"I-I get it," I pant through the ache.
"Then tell me how talented you are. That you won't let the gaze of others, the memory of what’s happened to you, stop you from showing everyone how exceptional you are."
"But— Ow!" I hiss when the pain comes back.
"If you can't control your own mind," he says in a low voice, "I will train you to letmecontrol it. And you're going to feel it, believe me on that."
He hits me again. The wood of the instrument is unforgiving. A conductor's baton is too short for there to be any give. It's hard, it hurts, and through the pain, his words are starting to make sense.
"S-Stop," I choke. "It hurts."
"Why did I give you that violin, Nyx?" he asks harshly.
He's standing next to me rather than behind me so he can have the best angle, and when I look to the side, all I see is his crotch and how hard he is under his pants. In turn, it makes my core melt, wetting my underwear.
"Why?" he repeats with another hit.
"I don't know!" I shriek through the pain.
"Because you deserved it. Say it."
"B-Because I deserved it."
"Why did you deserve it, pretty girl?"
I inhale a trembling breath, knowing what he wants from me.
"Because I'm talented, and I…and I deserve the same chance as everyone else."
"There you go," he says softly, and the reward finally comes.
His free hand slides into my hair with a sensuality that makes me want to purr for him.
"Tell me who’s going to be the next soloist?" he asks as the baton drops to the floor.
"I am," I whisper.
"Yes, baby. You are."
His hand caresses the back of my head, my neck, and my spine. All the way to my lower back as I hear him undo his belt with his other hand.
He hums approvingly as he smooths a hand over my ass.
"I ruined your tights. You won't mind if I finish the job, will you?" Within a split second, they're ripped off my waist, the material hanging by a thread between my thighs.
"God, Nyx," he groans as his palm presses against my damp underwear, my body lighting on fire even as I shiver. "If you weren't so perfect for me, I would’ve left you alone a long time ago."
Moving his hand to the waistband, he lowers my panties, forcing my breathing to accelerate as he does so.
"You’re the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
He says that with a fatality that should make me worry for my sanity, but all it does is drive my need for him further. I know he notices the moment I push back against the air because the movement makes him chuckle.
"Beautiful, but so impatient."
He shifts behind me, and I hear the foil wrapper of a condom before I feel his tip at my entrance, and a moan is already forming, halfway up my throat when he stops.
"Achilles," I whimper.
