Blind Obsession

  “Stop what?” he questions in a voice I’m starting to dream about.

  “Stop trying to intimidate me. I want to know you,” I tell him, taking that final step to him. It’s a shock to me when he takes a retreating one back.

  “You don’t know what you want, Gemma,” he informs me darkly, those mysterious eyes narrowing.

  “I seemed to know what I wanted last night. Wouldn’t you say?”

  He shakes his head in disagreement as I move again, taking one step forward to his step back.

  “You didn’t know what you wanted last night.”

  “Didn’t I?” I query, starting to get annoyed. I need him to open up to me. I want him to trust me, and the only way I can see that happening is for me to trust him.

  “I knew exactly what I wanted last night. I wanted you,” I explain. I watch his mouth pull into a grimace, but I’m not finished yet. “And I wanted her. I still want her.”

  As my words penetrate his mind, he looks me over before allowing those hot eyes to come back and land on my face.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying right now. Would you listen to yourself?”

  Straightening my shoulders, I lift my chin. “How about you listen to me? I know exactly what I just said, and I know exactly what I’m feeling. I’ll admit that I don’t have the first idea why or how it is that I want her, but I do, just as much as I want you.”

  Finally, he stops moving backward and takes a step toward me. He reaches out to grip my shoulders tightly. “Do you hear what you’re telling me?”

  I lick my lips as his voice skates along my spine, touching every nerve. I shiver with anticipation.

  “Yes,” I reply on a breathy sigh. “I’m sick and tired of hiding it from you. You know what I’m reading, you know what you’re telling me, and I’m placing my trust in you. I’m giving my body to you.” Swallowing deeply, I try to regain my slipping composure. “I don’t know what it is you see, and I don’t know what you’re feeling, but when you bring her between us, something happens inside of me.”

  I watch almost in slow motion as he reaches out a hand and fingers my hard, tight nipple.

  “See? I’m not lying, Phillipe. You and Chantel have done something to me.” I shiver as I confess, “And I want you to do it over and over.”

  ***

  As Phillipe stands there, listening to the words that are tumbling from Gemma’s mouth, he’s trying to tell himself that this is not a good idea. Not only is she going to be there temporarily, she is also a journalist, a reporter who is writing a story on him.

  None of this can end well. She wants him to touch her, to break her down, and to crawl inside of her. She wants Chantel.

  He knows she has been struggling to understand her feelings when it comes to the paintings, as well as her reactions to him, but to stand in front of him…to confess her perversion? Well, he knows there’s no way he can walk away from that. If anything, it makes him want to slide deeper inside of her to indulge in her debauchery.

  “Honesty,” he commands gruffly, removing his hand from her nipple to touch her chin.

  She doesn’t flinch. In fact, she doesn’t even blink.

  “If we go where you want to go, Gemma, if we get deep inside this head of yours, you have to give me honesty.”

  Her eyes dilate, and her lips part.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispers, breathing slowly.

  “You need to tell me what you’re thinking—all the time.”

  She nods as Phillipe moves his free hand to her waist. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her forward. “And if you want to scream her name out when my cock is fucking you, you scream it, right into my ear.”

  ***

  I can feel the inner muscles of my soaked pussy spasm and clench at his dark suggestion. How is it that with just a few simple suggestive words this man has reduced me to a quivering pile of flesh and bones?

  “Can you be that honest, Gemma? Can you let yourself go and be that raw?”

  Quickly, I agree, afraid he’s going to change his mind—or that I will.

  “We will see,” he muses, letting me go. “Acquiesce seems to be a perfect fit for you today, but it’s too cold outside. So, let’s go down to the music room. You can pose there.”

  He turns on his heel and walks away from me. I tell myself to move, to follow him, but for the moment, I’m stuck where I’m standing, wondering what I just agreed to.

  ***

  As I finally make my way out of the studio, I head downstairs.

  Passing by the painting of Rhapsody, or at least a print of it, I’m reminded of the first time I saw it only weeks earlier. It still calls out to me, except now, instead of stopping to examine it, I find myself rushing past it to get to her music room where he is waiting for me. As I descend the stone stairs, I realize that I’m no longer frightened of what’s below. I’m anxious and extremely aroused.

  I know what we discussed just moments ago affected him, and I understand his need to digest what I was truly saying to him.

  When I reach the bottom step and turn, I’m greeted by bright lights. My eyes move around the odd room until I see him standing with his back against the wall.

  He’s watching me quietly. “Come in.”

  “Said the spider to the fly?” I ask, stepping forward.

  I see that he’s moved a wooden bench into the center of the room.

  “Acquiesce means to submit or comply silently. Did you know that?” he inquires smoothly.

  “Yes,” I manage to say as I walk closer to him.

  He, too, has moved and is now waiting for me on the other side of the bench.

  Finally, I stop opposite him. “Where are your paints?”

  “Upstairs,” he informs, his hands moving to his belt buckle.

  Licking my lips slowly, I raise my eyes to his again. “Then, how are you going to paint me?”

  I’m trying to focus on his face, but the soft snick and clink of metal is distracting me, so once again, my eyes fall to his waist.

