Author's Note: This follows my previous fic Unbroken. You will get the best reading experience if you read Unbroken first.
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Spanking
xxxxx
Olivia
There's things that I know I should be aware in this moment - the water running to an almost scalding temperature over my hands for one; fatigue and exhaustion riddling me after a 16 hour work day for another... but I can only concentrate on the miniscule - my heart racing shallowly in my chest, my palm stinging from flesh to flesh contact, my body yearning at it's very center.
I'm standing in my master bathroom, trying to find some kind of control, even the barest thread of it to hold onto before I open the door to my bedroom again. My escape to these cold, four walls had been nothing short of desperate, and now that I'm here, I'm not sure how I will carefully erect the fallen walls of my fortress again.
The sound of the water running is finally too much against my ears and I twist it off forcefully.
In my peripheral I can see myself, head bent, but I wouldn't dare to stare myself down in this instant.
Just last night I wondered at exactly the way I could wean her off of her dependency on me. I was thinking of ending this before it truly began...but then she knocked on my door, eyes wide and watery, her expression pleading.
I crumbled.
Every single logical thought had left my brain, replaced by an errant desire that won't stop pounding through my body. I let her in, and now she's burrowing down into every fiber of my being, wrapping herself through the passageways to my heart. She's plowing down every technique I've taught myself in order not to feel too much for one single person...
Lifting my hands, I gaze down at my open palms, one flushed and pink still. I squeeze it closed, flex my fingers against the tingle that permeates layers of skin and bone, bleeding hot passion into my blood.
I press my eyes shut against a shudder.
I can still remember the sound of my hand striking her, breaking her slowly - exactly as she desires. I can almost feel her lunging against me, murmuring soft cries as she unwinds in my embrace. She shivers when it's over, seeking my embrace like a lost child...Then when her tears have dried, she nuzzles into me, her fingers seeking beneath my clothing to clasp bare flesh as if boundaries don't even exist.
She's breaking me slowly, just as precisely and painfully as I have broken her. She's bruised across her pale flesh, but my heart bears all the strain of an internalized conflict I don't know if I can resolve on my own.
Lowering my hands to the bathroom counter, I press my palms against the cool surface, although I know not even an ice bath over my entire body could chill this raging heat within.
I'm searching for control because I know when I open this door that my utter lack of composure must disappear. She's there, on my bed, wrapped in my sheets, waiting for me to comfort her.
I haven't prayed in nearly twenty years, but perhaps some devotion to a pure entity would divide this sickness from my bones. If only I could find my moral compass again, I'd have the direction to deny myself the soft curves of her body, the sweetness of her lips... the hot alcove between her legs. I've watched her become flushed and engorged with arousal as she's laid across my lap, even as she's cried with the force of my hand against her flesh, and those are the images that won't allow my mind to rest.
I want more. It's almost as if I need it.
A quiet moan escapes my mouth and I tear my hands from the counter in order to muffle the sound. My flesh is slightly cooled from the bathroom counter and I can feel how flushed my face is without even looking at the mirror. I don't need my own reflection to tell me that I've been completely compromised.
There will be no going back from this. This is the reality that I have birthed into existence, one I might not even escape should I be presented the chance and yet one I can hardly live with.
"Olivia?"
I gasp into my hands at the sound of her voice, small and inquiring through the door. I've been been gone too long and she needs me. Deep within my heart, I can feel myself becoming just as attached.
It's been mere weeks since the first time, but every day in between that has passed has written my desire for her submission so deeply into bones that it can't be erased. If I scrub down to the very marrow I won't have even scraped the surface of this longing. This is my fate, etched into the unyielding stone of my own existence.
"Olivia?" She calls again, the notes of her voice luring me from my self pity.
Pulling my hands from my face, I return, "Stay in bed, sweetie, I'll be right there."
I can only hope that the quiver in my voice is indiscernible through the barrier of the door and space between us.
