Page 16 of Fractured Loyalties
I watch her for a long time, memorizing her geometry. The slight bump in her nose, the way her fingers curl as if she’sholding something invisible, and the way her white thong is just barely exposed on the curve of her hip.
Honestly, I could sit here for hours, just drinking her in. But I want more than that.
I want to know how shefeels. I want to see if she’s as soft as she looks, if she smells like that cheap perfume, or if it’s just her skin.
I let my hand hover over her, lingering in the charged air above her waist. My fingers uncurl. I hesitate, my body humming with anticipation. I touch her through the nightshirt first, just a gentle graze along the curve of her upper hip.
She shifts slightly, and I pull my hand away, my pulse thundering as I brace for her to wake up.
But she doesn’t.
I wait another thirty seconds, counting out the beats in my head. Her breathing steadies, and a light sigh slips from between her lips.
You’re so fucking pretty, my little lamb.
I start to lose my sense of control, and I touch her again, this time slower, running my palm up the outer ridge of her thigh. The skin is velvety and chilled from the open window. I press down, feeling the outline of her femur and then the warm give of muscle and fat.
She makes a sound, a half-sigh, a half-wordless complaint. Her knees draw together. I hold my breath and watch her face. Her eyes stay shut. I’m not sure if she’s dreaming or stirring, but I don’t take my hand away this time.
Instead, I slide my fingers higher, over the crest of her hip to her waist, staying over the nightshirt. She’s tiny, the bones so close to the surface I could snap them with one hand.
This only arouses me further.
I flatten my palm on her stomach and feel it quiver under me. She’s alive with heat there, radiating up into my hand. Imove up, tracing the seam of her ribs through the thin shirt. My fingertips find her left nipple. It stiffens against my touch, and I graze it again, just to see.
She sucks in a sharp breath. Her arm jerks above her head, but again, her eyes remain closed.
I circle her nipple with my thumb, pinching gently. I can feel my own heart beating in my cock. I want to put my mouth on her, to bruise her so she remembers me when she wakes up.
But not tonight.
I continue exploring, kneading her breast through the fabric, and rolling the tip between my fingers. A whimper escapes her lips. She shifts her hips and presses her thighs together. The muscles in her stomach tense and then relax. I slide my hand down, over her stomach again, down to the hem of her shirt.
I could stop. I could leave right now, and she’d never know.
But that’s not how this works. Once I get started, I don’t fucking stop.
I slip my fingers under the hem of the shirt and touch more of her bare skin. It’s so fucking warm. I trace around her navel, and then dip lower, until my hand rests on the waistband of her underwear. They’re white, which only makes her seem all the more innocent. All the more satisfying to fucking violate.
I push lower, feeling the soft swell of her pussy. The fabric is damp, but it’s too cold to be sweaty. It’s fromher.
What are you dreaming about, Little Lamb? Is it me?
I press my thumb against her clit, hard enough to feel it throb. She gasps and clamps her thighs around my hand. But, still, she doesn’t wake up.
And she doesn’t move away.
I keep it up, circling slowly, methodically, feeling her underwear soak even more. She starts to moan, softly, almost too quiet to hear. Her hips move on their own, grinding againstmy hand. I want to tell her how good she is, and how bad I want to ruin her…
But I keep my mouth shut.
Carefully, I slide two fingers under the elastic, sliding them up the seam of her pussy before dipping them inside.
Oh fuck, she’s soaked.
Her breathing ramps up, her chest heaving, and her face contorting with sleepy pleasure. She fists the comforter with one hand, her knuckles whitening. I pump my fingers against her, slow and patient, learning her rhythm. She arches her back, her lips parted in a silent plea.
The room is still, moonlight slashing across her face.
