Page 31 of Interview with a Sadist
“Shit. I’m going to fucking come inside you.” I bellowed, and like a fucking goddess, Little One managed to throw it back, stroking my cock with her pussy as I unloaded my entire soul into her. Now I was the one screaming like I was being tortured, and when I finished, both of us collapsed onto the floor.
Surely, there was sweat, cum, and blood soaking into the couch and hardwood, but I didn't care an ounce. There wasn’t a single bone in my body or hair on my head that would've changed what we’d done, even though I knew Little One would be in pain for days after.
I was glad, actually. It was good that she’d be sore. It was perfect that she wouldn't be able to sit down without flinching. Now, she wouldn't forget who she belonged to. No matter what would end up happening to us, she wouldn't forget me for as long as she fucking lived.
ChapterNineteen
The sound of blood rushing in my ears is so loud I can’t hear anything else. Luckily, Nolan isn’t speaking anymore anyway, his story having come to a seductive end that has me sitting on pins and needles. My heart races, my thoughts scatter, and any semblance of control I had when I woke up this morning has disintegrated into nothingness. All hope is lost, and I feel nothing more than desire. Desire to learn. Desire to explore. Desire to know what pain feels like.
The sound of my labored breathing fills the space between us as our eyes meet. Nolan smirks as he watches me, and I’m sure I see entertainment dancing in his eyes. He’s so fucking unreadable it terrifies me.
I clear my throat, hoping it will force me back into the middle of my lane, but it’s no use. I’m still veering off the road, and Nolan will be who I crash into.
“Is that a true story?” I ask, leaning forward and turning off the recorder on the table. “Or, are you just messing with me?”
“Messing with you? Why would I do that?” Nolan questions, somehow managing to sound playful and serious at the same time.
“You know why,” I blurt out, shocking myself. My stomach churns from the internal battle raging within me, making me feel sick. It’s like watching a movie where the side I’m rooting for is slowly being killed, and I know they won’t make it to the end. The wound is too deep. The damage has been done, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s all over.
“I really don’t,” Nolan says with raised eyebrows and a shrug. “But I do know you seem flustered. Are you okay, Miss Barrett?”
“I told you not to call me that,” I fire back.
My skin sparks with pinpricks. I sit up in my seat and start to move around nervously, fidgeting like an anxious child and fumbling my hands around, reaching for support that isn’t there. Every time I look at Nolan’s face, I lose more and more of myself. I want and need more of him. I need to know what it’s like. I’m being changed from within and I can’t stop it. I wasn’t raised to feel desire like this, and I’ve been taught to hate myself for letting it win, but I don’t hate anything right now. How can I hate something that consumes me in the best way imaginable?
“Bree,” Nolan calls to me, but his voice sounds distant. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“No,” I snap. “You know what the fuck you’re doing.”
Nolan’s eyes double in size. “Wow. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“What? You didn’t know I hadwhatin me?”
Now he smirks as he looks me up and down. “Fire.”
His words are gasoline to the fire he speaks of. He pours it on and forces me into an uncontrollable blaze.
“Goddamn it. I don’t get it. I don’t understand this,” I bark, standing up. I begin to pace around the room with my hands on my hips, furious that I can’t douse the heat he has worked me into. Nolan, on the other hand, stays seated.
“You don’t understandwhat?” he asks calmly, which only makes me want it more.
“What is wrong with you?” I bellow. I feel myself trip and fall over the edge of my sanity, and I’m plummeting now. There’s no climbing back up.
“Me?” Nolan says. “With all due respect, Miss Barrett, I’m not the one pacing around the office with flushed skin.”
“My name is Bree, and I don’t understand how you can sit there all calm and collected after telling me a story that …botheredme so much. It’s not possible to be the apotheosis of control, and also flog a woman so much and so hard that she bleeds. You can’t sit here looking like that and also get off on someone’s blood being smeared across your fingers. You can’t. You justcan’t! I don’t get how any of what you just said could possibly feel good to anyone. She came? Are you fucking kidding me? What is this—spicy romance written by a man? This woman was just so turned on by your ridiculous good looks and rock-hard man-pecks that she had a fucking orgasm from you beating her? No way. I don’t buy it, and I’m not going to publish it. I … you … stop smiling!”
At some point during my ranting, Nolan has turned his body toward me and is smiling in amusement. Is he doing this on purpose to get a rise out of me? There are too many unanswered questions, and I can’t fucking stand it.
He makes me feel like I’m somebody else. I’m a stranger to myself when I’m in this man’s presence, but there’s a strange part of me that likes all of the new things he makes me feel. I’m excited, flustered, nervous, and so completely turned on by him. When I leave, it all goes away, only to return the second we’re face to face again. Nolan thrills me. He makes me feel alive, but the person I’ve always been can’t survive this.
With every passing second, the woman I used to be before I met Nolan sinks further beneath the waves. If I let her go completely, she’ll never come back from the dark abyss, and that scares me because she is all I’ve ever known. But I can’t help what Nolan has shown me. He helped to open my eyes, and now I don’t want to close them. I want to see more, and if that means the old me must drown, then so be it.
I stand in the middle of the large office with my head down, looking at my feet so I don’t have to see Nolan’s unfair, beautiful face. I try to corral my thoughts and focus, needing to feel like I’m standing on solid ground instead of the quicksand I’ve been trying to escape all this time. I think about Melissa and Teagan. I think about my upbringing. I even think about Chase and Octavia. My daily life consists of being pulled in different directions all the time, and trying to please all sides. It’s no wonder I’ve been confused and stressed for so long. This isn’t living life for myself. I’ve been living it for them, and I want it to stop. Ineedit to stop for my own good. So, instead of searching for solid ground, I stop pacing and let the quicksand pull me under.
“Show me,” I say. The room becomes so silent that I’m sure Nolan is holding his breath, but I continue. “Show me how it’s possible for pain to become pleasure. Show me how you could make a woman come while you hurt her. Show me how you degrade someone by walking them around on a leash, and still manage to make them love you so much that they’d allow you to flay their backside. Show me what this world is, Nolan.
“I don’t mean to be so forward, and I apologize for being unprofessional. I was supposed to be here for the story, but you’ve opened my eyes and mind in a way I never knew anyone ever could, and I can’t go back—back to sitting at a table with my friends from college making fun of anything different from our personal experiences—back to being fearful of anything new. I won’t go back, so show me, Nolan. Please.”
