Torn Asunder Ch. 02: Lust

His hands on me, strong and demanding. Over my arms, my breasts, my ass.

His breath, hot against my neck, as I felt his cock slide hard into my warm, wet cunt.

***

I broke free of the fantasy with a sharp gasp and a shake of my head, biting back a moan as my fingers clenched at imagined bedsheets. My breaths were coming hard and I struggled to calm myself down without alerting anyone else in the office.

These fantasies were so intense, and it seemed like every time my mind wandered I was caught up in them again and again.

There was a hand on my shoulder.

"What." I said, sharper and louder than I meant to. I ripped the headphones out of my ears and glared up at the owner of the hand - Alex. I suppressed a shudder.

"You need a break," he said softly. I looked into his eyes, but quickly focused elsewhere, anywhere - everywhere - but him. There was something in his eyes I couldn't define, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

"I'm fine." I said tightly, turning back to my monitor, my gaze jumping around like I was a startled deer, "I just need..."

"Now." He said, cutting me off with a tone of voice that said he would not be disobeyed.

Part of me raged at that. How dare he tell me what to do? I'd only known him for a week and he was already ordering me around like he was my boss.

I put my headphones down, locked my computer, and stood up, all before my mind caught up with what my body was doing.

He walked away without looking back to see if I was following, but he knew I was, because of course I was. I trailed him to the elevators, and stood, fidgeting and refusing to look at him, while we waited. I could feel his gaze on me, but I was afraid of what I would see if I looked up. I hated this feeling of vulnerability and the fact that he seemed to see through me so easily, but part of me felt relief. It was out of my control.

We boarded the elevator, inserting ourselves amongst the few other passengers, but instead of going down to the ground floor like I'd anticipated, Alex pressed the button for the top floor of the building. I stared at the floor and tried not to succumb to the panic flooding me, taking short, shallow breaths as though I had just run a sprint.

The other passengers got off - floors six, eight, and nine respectively - and when we arrived at the tenth floor, it was just the two of us left. Alex held the door and motioned for me to leave. I hesitatingly stepped off the elevator onto an empty floor. No one was here, no one worked here. It was waiting to be leased and was blissfully quiet.

Just the two of us now. I walked several feet into the vast open space and stopped, unsure of myself.

He was behind me. I was so acutely, painfully aware of his presence that I didn't even flinch when I heard him speak directly behind my ear, "Breathe," he said, in the same tone that warned me against disobeying.

I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath. I let it out in a sharp whoosh, and the resulting intake was short and shaky.

"Deep breaths," he said, his voice low and soothing.

A tear escaped one of my eyes and traced its way wetly down my cheek. God, that was embarrassing. I tried for a deeper breath, my sides aching painfully as I held in a sob. My breath hitched, and I cleared my throat.

"Again," he said, and I breathed out and in again, following his voice like a metronome. It grounded me and I felt the panic beginning to subside and my shoulders began to relax.

We stood there for several minutes. He never touched me, only directed me with his voice. I wanted him to touch me, but knew that if he did I would break down completely. I felt strangely safe here, and that was dangerous.

I wiped the stray tears from my face, gaining control over my emotions as embarrassment and shame won out. Control was good. Alex didn't need some strange coworker crying all over him after the first week of work.

"Better?" He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I nodded, afraid to speak.

"Good." He stated simply.

I still didn't move. I couldn't face him. I didn't know how to dissolve this awkwardness between us.

I heard him walk a few steps away and I relaxed a little further.

"I'm heading back down," I heard him say as the elevator dinged open, "You take a moment."

"Wait," I said suddenly, turning around, "What was it you needed?" He'd obviously come to me with something, maybe a project he needed a hand on, or a question, but there had been some reason he'd come to see me.

He shook his head as he stepped onto the elevator, "Nothing important," he said, holding the door open for a moment, "But Quinn?"

I liked the way he said my name, "Yeah?" I responded.

"Get some rest this weekend."

I nodded. He let the elevator doors close, and was gone.

***

I closed the door more gently this time when I arrived home. It was still late, but not nearly as late as I had been coming home. Alex was right, I needed a break.

I found the apartment in much the same state as it had been all week - dirty dishes in the sink and all over the counter, garbage not taken out, clothes strewn everywhere...and Mark, sitting playing video games. Though this time, he was wearing pants at least.

I dropped my bag near the door and kicked off my shoes as I felt my temper boiling to the surface.

"Mark," I said through clenched teeth. When he didn't look up, I wasn't sure if it was because of the headphones he was wearing or if he was still giving me the silent treatment. So I went over and ripped his headphones off his head.

"Hey!" He said in surprise, "What the fuck Quinn?"

"Would you fucking talk to me instead of sulking like a teenage girl who was told she couldn't go to a party?" I said, fighting to keep my voice even, "I get that you're pissed at me, but can we talk about it like fucking adults? I said I was sorry three days ago, and you haven't said a word to me since."

"Well you're at work all the fucking time," he spat back, his temper rising to meet my own, "And you're always in a mood when you get home. You PMSing or something?"

I resisted a lot of urges in the next two seconds as impulses came and went - walk away, hit him, laugh - and instead I stepped back to gain some distance and crossed my arms over my chest, "Yes," I said, anger colouring my voice, "I have been working a lot this week, like I told you I had to. I have responsibilities. I am stressed. And I keep coming home to a dirty house and you lazing around playing games."

He stood up, closing the space between us, using his taller and wider frame to intimidate me. I don't think he was doing it consciously, but the effect was the same - I backed away towards the wall, my arms dropping to my sides. "I'm stressed too, and playing games is how I relax. How is your stress more important than mine?" He said as he continued to advance.

"It's not," I said flatly, feeling hot tears come to my eyes. I hated confrontation, and anger made me shut down and get defensive, but we needed to clear the air. "But," I continued, "I can't keep picking up all the slack around here, I need help. I need you to help."

My back hit the wall, and Mark stood in front of me, close enough that I could see the anger flashing in his eyes, his nostrils flaring. Things had escalated far faster than I'd anticipated. We had both been on the edge of exploding and I had just pulled the trigger. I put my hands up against his chest and pushed lightly, I needed to calm us down before we did something we'd regret. "Mark," I said quietly, "Give me some space. You're scaring me."

"Oh," he said mockingly, "I'm scaring you now. Well maybe you should've thought of that before." He continued to stand there, unmoving.

I shoved him, but I had no leverage and he only moved a step back. He grabbed my wrists in his hands and wrenched them above my head, pinning me to the wall. "Don't. Fucking. Push me." He said through clenched teeth as he moved in until there was barely any space between us.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized how exposed I was. How defenseless.

How turned on.

Well that was a disgusting thought. I was turned on by this. I could understand why - Mark and I had dabbled in BDSM and other kinks before, playing with bondage, with domination, even a little with a rape fantasy I had confessed to him once - but this was different. This was real. And it still turned me on.

Both of us were breathing heavily into the sudden silence, staring into each other's eyes. His grip tightened around my wrists, and pain shot through them making me whimper. My eyes darted down over his naked chest and I could feel his cock hard against my thigh. This was turning him on too.

My eyes flicked back up to his, to the rage smoldering there, and I saw lust there too - the desire to take what he wanted from me and my feelings be damned.

I absorbed all of that in a moment, and pulled my head away from the wall, kissing him - hard.

A/N: Sorry for the tease! Stay tuned for Chapter Three: Envy!