I finally glance up at the mirror to ensure that my expression is smoothed over, that only the nuances of my feelings that I want to show her are lying within my eyes.
She can't know that I desire more than I can ever have because if she does, I know she'll fall to her knees at my command just as quickly as she falls to her own desires. I have seen the way she looks at me when she's in my arms, felt her grasping me tight as if I am the only thing anchoring her. It terrifies me when she murmurs, "I'd float away into nothing without you." Her soul is embedded into the palm of my hand, and, god, I want more than anything to close my fingers about her, to claim her as my own.
I'm shuddering deep inside, my throat swollen tight with emotion, and meeting my own gaze becomes increasingly hard. I can see the twist of my brows, denoting the war raging just behind the darkness of my widened eyes. My lips are taut against a tremble. I can't show this to her.
Lowering my head once more, I rub my hands over my face, breathe out. With every ounce of my willpower, I shove my feelings down inside of myself, as far away from the oracle of my face as possible. I listen to myself breathe until until the tone of my inhales smoothes over, and the lengths of my exhales stretch into calmness.
When I finally deem myself ready, I don't spare another glance towards the tortured women in the mirror. I turn and grab the doorknob, branding confidence into my stance. Twisting the knob, I swing the door open and gaze out into the bedroom. My heart races shallowly, a dull pulse low in my groin as I find her in the darkness, but with some effort I find the measured calm between each labored throb.
Her pale flesh is a beacon to my eyes and every inch of her from the waist down is naked to my eyes. She's laid across the bed on her stomach, her arms cradling her face in my direction.
"I thought you weren't coming back." She murmurs, her blue eyes glittering from beneath mussed strands of blonde hair. "I was worried I did something wrong."
"No…" I return, softly, shaking my head. "You did nothing wrong."
She licks her lips in a nervous motion when I don't move from my place in the bathroom doorway.
"I'm sorry…" She whispers in halting tone, her brow furrowing. "I know I was just here...I just…"
"Amanda." I cut her off, shaking my head once more. "You don't need to apologize."
"B-but.." She begins, stammering.
Pushing away from the doorway, I cross the room to her, and slide onto the mattress next to her.
The last thing I want is for her to become hysterical again, although the tears swimming in her eyes serve to dampen the arousal swirling in my stomach and I'm thankful for at least that.
"Relax." I murmur, sliding my hand over her back and rubbing slowly. "You're safe here."
She nods, her lids fluttering shut as she heaves a breath. Her face smooths out, like a placid pond only disturbed by a few ripples and I gaze upon her solace. She's so soft and tender like this. There's hardly a sign of the barbed wire fence of defensiveness and cynicism that I have known her to erect so often about her heart. At one point in time I had feared to touch her, terrified of leaving with blood on my hands, but when she exposes this part of herself to me, my thoughts of self preservation are so far from me that they nearly cease to exist. When she's here with me I ache deeply with the singular desire for her, wholly and completely.
"Will you lay down with me?" She asks, her voice a sleepy mumble.
"Of course." I whisper, barely concealing the choked tone of my voice as I slide my hand from her back to her cheek.
I smooth back the stray hairs from her temple and behind the curve of her ear, my fingers skimming her flesh. Even the slightest touch sears pleasure into my nerve endings and I barely hide the way my breath catches in my throat. Ducking my head, I swallow against the yearning saliva that has gathered on my tongue. The sweetness of desire lingers across my taste buds, but I manage to hold it back behind my teeth as I shift against her.
Reclining onto the bed is a relief, though the new sense of relaxation allows my mind to concentrate more wholeheartedly on the things that come easily...Things like the warmth of her body, the innocent nudity of her lower body, her eyes searching for mine with an adoration I feel ashamed to receive.
