The Audition(16)
***
He is indeed fast asleep. His bedroom door is ajar, and I push it open and tiptoe in.
I’m being bold. Really, really brave. But I’m tired of lying to myself. I’m tired of going through life feeling only surface emotion. I’m ready again for intensity and passion.
I’m naked. Somehow, though I felt my nudity most acutely at the start, I’ve grown used to it as the days have gone by. I hover by the side of the bed, looking down on his peaceful face, before I slip in next to him, and snuggle against his body.
He makes a noise in his throat, a growl of contentment, and wraps his arms around me. I move closer to him and I just lie there, feeling incredibly secure and peaceful.
I don’t mean to, but I fall asleep.
He is awake when I finally stir, but he’s still holding me. I scramble away, embarrassed to be caught in his bed, but his grip around me tightens. “Running away?” he asks.
I can feel his erection against my ass. In a way, it bolsters me to know that he is attracted to me. But he’s also made no move towards acting on it, and it stings, and it makes me unsure. “I don’t know. You tell me.” I sigh. “Do you want me, Nikolai? Because I’m around you and naked, and you just seem to ignore me.” My voice has a tremor in it that I hate.
“Allie.” He exhales. “Of course I want you. You are beautiful and talented and intelligent, and it’s killing me to do the right thing.” I can hear the thread of humour in his voice. “Though I’m probably stretching the definition of the right thing.”
“Why is it the right thing to avoid me?”
He strokes my cheek. “Because you are vulnerable, myshka, and you want to pass your Juilliard audition so very much. So much so that your ability to make rational choices has been compromised.”
“Well, that’s patronizing as all fuck,” I snap. Please. Does he really think that I’d be curled up in his bed in the absence of genuine desire? The cage isn’t that uncomfortable. “I’m not a child anymore.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says dryly. “Trust me, that’s very, very obvious.”
“Don’t treat me like a child then.”
“Ask for what you want.” His voice tickles my ear, even as his hands run over my body, pulling my hips towards him so that my ass is nestled right up against his erection.
If I stop to reflect, I might call myself an idiot. After all, our time together ends in two days, when I head back to New York and to my audition. But I know that if I don’t ask for this, I’m going to spend my entire life regretting my silence, and wondering – what if? When I reply, my voice is certain. “I want you to fuck me.”
“I like my sex kinky.”
I roll my eyes. He’s had me sleep in a cage the last few days. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” I mutter, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
He smacks my ass. “Don’t be trite. I’m doing the full disclosure thing.”
“Do I have to call you Master?” This time, the sarcasm shines through, loud and clear.
“Sir during a session,” he responds, remaining serious and ignoring my sass.
I expect to be outraged, but only heat trickles through me. “I think I can do that,” I whisper, turning towards him. “Can we do it now?”
He laughs out aloud, and smacks my ass again. The crack echoes around the room. “That one hurt,” I accuse, rubbing at the spot where his hand had made stinging contact.
“It’s meant to. Now, get up. First, coffee and breakfast. Then, piano practice. Then, if you are very, very good, sex.”
“You get to have sex too, you know,” I grumble. “You don’t have to act like it’s some kind of special treat for me.”
His lips twitch. “It’s taking all my self-control to keep my focus on your audition, Allie,” he confesses. “Now, before I change my mind, and do something we will both enjoy in the present, but will regret in the future, let’s get to work.”
***
I put everything into my piano recital. Everything.
Some of it is because of the promised sex, but it really is becoming easier to unlock the emotion safely. Here, in his home, in the last few days, I’ve felt embarrassed and aroused by Nikolai’s treatment, but I’ve also felt secure and cherished. It seems that I need to feel that. I need to know that I’m not alone, and that there is someone out there who cares for me.
When my mother died, I was left alone, a lonely eighteen year old with no other family, and no one to care whether she succeeded or failed. This week, Nikolai has shown me that he cares. Sure, his methods are completely insane. But he’s shown me that he expects only my best, and I want to live up to that promise.