'm on birth control. Last thing I need right now is to end up pregnant.

  Just thinking about how he'd made me feel, his grip strangling the flow of my pulse, it made me tremble. Was this always inside of me? This black and smokey thing that wanted to balance on the razor of danger?

  Carter had warned me from the start. I hadn't believed him—not fully. How stupid was I to assume I was safe? Bruises are what he left this time. Next time... next time might be worse.

  Fuck, it made me wet.

  Yup. I banged my head on the mirror a few times. It didn't fix my dark hunger. Insane. Crazy Noel, crumbling to pieces.

  None of this was what I'd come to Paris for. God, Mom. What do I do now? He was my teacher! Finishing the ballet program would let me complete my dream. It also meant seeing him constantly, watching him move and talk and remembering what his fingers and tongue had done to me.

  Things had become complicated too fast.

  Checking myself once more, grateful there were no marks where anyone would see, I left the bathroom. The house was quiet, I hadn't seen anyone at all. It was already past two, they were probably eating lunch somewhere in the city.

  Entering my room, I saw Bronta's bed was empty. That was good; I just wanted to sleep, and she'd have asked me why I was so tired.

  Falling onto the mattress, I hooked my arm over my eyes. In the blackness of my lids, I saw his tantalizing visage. He was perfect, lean and strong... exquisite. Rolling on my side, I reached for my backpack. I might be able to clear my head with some reading. Hell, I could practice my French. That would strain my brain to the limit.

  My fingers touched something hard and small. Blinking, I lifted the gold ring into the light. Seeing it sent a kick to my ribs. Everything we've done, and Carter—he still doesn't remember that he saved me. Or, if he had, was he pretending not to? It didn't make sense, and I was too scared to bring it up.

  Twisting the piece of jewelry, I slid it over my finger. The sensation of it snuggling into place was erotic; my nape prickled. If he sees it, it could jump start his memory. The idea was silly—it shouldn't have even mattered. Carter had kissed me and touched me and—and made me see stars.

  I shouldn't have needed him to recall that one, stupid day.

  Leaning on my pillows, I held my hand above me. This is the only proof that event happened. He'd swept in and shaken the scammers off, never asked for anything in return. Now he's getting anything he wants from me. It could have been karma.

  If only one person remembers something, is it like it never happened at all?

  Tucking my fist under my chin, I fell asleep with the ring on.

  ****

  Bronta woke me, shaking my shoulder until my eyes cracked. “Hey,” she said gently, “Noel? Get up, we need to go. It's already seven-thirty.”

  I sat up like Frankenstein. “I—what? It's what time?” My head felt swollen, too big for my neck.

  Standing up, my roommate studied my face. “We have thirty minutes. What's wrong, are you sick or something? You always beat me out of the house.”

  “No, no.” Yes. I'm sick in the head. Carefully, my bones arguing with me, I rolled out of the bed. “I'm fine, just had a rough Sunday.” Okay, I thought with chagrin, putting it that way is too accurate.

  Bronta lifted an eyebrow at me, not pushing further.

  There wasn't time to do anything but change for class. Throwing on clean clothes—particularly dark tights and a turtleneck to hide my bruises—I stumbled out into the chilly morning on the heels of my roommates. I was in such a fuzzy state, I didn't feel the ring on my finger until I was tying my hair back in the studio.

  Once I'd noticed it, I couldn't stop feeling it squeezing. Thumbing the edge of the metal became a nervous tick. Standing at the back wall, I was as far from the door as I could be when Carter entered.

  He stalked inside, a panther on two legs. He'd always had an intensity to him, and today, it was dripping from every pore. His voice rang out; I stood at attention. “Morning, everyone.” Calm steps carried him down our line. “I hope you all slept well.” A knowing smirk bloomed. “You'll need your energy today.”

  He acted like he was speaking to everyone.

  I knew his words were meant for me.

  My bones were useless and soft, threatening to stop supporting me at any second. How was I going to keep myself together for class? Carter strolled my way. Each time his heel went down, I felt a thump in my heart.

  He turned sideways, fingers grazing his cheek. The bruises on my hips resonated with memory.

  Yes. Today was going to be a challenge.

  Starting up the class like normal, he had us go through our slower exercises. Each time I moved a limb, it felt heavy. I wasn't centered like I normally was. Mentally focusing was out of reach.

  Carter turned the music up, guided us to the center of the room for partner work. Okay, I told myself, just get it together. This is what you live for, dancing is where you find your tranquility. There's nothing more satisfying than it. No rush like dancing. Lying to myself was pointless. There was a new rush for me. He thrilled me more than any ballet steps ever had.

  One of my classmates approached me, his grin delighted at the opportunity. Carter cut him off, swooping in. The boy who had been coming my way, planning to be my partner, looked decidedly unsure about what to do.

  Carter gave him a sideways glance, the only indication he was aware of the guy's existence. “I'll be working with you today, Noel,” he said with a smile. “I think you're at a level where you'll only benefit from someone with real experience.”

  My skin itched and throbbed. I knew all eyes were on me. Did Carter not care what this looked like? Chewing my lip, I let him move behind me. On cue we began the steps, everyone following along, following our lead.

  My muscles were jelly; they kept shaking. I was off my game, and even still, it was crystal clear that the pair of us out shined the other participants.

  Our movements were perfect. I bent where Carter made me bend. I stretched exactly as he told me to stretch. Carter forced me on my toes and I let myself be manipulated. Working with him like this should have been a wonderful experience; a wonderful chance to hone my skills.

  Instead, my head was buzzing, unable to shake off the similarities between what we were doing now and what we had done yesterday. There was a possessiveness in the
way he touched me, saying to the world, 'you're mine, Noel. Let them all see that you belong to me. Let them see what you walked into, what you agreed to.'

  Hadn't I agreed to it? That sinful, dangerous claim that I wasn't afraid of him... I'd sat myself inside this situation so cockily.

  Carter's palms slid down my waist, taking an excruciatingly long time to settle. Tips of his fingers gouged, made me wince.

  He'd been keeping up appearances, but it had been a fragile shell of a disguise. Professionalism vanished when he set his chin on the hollow between my jaw and my shoulder. It was an intimate gesture, not part of the dance. His stubble scraped at my flesh and left it raw. He did nothing, said nothing... just exhaled a long, slow breath of air.

  I couldn't resist, I closed my eyes and leaned back against him. He'd worn me down without any push-back. My brain should have screamed at me.

  My body was too pleased to obey.

  He transformed the pose into a twist, balanced me at an angle I could never have held without support. I was breathing heavily when the routine was finished; none of it was from exertion.

  It was impossible to lift my eyes and face anyone else in that room. They didn't need to look at my expression, they'd see the shameful hunger, know the things I wanted to do to my teacher. On quick feet I scurried away from Carter, hid myself back in the corner.

  God, I'm a wreck. This was a first. It terrified me. I couldn't dance right, a problem I wasn't familiar with. And it's my fault. Dammit!

  Carter had created an illusion for the world. I'd dared him to show me what was on the other side. The purple marks all over my soft flesh said I couldn't take any of it back. True, the wounds would heal with time, but he'd left bruises on my brain.

  On my heart.

  Carter had wormed his way inside of me. Seeing how he behaved today, in front of other people, I knew he didn't care what anyone thought. I'd been warned by Bronta about the inappropriateness of flirting with my teacher. Carter had to know that this was a risk he was putting himself—and myself—through, but the way he touched me, spoke to me, breathed on my skin and inhaled my sent... I wasn't convinced he was scared.