I can hardly look at her as our bodies align, face to face. I remember seeing her distraught expression the very first night she confessed her desires to me and I wonder now if she can see the same ravenous need inside my eyes now. My thoughts of her are ever close, right on the verge of breaking surface, and I feel as if she must know. What intuitive instinct lies inside her must have led her to the conclusion of my averted gazes, my tightly clenched fists, the pounding of my heart.
"Olivia…?" She murmurs, hesitantly, and I feel her touch me, gentle fingers against my neck and jaw.
I look up at her as my body shivers at the contact. I don't know what to say or how to say it. I don't know how to stop the tiny explosions of desire that ignite across my body at her mere presence.
"Is something wrong?" She whispers.
Yes! My mind screams at me. Everything is wrong!
I purse my lips against the words, silently enduring the intensity of her gaze upon my guiltily burning being for several more seconds before her fingers dip determinedly beneath my chin. Our gazes meet, and I feel the force of her blue eyes sucking me in like an open sky I'd give anything to throw myself into.
"I…." I begin, my voice a low rasp before I clear it. "Everything's fine."
Her brows furrow slightly. She doesn't believe me, and why should she?
"Liv…" She breathes once more, pushing in closer to me.
Our noses nearly brush, and I draw a breath at her proximity. My hands nearly shake with the urge to grab her and pin her down to the mattress. I'd drag her arms above her head and ravish her mouth with all the desire that I've been holding back…. God knows I would've already done it had I thought it would end there. We've kissed before, both of us reckless in the heat of the moment, but it's never stood alone from the emotional bond we share when she lays across my knees. It's never been about me. I'd give all the world and more to care for her without a second thought to myself, but now she has me here, after the fact. The embers should be cooling, the blaze a gentle memory…but still I burn.
I reach up to grab her wrist, to take away the temptation of her flesh on mine but her fingers drag tight, short nails biting into my jaw and curling into my hair. I suck in a breath through clenched teeth as her body presses to mine, emitting a warmth that I want desperately to sink into.
"Don't lie." She whispers, and I can hear the strain even in her softest tone.
I drag my face away, pressing my forehead to her chin. I can hear my heart rushing in my chest, crashing waves of heat continuously over my body. I'm throbbing even harder down below in the core of myself.
"What are you thinking?" She whispers, a tremble barely evident in her voice.
I squeeze down on her wrist, clenching my teeth against the urge to spill my desires upon her waiting ears.
Perhaps it would seem strange to anyone else that I imagine I have not already crossed a line with Amanda, but since that first night, I've realized there are many lines. The layers of our needs and desires for each other have split and multiplied, and when I stand a crossroads now, I see not only two paths, but dozens. With her pressed up against me, her hands touching me, it's clear which one calls to me.
Her fingers work beneath my taut chin once more, attempting to drag my eyes to hers. I resist at first, desperate to hide the stain of overwrought tears glazing my eyes, but she's insistent. Finally, I haltingly allow her to draw my face upwards. Her fingers grip my face, implying dominance for the first time since we've begun our confusing relationship. I let it happen. A part of me wants her to wring this truth from lips, whether through kindness or through brute strength. The guilt of my desires weighs upon me like a rock I wish I could heave from my chest.
"Just tell me." She whispers, her voice quavering.
My throat tightens further as I recognize the hints of fear dancing through her eyes. Her first thought is that I will leave her when it's, in fact, the opposite.
"There's things, Amanda…" I whisper, my tone emitting low and gravelly. "Things my body and mind want…"
Her brows furrow slowly, and in the darkness, I can barely make out the motion of a hard swallow at her neck. Her fingers tighten against my jaw, and she's suddenly rigid against me, a stark comparison to her previous demeanor. The implications of my cryptic words and trembling tone are dawning upon her in the slow ascent of realization, and it terrifies me to see the understanding winding through her cerulean gaze.
"What are you talking about?" She returns, huskily, despite the light that has awakened inside her eyes. She's expected a different outcome, something much more than the failure that I struggle to admit.
"I think you know…" I manage to say above the emotion gripping my throat.
