Torture to Her Soul
Page 52

 J.M. Darhower

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
"Tell me," I whisper, running my tongue along the shell of her ear. "Tell me how you want it to be. Tell me what you need from me."
I'll give her anything.
I'll tear my fucking chest open with my bare hands, rip out my heart and hand it to her, if that's what she needs.
All she has to do is tell me.
All she has to do is ask.
She could bark out a million demands, and I would work myself to the death making them all happen, but instead she merely whispers, "I want you to love me."
So I do.
I love her.
I take my time inside of her, my lips never leaving her skin as I thrust deep, filling her with every inch of me that I can. I make love to her until her skin is flushed, coated in another layer of sweat, until she starts pleading with me again, this time to give her more.
Harder.
Deeper.
More.
More.
More.
Her breasts are flush against my chest, her nipples hard as she presses them into me like she's desperate for more friction. Her hands rake down my spine, not digging into the skin, not drawing blood, but I can feel the mark they leave behind, a trail of tingles I can't shake. My face is nuzzled into her neck as I breathe heavily, panting, my tongue lapping at the sweaty skin before I press my lips to the spot just below her ear and suck. She squeals, fisting my hair again.
I can feel her body tensing beneath me as I slide in and out of her, holding her so close I graze her clit with each stroke. I increase the pace, just enough to thrust a bit deeper, to hit it a bit harder.
She lets out a strangled noise, throwing her head back. I bite down on her shoulder as she comes, listening to her cries of pleasure as the tiny convulsions rock her body. I can feel mine getting close, building inside of me. I don't have the energy to hold it back, to delay it any longer.
I shiver, grunting into her neck as I come inside of her just as her own orgasm starts to fade. I thrust a few times, riding through the waves of pleasure, before stilling on top of her.
I don't move away, don't let go of her, staying deep inside of her as I hold her against me, listening to her raspy breaths, feeling her pulse as her heart frantically beats.
Don't regret it, I think, closing my eyes. Don't tell me you regret giving yourself to me.
She lies still, not moving an inch, like she's trying to get her thoughts in order, like she's trying to pull herself together.
Don't fucking regret it.
Whatever you do.
"Naz, I—"
Before she can get out whatever it is she wants to say, a sudden noise interrupts us, the obnoxious blaring loud even upstairs in the bedroom.
It only takes a second for it to hit me.
My car.
I quickly pull away from Karissa and jump to my feet, grabbing my shorts from the floor and pulling them on.
"Stay here," I tell her, running out before she can question me. I sprint downstairs and head toward the front door, grabbing my keys from where I discarded them when we got home.
I head into the den and walk along the bookshelves, my fingers quickly skimming the spines of books until I come upon my copy of War & Peace, still in the right spot.
Luckily Karissa hasn't ever tried to read it.
I pull it off the shelf and open it up. The pages are cut out, leaving a gaping hole right in the center, a silver revolver tucked into it. I pull the gun out, tossing the book on the desk, and make sure it's still loaded as I head for the front door.
The alarm is blaring so loudly it's practically vibrating the ground. I hit the button on my spare key, relieved when it shuts off through the wall. I strain my ears, listening to the silence, before unlocking the door and slowly opening it. My heart furiously pounds against my ribcage as my eyes scan the yard, the gun gripped tightly in my hand, prepared for anything.
It's quiet, and still. There's nobody around, nothing except my car, the driver's side door hanging wide open, a familiar set of lost keys dangling from the lock. I eye them for a moment before stepping over to the driveway and pulling them out, giving a quick glance inside the car before slamming the driver's side door closed.
I'm staring out into the darkness when I hear a squeak behind me. Everything inside of me seizes momentarily before kicking into high gear, fueled by adrenaline. Spinning around, I raise the gun at whatever's moving, my finger slipping right off the trigger as soon as I see her.
Karissa.
I'm aiming right at her face.
She freezes in the doorway to the house, whimpering. I move the gun away at once, raising my hands to show her I mean no harm.
"Fuck, Karissa, don't sneak up on people. You're going to get yourself hurt. I told you to stay where you were."
Her frantic gaze darts all around me, trying to make sense of things as I flick on the safety and stick the gun in my waistband.
"What's happening?" she asks. "I mean, what was...?"
"It was just the car alarm."
The answer calms her a bit, although her gaze keeps flickering to my gun. "What set it off?"
"Don't worry about it," I say. "I handled it."
She wants to ask more but the racket of the garage door raising interrupts her when I push the button so I can move the car out of the driveway. It gives me a moment to collect myself as I run my hands down my face, taking a deep breath.
"Relax," I say when it's quiet again. "It could've just been a raccoon."
"A raccoon?"
"Yes."
She shakes her head. "I thought you didn't lie to me?"