Page 7 of His Little Turquoise
I squirm, trying to free myself, needing to see Ava. I want to talk to her.
“Mia,” I hear her say. She touches my bare leg.
I can’t see her. I fight against Surgient’s firm grip, but he’s too strong. He’s keeping my face toward him.
Suddenly he’s moving. Walking fast. The sounds of the club are booming around us. He cradles me so close that nothing and no one touches me. I hear gasps as we pass people.
“Why her?” someone says.
“Lucky bitch,” someone else mutters.
“Damn, how unfair,” comes from another voice.
“I’ve never even seen her before.”
“Who is she?”
“I have no idea.”
“Is she even an adult?”
Surgient pushes through a door, and the voices, music, and shouting are silenced. He eases his grip on my head. “Don’t listen to any of them, Baby girl,” he says when our eyes meet.
I shove against him. “Let me go. I need to go home.” I’m no match for him though. Not even close. He doesn’t have to exert himself to continue to hold me.
An elevator opens, and Surgient steps inside. He rolls me so I’m more tightly pressed against him and kisses my temple. “I know you’re afraid, Baby girl. I promise to make it better.”
My heart is racing. I continue to wiggle in his arms, but I can’t get down, and if I did somehow cause him to drop me, I would be injured from this height. He’s so tall.
My mind races. I picture my apartment. I’m never going to go there again. Everything I own is gone to me. Suddenly I gasp and lift my face to his. “Pokey!” I shout. “I can’t leave Pokey.” I fight against him harder. Now I’m frantic. Crying.
When the elevator opens, Surgient steps off and moves quickly across the room. Finally, he lowers onto a sofa. His expression is filled with concern. “Who’s Pokey?”
“My stuffie!” I scream. “I’ve had him all my life. I can’t leave him.” I’m gasping. A part of me is dying. For some reason, leaving my apartment, my job, my friends, my entire life…none of that is as dire as leaving Pokey.
Surgient stills me with a hand to my bare thighs and one around me that traps my arms. “Shhh. Look at me, Mia.”
I shake my head. I don’t care that I’m having the biggest tantrum of my life. I’m panicking.
“Mia,” he insists. “Look at Papi.”
I’m crying now, big fat tears that won’t stop. Sobbing. I don’t want to listen to him. I don’t care if he spanks me. I don’t care that I’m being naughty and disobedient.
“Take a breath and look at Papi,” he says again. He’s so calm. He’s not the least bit bothered by my tantrum.
I’m feeling stubborn. Very, very stubborn. For the first time in my life, my Little is defiant and not willing to let up.Pokey…
I’m crying so hard I’m going to hyperventilate.
Surgient lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers. A second later, something pinches me. Or…pierces me.
I jerk on my hand, but he won’t let go. He draws my injured finger into his mouth and sucks on it, stroking it with his tongue. It’s the strangest feeling. Mesmerizing. But I’m mad, so I try to arch and buck.
Surgient doesn’t even get winded from my attempts. He pops my finger out of his mouth and draws in the next one. When I feel another prick, I twist my head to face him.
“What are you doing?” I blabber between sobs. “That hurts.”
He does it again to my next finger while I watch. I can’t see what he’s piercing me with. He does it while my fingers are in his mouth. He switches back and forth now, starting over, sucking them, twirling his tongue around them, pricking them. With his teeth.