Her lips tighten, and she purses them slowly. I can almost feel the tremble in her fingers.
"I think it's what we both want." I finish, clenching my fingers around her wrist once more.
How desperate I must be to push the blame onto both of our shoulders when she's only ever come to me with pure intentions. What guilt must consume me to involve her in the desanctification of our union.
"Olivia…" She begins in a husky murmur, but I pull away, striving not to be so rough as to harm her, yet overwhelmed with the desire to escape.
I sit up from the bed and turn away from her, gripping the edge of the mattress. I can feel my heart racing in my ears while my stomach turns over again and again. I do not fear her rejection, but rather her acceptance of my unfettered fantasies.
She's quiet, and my throat knots at the thought of hurting her with my rash behavior. I lower my head, and my hair slips across my heated cheeks and forehead in a gracious curtain.
"Liv." Amanda repeats, sitting up behind me.
It's strange to hear her strong, demanding tone in this setting when she usually leaves it outside the door in exchange for desperate cries and impassioned whispers, however, her unyielding inflection is nothing less than I deserve.
I feel her touch my back, and I grimace against the urge to collapse at the simple contact. I draw a breath as her arm slips around my waist, dragging me close to her. She winds her other arm around my chest, locking me into an embrace that I don't have the strength or will to struggle away from.
"Tell me." She utters in my ear, her breath warming my flesh in a wash of tingles.
Her command weakens me in even the strongest part of my bones, but I shake my head slowly, biting at my lip. She doesn't understand. I have gone to such lengths to be her protector, and now I would compromise it with selfish desires such as these?
"Olivia…" She murmurs, her tone barely ending in a moan of frustration as her arms tighten about me.
I feel her forehead press to my neck, then a moment later, her lips. I shudder at the warmth and softness imparted upon my ravenous being, a sweet caress which only feeds the beast inside me.
"Don't." I choke out, turning my head away.
Her arms clinch about me once more, holding me back for every move that I would make away from her. She kisses me again, her lips parting slowly, achingly against my perspiring neck. I groan aloud, my body rigid and shivering against her.
"Amanda, please, stop." I insist, my tone garbled with all the tell tale signs of desire.
I don't want her to stop; no, not at all.
Her fingers curl against my stomach, tugging at the material of my shirt. I shudder helplessly as she drags the hem away from my hips, baring my stomach to her fingers. The touch of her hand is like fire to my over sensitized body, and I nearly wrench away from her with a cry.
"I said don't lie." She murmurs in my ear, and I can't tell whether she's angry, sad, or aroused. I'm not sure which would matter more in this moment.
"Amanda…" I pant, swallowing against tears that sting my eyes.
"Tell me." She repeats again as her hand slips beneath my shirt, dragging upwards until she's cupping my breast.
Her hand is warm, searing me with molten heat. My body sings with desire, rising to the tune of her hands dancing across my skin. My nipple is rigid and taut in a matter of seconds, prodding at her palm in a wordless plea.
Amanda breathes heavily in my ear, her fingers squeezing down slowly on my breast.
"Jesus, Olivia…" She rasps, sounding utterly shocked at the vivacious response of my body.
"God, please…" I whisper, attempting to pull away once more. "Just please...let me go."
She seems to hesitate before finally, her hands slip away. I push up from the bed as soon as I'm free, though my legs are weakened from her touch. I wobble away, spreading my hands over my face as I attempt to breathe. I can feel the tremble in my fingers and my skin still burns from her gentle fondling. If I thought I ached before, the insistent pounding of my groin is nothing compared to the clench and shiver of my body now.
"I thought you wouldn't want this." Amanda's voice shatters the panicked loop of thoughts circling my brain, ending the violent flurry in one simple sentence.
I freeze in the middle of the room, my heart stilling for half a second before taking off again. My hands slip weakly from my face though I don't turn to look at her.
