Page 134 of The Failed Audition

I moan.

He stares at me with a smile in his eyes.

This is more. Than what I thought would happen. Right now. I can’t even quantify how much time has passed. All I know isthat he’s harder and I’m wetter. He flips me over, lifting me on my knees and hands. This is not going to go well.

“Nik,” I warn him, my heart thrashing. This is the worst position for us. He climbs onto the bed, kneeling behind me. He’s too tall. I’m too short, and our pelvises donotline up.

“Stay still,” he says.

Well no way am I going to move. He grasps my hips, lifting me higher so that I meet his cock, but now my knees are no longer on the bed. He slips in from behind. My arms quake, my fingers just barely touching the mattress.

I have very little support, but he has no trouble bracing my body weight. He leans forward, pushing even deeper, just to kiss the back of my neck. I shut my eyes and drift in the pulsing pleasure.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, he’s successfully fucked his emotions out. And I’m too exhausted to move or even consider a shower.

He holds me to his chest, brushing his fingers through my hair. I listen to his heartbeat slow, and I mentally try to reroute my brain to him, to his day. I hate when I’m so consumed by my own that I forget to ask. And I just hope that whatever went down, it’s not catastrophically bad.

It still feels likes he’s inside of me, even though he’s not. I cross my legs some, and then I ask, “What happened today?”

He exhales deeply and stares down at me.

I look up.

“Why do you think something happened?”

I’m not crazy. Am I? I didn’t make this up. “You’re just…more aggressive than usual.”

His brows furrow and his eyes flit down my naked body. “I didn’t hurt you…”

“No,” I say. “I mean, no more than usual.”

He glares. “I don’t enjoy hurting you when I sleep with you, just so you know.”

“It’s better than before,” I assure him.

He nods, relaxing a bit. “You’re right.”

“About…?”

He sighs heavily, another deep breath. “About something happening today.” He licks his lips and stares off for a second. When his eyes meet mine, they’re full of power, of what he always possesses, the unwavering contact. “I don’t know how to say it.”

My nerves escalate, and I sit up, not much. I just place an arm on his chest while he lies on his back. So that I’m the one staring down at him. So that he’s looking up at me. “Let me guess.”

His lips tic upwards. “Okay, myshka.”

I read his body language. He’s content now. Of course. But before, he was stressed. He’s been at work all day, so… “It has to do with Amour.”

He nods.

I take in the time. It’s almost at that five-month mark. Which means— “Elena,” I suddenly say. “It has to do with your partner.”

Surprise coats his face. I guessed right. “I’ve taught you well,” he murmurs.

He can’t dodge this. “What happened?” Elena is supposed to be in her first show next week, the aerial silk act returning to Amour.

His fingers skim the bareness of my shoulder blades. “She was fired.”

My face falls. “What?”

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