  “I’m not. The whole idea of painting you was to gain your trust. Obviously, I have it since you told me upstairs I can do whatever I want to you.” His low voice stops as my eyes return to his. “Over and over again.”

  I swallow before asking, “Why the bench?”

  “I still want you to feel her, Gemma, to understand her.”

  That’s when he reaches across the space to take a handful of my shirt, pulling me forward. I stumble, my shins lightly hitting the wood, as I’m held in a somewhat awkward pose.

  “Now, I know you trust me. It’s time to see if I can trust you.”

  I feel my eyes widen, wondering just what he has in mind.

  “I’m going to let go of your blouse, and I want you to take one step back, bend over, and place your palms on the bench. Can you do that, Gemma? Can you submit and comply silently?”

  Blinking slowly, I feel my head starting to spin. He’s seducing me. I can feel him slowly sliding over me, searching for a way to slip past my defenses, and this time, I’m aware of it. This time, I want to be seduced.

  As he lets go of my shirt, he straightens, and I do as requested. I step back and bend over. I place my hands on the bench, leaving my ass pointing out.

  I comply, and I do it all silently.

  ***

  Phillipe watches as Gemma takes a step back. Eyes locked with his, she bends at the waist to do as he requested.

  Her blonde hair has been left free today, and it falls like a curtain down both sides of her face, That just wouldn’t do. He wants to see her face. Moving away from her, he notices when she lifts her head to watch him.

  Making his way over to the elaborate sound and recording system, he turns it on and selects the piece he is searching for. Hitting play, he looks back to see Gemma with her neck crooked and her head raised. Her eyes are focused on him.

  “Have you ever heard Lux Aeterna from Requiem for a Dream, Gemma?” he asks, reachi
ng down to undo the top button of his pants.

  ***

  Lux Aeterna ~ Clint Mansell

  Link: http://blindobsessionbook.com/lux-aeterna-clint-mansell/

  My eyes are transfixed on him as the eerie piano begins to play over and over, and there she is. Chantel has entered the room with us.

  The music and violin is filtering in from all around us, and it’s chilling. The intensely desperate melody floats around me, and it’s feeding some dark fucked-up part of my brain. I can see he’s undoing his pants. When he’s walking toward me, I know what he’s about to do.

  I feel my whole body tremble with the startling realization that, as much as I want it, I’m terrified I’m going to end up craving him and the darkness that swirls around him, like the thickening air before a storm.

  The violin starts to pick up tempo as he stops in front of me. He reaches out to brush my hair back from the right side of my face, tightly gripping it behind my head.

  I raise my eyes to his, which are now looking down upon me. “Open your mouth, Gemma.”

  Immediately, my mouth falls open, and the words submit and comply run through my mind. My eyes are now level with his open pants. I watch with complete focus as he pushes them down from his hips, so his thick cock comes into view.

  With his free hand, he strokes himself roughly over and over to the strands and rhythm of the violin as it begins again. I realize he’s placed the music on repeat.

  Swallowing deeply in anticipation, I follow each rough stroke of his fist, and I feel myself becoming increasingly wetter. This is exactly what I have been waiting to see, ever since witnessing it just over a week ago. Raising my eyes to him again, he gives me a smirk that is so knowing in its sensuality that I almost come from that alone.

  “Do you want to suck my cock, Gemma?”

  I close my eyes, listening to the violin and his voice, as his hand grips my hair tighter.

  “Yes,” I reply, opening my mouth to him.

  “Yes?” he asks me again.

  This time, he steps forward to place the head of his cock against my parted lips. I can taste the salty fluid of his desire coating his smooth, bulbous tip.

  I flick my tongue out, tasting him, right before I lean forward, intending to take him inside my mouth.

  The hand in my hair tightens as he tells me, “Not yet. Wait for it. Close your eyes, Gemma.”

  His voice finds its way somehow to my brain, and once again, I submit.

  “Now, listen to her. Listen to the passion in each movement of her bow as she strokes it across the strings.”

  I listen as each note and chord is played with more passion the further into the piece it goes. His hand tugs on my hair, and I open my eyes to look up into his fiery green ones.

  “Now, Gemma, put your lips around me and suck me as eagerly as she once did.”

  Moisture floods my pussy at the thought of her mouth wrapped around the flesh I’m about to suck. Opening my mouth, I gently slide him between my lips against my tongue. His hand tightens in my hair as the music pulsates and pounds through my ears, and his hips flex as his shaft starts to fuck my mouth hard.

  I brace myself with my palms on the bench, but as he tugs my hair, the pain bites into me. I lose balance and shift forward a little, causing his cock to slide all the way to the back of my throat. He grunts and pulls out as I cough a little in reflex, but before I can say anything, my mouth is full again, and the piece has started over.

  He’s slowed his hips down and is sliding his shaft back and forth between my swollen lips. As I raise my eyes to his tortured ones, his hips pick up movement as the music does.

  He imparts darkly, “You’re the complete opposite of her, but you’re so fucking stunning in your own way, just like she was, Gemma. Your lips…your lips are pink though where hers were red.

