Page 32 of The Invite
She’ll remember who she messed with.
The price it cost her.
I push aside the rest of the robe around her ribs and immediately come to a still.
There’s no disguising what I’m seeing.
An ugly stab wound. Small and light that one might miss if they don’t look closely and it is at least a couple of years old.
It confirms my belief that she has skeletons buried in her closet. No way she moved here for a fresh start.
She’s running away from something or… someone.
Nessa doesn’t notice where my attention is paused and I move my hand before she can.
Dragging my palm down her flat belly, I commit the feel of her skin to memory. My slow and explorative touch is enough to cut through the haze and her eyes circle wide in repulsion. Not at me, at herself for igniting under my touch.
“Don’t touch me!”
She should know by now her orders mean shit to me.
I keep trailing my fingers lower until they reach the top of her wet heat. I break our connection and bend my neck to get my first unhindered view of her pussy that hasn’t stopped plaguing my psyche.
A pussy is a pussy.
A hole to get my dick wet.
Nothing special.
But the memory of hers has altered my beliefs. This one is definitely special. Because for once in my life, it comes attached to a person who has evoked emotions inside me. Even if they are destructive, cruel, and obsessive.
Her stomach hollows in and out when she realizes my intent, fruitlessly trying to close her slightly spread thighs.
Potent lust encompasses my brain when my eyes land on her cunt and I stop blinking in rapture. She has a small landing strip and as I stare lower, glistening pussy folds beckon my tongue and lips for a taste.
Lord! She’s heavenly.
Perfectly pink and tiny.
My fingers rub along the small patch of hair before connecting with her soaked slit. She’s so damn slippery, all from the brief stimulation on her tits. I’m tempted to see if I can make her come from playing with them alone.
I massage her folds from the top to the bottom.
The same way when I had her bound against the tree.
She reacts the same way too.
Leaking more liquid arousal on my palm.
I can’t stop staring, my cock dripping precum as I sink one finger through her slit. After stroking twice more, I part and expose the darker skin inside. Her swollen and neglected clit pokes from its hood.
Nessa moans when I scrape my nail over the sensitive nub.
“Stop! I don’t want this!”
Her sweet begging draws my attention back to her face and I become riveted. Shame darkens the color of her cheeks, making me torn about whether to watch her expression or what I’m doing to her pussy.
She twists her head, burying her face against her arm.