"What….?" I whisper, hoping against hope that she means something else; that she's misconstrued my scattered signals.
"I thought we'd both be satisfied…." She continues.
The bed creaks and I sense her approaching me. I clench my fingers into fists at my sides, steeling myself against the power of her touch once more.
"You've done so much for me." She whispers as she nears me. "You've given me your everything. You've taken care of me…"
Her fingers touch my back, skimming lightly between my shoulder blades and down my spine, awakening a path of goosebumps there.
"I would do whatever you wanted...whatever you ask of me…" She says softly, so reverently that my knees quake.
"I can't…" I return, arching away from the seducing trail of her fingertips.
I can't think of accepting her devotion in this way. I can't tarnish the purity of this relationship that I have worked so hard to cherish with unadulterated love and care. She should remain as she has been to me in the previous weeks - a sweet, but lost child in need of direction and protection. I cannot fall to these lows of manipulation, spurred on by such a base, wretched lust.
"Olivia…" Amanda says, touching my arm gently. "I could never be worthy of you, but I could try…"
"Stop." I order, holding up both my hands as I spin towards her. "You...you are more than worthy."
She halts, her lips parted. Her lids flutter quickly as if she is shocked by my exclamation. It devastates me to imagine that she thinks so little of herself, and I wish I could make her understand.
"That's the problem." I finish in a whisper, grabbing her upper arms, if only to hold myself back from her. "I couldn't possibly put myself in a position to hurt you or demean you…"
"B-but…" She stutters, her brows furrowing. "I'd do anything…"
"I know." I moan, softly, lowering my eyes from her pleading expression. "Amanda….please forgive me…"
"I don't want to." She replies, her voice rising. "I want to give you what you want."
She pulls away from me, detaching her arms from my grip in one rough yank. She turns towards the bed and folds down onto the sheets, collapsing into a distraught puddle, facedown. Her head is turned away from me, but she clutches the pillow against her head, visibly upset by my refusal.
I watch her, cycling through various emotions that range from helpless, to sad, to frustrated. I know her well, and I cannot allow her tactic of manipulating my actions through my desire to see her happy move me.
"There's some things in this life that we can't have no matter how much we want them, Amanda." I finally say, stepping closer to the bed. "This is one of them."
"Is doesn't have to be." She returns, spitefully, into the pillow.
"It's much more complicated than what we have now." I murmur, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Why?" She asks, sharply, her tone threatening tears.
"Because…" I whisper, reaching out to touch her back. "I wouldn't force you to do anything, or make any type of quid pro quo arrangement. I'm here because I want to be. You don't owe me anything."
She's quiet for a long moment, though I know her mind is turning. The longer she silently lies there, the higher my anxiety rises. Amanda is stubborn and willful and I doubt that my simple denial will dampen her determination.
Finally, she pushes up from the bed and spins towards me. I'm ready to defend my words, but instead she flings herself upon me, clambering onto my lap before I can stop her. Her fingers twist into my hair, wrenching a gasp from my lips as the warmth of her body engulfs me.
"Amanda -" I begin to protest, but her mouth is coming down on mine, swallowing what cries I offer.
I grab at her arms and waist in an attempt to stop her, but she rocks against me, weakening my limbs, momentarily. Her fingers are harsh in my hair, holding my face to hers in an unmoving grip. She sucks at my lower lip, priming mouth open with desirous strokes of her tongue. The sweetness of her saliva blooms across my taste buds with heady rushes, leaving my mind spinning. The heat coiling in my groin expands sharply, ready to implode at the smallest coax.
Having her against me is a torture I can hardly stand, and now with her kiss fresh upon my mouth, I want to scream. The bare threads of my self control groan beneath the weight of her kisses and half naked body, and when she presses her tongue deep between my teeth, I can feel the very moment when they all snap at once.