  I listen as he becomes a victim of his own seduction, and I watch as he closes his eyes on a groan, stilling his body and hips. I mold the lips he’s describing around him and take as much of him as I can inside my hot mouth.

  Both of his hands come up to hold the sides of my head as he starts again, and this time, I’m ready as he pushes into my mouth like he’ll never have another chance.

  Furiously, he tries to find release, but as I have seen once before, he can’t.

  Pulling away from me, he curses loudly over the tragic music and tells me harshly, “Don’t move.”

  My arms are trembling as they continue supporting me, and my legs feel as though they are about to collapse as the piano starts over, Lux Aeterna beginning once again.

  He moves behind me, and his hands slide around the waist of my pants, undoing the buttons and zipper. He tears them apart, pulling my pants along with my panties down my hips. My naked ass and achingly aroused pussy are now on display to him.

  His hands grip my hips, and without so much as a warning, his cock thrusts hard inside of me, pounding into me from behind.

  “This is the sweetest fucking torture.” He groans, sinking into my soaking core.

  I shift my feet to get a sturdier stance, and using my hands for leverage, I push myself back against him.

  “That’s it, Gemma. Fuck me,” he demands, moving against me with one solid thrust after the other.

  I feel a finger tracing the crack of my ass. He dips it down to where his cock is furiously fucking me and swirls it around my juices before bringing it back to trace my rim with his lubed fingertip.

  “Oh god.” I moan as the tip of his finger pushes against my tight rear hole.

  “She liked this, Gemma. She loved when I pushed my finger inside of her here.”

  I feel his finger slip past the tight ring, but there’s no discomfort because my body is wound up from his insistent pounding.

  As he thrusts deep one final time, pushing his finger all the way into me, he tells me darkly, “And she loved it even more when I fucked her here.”

  That’s all it takes for me to scream, and true to what he said earlier, the name that leaves my mouth is hers.

  Chapter Sixteen ~ Fear

  Fear ~

  Today, I discovered that Phillipe was hiding something from me. It was funny how you could be close to someone and not sense something so very obvious.

  Over the last couple of months, I had posed, and Phillipe had painted. When we first had started out, he had told me that he wanted to touch the world and share beauty and emotion with it. Now, he seemed to be keeping the paintings close, keeping me close, and I wanted to know what was holding him back.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if it was fear of the critics or fear of the unknown. Either way, I was determined to make him see what I knew the rest of the world would see. I’d found him down in the arbor this afternoon, and I’d finally gotten to the bottom of things.

  “How long have you been out here?” I asked as my cane hit the bench.

  “An hour or so,” he replied.

  I could tell he’d stopped whatever it was he was doing.

  “Are you finishing up Acquiesce?”

  I could hear the crunch of the gravel as he moved, and then his large hand took mine, entwining our fingers.

  “Yes, I just finished it now. I was trying to get the background just right.”

  Nodding, I smiled, knowing what a perfectionist he really was, before I decided to just ask him what was on my mind. “When are you going to take the pieces to that little gallery we talked about?”

  His fingers squeezed mine, as he released my hand. I felt him turn and walk away from me.

  “Phillipe?” I queried quietly. Something was definitely bothering him, and I wanted to know what it was. “Talk to me. Why don’t you want to go to town? That’s all you’ve talked about since we first started.”

  As the silence stretched between us, I moved to the bench, sitting down. “Will you tell me what’s going on, please? Why won’t you call the gallery owner?”

  “I don’t think I want to anymore,” he mumbled.

  My mouth dropped
open in shock. “What do you mean you don’t want to? That’s all you’ve ever wanted.” I paused, trying to work out what might have changed his mind. “Is it me? Do you want a different model? I won’t be offended.”

  Before I knew it, I felt him sit beside me, taking my hands.

  “Are you crazy, Chantel? No,” he answered, bringing my knuckles up to his lips.

  “Then what?” I questioned, taking my hand and running it up through his hair. “Tell me.”

  He turned his face so his lips touched the center of my palm. “I’m scared,” he confessed.

  My heart clenched as I tried to understand this complex man I was hopelessly in love with. “Of what?”

  “The world.”

  Laughing a little, I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Only months ago, you wanted to conquer it.”

  There was silence for a moment, and I could hear his breathing. One steady breath in, and one long breath out. “Months ago, I had nothing to lose.”

  I blinked as I continued to thread my fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the thickness of it. “And now you do?”

  “Yes,” he told me as she leaned forward, laying his lips on mine. “Now, I have you.”

  “Yes, you do. I’m not going anywhere.” I gripped his hair, tugging on it. I felt him relax as he let me pull his head up. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’m going to go somewhere?”

  I felt a brush of air as his fingers came forward to touch my cheek.

  “Where would I go, you crazy man?” I asked him before I promised. “I will only be as far as your heart lets me go.”

  With his hands cupping my cheeks, he moved in and whispered against my mouth, “They won’t understand.”

  “Who won’t?”

  “The world, your parents—they won’t understand what I see when I look at you, how I feel when you play, or the way that I love all of the simple things that makes you whole.” He continued to confess almost desperately, “Some might even say it’s wrong.”