Torture to Her Soul (Monster in His Eyes 2) - Page 56/96

"Oh."

That's all she says, like she never considered we could play around any other way that didn't involve violence.

I nod toward her as I say the word for the third time. "Strip."

This time she doesn't question it.

Reaching down, she grasps the bottom of her dress and quickly pulls it over her head before letting it drop to the floor, leaving her in a strapless black bra and a matching thong. She kicks off her shoes before hesitating, eyeing me questioningly.

I nod, encouraging her to go on.

The bra hits the patio floor within seconds before she hooks her thumbs on the sides of her thong, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she yanks them down. She stands there afterward, completely naked, but positions her arms in front of her in an attempt to shield her body.

I just stare at her, taking in every curve that she'll let me see.

She fidgets more from the unabashed attention.

"Well?" she says, a bite to her words. "Are you happy now?"

Huh. Defensive.

I like it.

"Very," I confess. "Although, your stripping skills could use a bit of work."

"Yeah, well, excuse the fuck out of me. You just said take them off... wasn't aware I was supposed to put on some Def Leppard and make a show of it."

"Now you know for next time."

She rolls her eyes, and I can't help but laugh.

"So is this how we're playing around today? Humiliating me?"

"No, but I'm intrigued by the fact that you're humiliated. I was under the impression being watched turned you on."

"This is different."

"How so?"

She groans with frustration. "It just is. You're looking at me, and you're not saying anything."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know." She throws her hands up in exasperation, forgetting she was trying to cover herself. "Anything!"

I motion for her to come closer and she obliges, stepping right over to me. As soon as she's close enough, I grasp her hips, pulling her down onto the lounge chair with me. She straddles my lap, her hands resting between her legs.

"I love every inch of you," I tell her. "Every part of your body that makes you nervous gives me pleasure. I see no flaws, nothing for you to be ashamed of or humiliated over... nothing you should hide from me. I've seen it all, and I love it. You're beautiful, baby."

Her expression softens, shoulders relaxing. "That's the first time you've ever called me that."

"Called you what?"

"Baby," she says quietly. "You never call me that."

"Does it bother you?"

"What? No, of course not." She looks at me like she's legitimately confused. "Why would it?"

"Some women find it degrading."

"Not me. It makes me feel..." She smiles softly as she trails off. "Well, you know."

"Makes you feel what?" I ask curiously.

"Like I'm special," she says. "Like you cherish me. Like you love me."

"I do," I say, my hands drifting from her hips up to her chest, my fingertips grazing her breasts, thumbs brushing against her erect nipples. "I'm in love with you, baby."

She smiles when I say it again, biting down on her bottom lip to fight off a full-blown grin. Had I known the word would have such an impact on her, I'd have said it long ago.

And I would've said it over… and over… and over again.

I kiss her softly, tweaking her nipples as she squirms against me. My lips move from hers, tracing her jawline, before I whisper in her ear. "Touch yourself."

Her eyes widen as I pull away, relaxing back in the chair. "Seriously?"

I nod, my hands moving back to her hips. "I want to watch."

"I, uh..." She's nervous again. "I don't know."

"Just lay back and close your eyes," I say. "Show me how you pleasure yourself."

It doesn't take much more coaxing before she lies back on the lounge chair between my legs, her head at the end near my feet. She shifts around, inching closer. Her hands cup her pussy, just covering it for a moment, before she slowly starts touching herself. It's stiff at first, her movements rigid as anxiety eats at her, but the more she rubs, the more her body loosens up. She traces circles around her clit, my eyes drawn to her red nail polish against the glistening pink as she spreads her legs wider, giving me a better view.

My cock is so hard it hurts, straining my pants as it throbs. I'm desperate to pull it out, to stroke it fast for some much-needed relief, but I'm frozen, awestruck, watching her. I caress her skin, my hands gently running from her knees up her thighs and back again.

She writhes, rubbing faster, harder, as she starts to whimper. She's getting close already. The sound, I'm convinced, is going to fucking kill me.

Death by orgasm... and it's not even my own.

I was wrong. I thought she was most beautiful doing nothing, but no other moment touches this one. She trusts me, I realize. Trusts me enough to let go, to show me the her no one else ever sees, the her she is when she's all alone.

The her that only Karissa really knows.

Her whimpers turn to cries. Her back arches. I feel the muscles in her legs clench, her knees locking and toes curling as orgasm tears through her.

"Oh God," she moans. "Uhhh, Naz!"

Eyes closed, giving this to herself, and she cries out for me. Me. I nearly come in my fucking pants. A groan vibrates my chest as my hands settle on her inner thighs, gripping hold as she trembles from pleasure. It only lasts a few seconds until she stops rubbing, until she collapses back onto the lounge chair.

She doesn't look at me. She just lays there, her breathing strained as she cups her pussy again. I loosen my grip on her thighs, my hands coming to rest on her knees. My thumbs lightly stroke her kneecaps and it only takes a few seconds before she giggles.

She's ticklish.

Her eyes peek open and meet mine. I can tell she's still nervous, but she's smiling like she's relieved.

"I'm glad that's over," she says.

"Oh, but you're wrong," I reply. "That was only beginning."

I slip off the lounge chair and grab her hand, tugging her to her feet. Her legs are wobbly as I pull her across the balcony.

"Wait, where are we going? What are we doing? Wait!"

I don't respond. Answering is senseless. She knows exactly what I'm doing as I tug her over to the wall surrounding the balcony. It's only a few feet tall, stopping in the middle of her torso as I pull her in front of me, her back to my chest, and press her up against it.