With a low growl, I grab her and spin her towards the mattress. I thrust us down across the rumpled sheets, pinning her beneath me. She gasps against my mouth, her fingers weakening in my hair. In her moment of shock, I slide my hands up her arms and drag them down against the mattress, shackling her hands above her head in the iron grip of my wrists.
Finally I pull back, hovering above her on a tenuous tightrope of resistance. She stares back at me, her breath blasting from between her teeth in heavy pants. Her chest is heaving tautly with them, but her legs are bent and spread across my thighs in a lax display of submission. I hardly allow myself to gaze downwards, though it takes everything within me not to sink down between her creamy thighs and take her dripping pussy in my mouth.
"Stop." I whisper, viciously, giving her arms a shake.
"Why?" She hisses, undulating her hips slowly against me.
I close my eyes, clenching my jaw tightly. Behind the blackened veil of my lids, my deepest desires taunt me, flashing images of what could be across my wanton gaze. I clench my fingers tighter around her wrists, grasping at what little self control I have left.
Finally, I pull back, releasing her wrists. I sit back on my heels, watching her rigidly. She hardly moves, returning my gaze with the plush pout of her reddened lips. Nearly a minute passes, though I still feel as if I can't move.
At last, she drags one arm from above her head, and I watch with growing dread as she slips her hand down her stomach to her the soft, blonde mound at her crotch. Her fingers stretch across her flushed lips before dipping in. Her moan shatters my immobility and I grab her hand, pulling her fingers sharply from herself.
"Stop." I rasp once more, holding her moistened fingers aloft.
Her gaze hardly wavers from mine as she moves her other hand, determined to push every limit I have so clearly outlined. I don't let her hand reach her groin this time, catching her wrist halfway down. Holding both of her arms, I yank her up into a sitting position, bringing us face to face.
"Don't make me tell you again." I whisper, sharply.
"Or what?" She demands, her arctic, blue eyes searing me from beneath shocks of blonde bangs.
Before I can reply, she lunges in, roughly aligning our lips in an attempt to kiss me once more. I don't dwell on the warmth of her mouth as I push her back, knocking her onto her back once more. I pin her arms to the mattress and drag my leg over her thigh, effectively holding her down.
"If you can't listen to me, you'll give me no choice." I say in a hushed tone.
Our faces are bare centimeters apart and I can see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. I can't let it sway me.
"What do you mean?" She whispers.
"I will end this." I vow, though my voice quavers. "Completely."
Her brows tighten, and I can see the tears swell quickly in her eyes in one single rush of emotion. It pains me greatly to consider retracting my part in this relationship and to know that she will suffer because of it; but I would rather see her suffer than to exploit her.
"There has to be boundaries, Amanda." I insist, but she's already looking away from me.
A tear slips down the curve of her nose and I can see her lips quivering, but she's finally stopped fighting. Her limbs are limp beneath me, but I don't trust her enough to let her go quite yet.
"Look at me." I whisper.
Her jaw clenches, and she stares steadily off towards the wall, refusing to meet my command. I release one wrist in order to grab her face.
The time for her to take my confession is over. I can bear my own penance in silence, and she must accept that her part in this relationship is one of submission. She's trusted me to make the right decision for both of us, and no amount of crying or kicking and screaming will change what I've decided now.
"I don't want to hurt you, Amanda." I say firmly as I bring her gaze to mine. "But I cannot accept this."
She stares back at me, eyes watery and red, jaw jutting and quivering. I'd hold her if she cries, but I can't release her until she accepts what I'm saying.
"Do you understand me, sweetie?" I ask, hoping that she will soften beneath the tender endearment, but when she pulls her jaw from my touch, I know I won't get the answer I want.
When she speaks, her voice is rough, "I understand….But I don't accept it."
And looking back into her pained, aching gaze I think that maybe she speaks for the yearning of both of our hearts, minds, and souls. I don't blame her. If I blame anyone, it's myself.
"I'm going to fix this." I murmur, reaching out to softly touch her cheek. "I promise…"
