Desire surges through me at the sight, need shooting down my spine, going straight to my cock. My heart, naturally, feels nothing; there’s no emotion behind my need to spread her legs. To eat her out, then leave her wet and crying when she refuses to come from this monster.
None.
“Strip,” I order, ready to move things along. To stop thinking so fucking much. “Now.”
Ten years ago, her gasp would’ve been adorable.
Today, the bitter taste of satisfaction fills my mouth.
“Do you want me to come up there and rip the dress off you?” Just to fuck with her some more, I adjust the bulge in my pants. Squeeze it, once. “Was last night not enough?”
“Bastard.”
I cock my head and take a step closer.
“No, no, I’ve got this.”
Seeing how serious I am, she hooks her fingers on the lapels of her dress. They tremble as she slips it off her shoulders. Her chin dips, eyes cast to the floor.
My heart slams to a stop when the fabric falls at her feet. When she bares herself to me.
I saw her naked yesterday, but it wasn’t anything like this, to have her react to me when she’s conscious.
Her prickly skin. Her hardened nipples. Her fingers that flex as they cover her pussy. The throat working to swallow.
It’s all for me.
I fucking love it.
“That’s a good girl,” I taunt, rounding the pedestal slowly again, each step deliberate.
She doesn’t move. Her stillness is an offering, one I intend to exploit.
If I could just stop wanting to hug her.
Shut up.
“What now?” she asks.
Ignoring the question, I clasp my hands behind my back and keep walking. Keep watching her.
The light from the lamp reveals every line and curve. I wish I could be immune to her beauty, that I could be any less addicted, but I can’t.
Damn her, she’s too perfect. Even the bleach stains are, in a way, beautiful. So much so that it fills my chest with white-hot rage.
By the time I return to stand beside the lamp, fresh tears streak Elowyn’s cheeks. They fall in silence, tracing smooth skin before dripping to the floor.
I feel no sadness, or pity for how belittling this experience is. I can’t.
“Do you know what this light shows?” I jerk my chin toward the lamp. “What I’ll be looking into tonight?”
“Why are you doing this?” Her eyes find mine, the fear in them bare and unguarded. “You’ve already seen everything.”
“You mean yesterday?” I’m an asshole for stretching out her embarrassment. “Hmm?”
The shallow rise and fall of her chest catches the light. Her eyes narrow, forehead creasing.
She isn’t just scared anymore. She’s furious.
