Page 219 of Ominous: Part 1

“Eli, what are you doing?” She starts to shiver, propped up on her hands, the water winding its way down the drain.

I can’t stop myself from touching more than her fucking ankle, perfect as it is.

I lean over from my seat on the edge of the tub and place my hand over her chest. I feel the curve of her breast beneath my palm, her nipple sharpened into a tight point.

Her pulse I can feel too, slow and steady like a soft knock against my hand.

Her body is still coiled tight with tension, even as her eyes are sleepy, but they hold mine.

“What do I need to do?” she whispers, staring up at me with what I choose to believe is adoration but could just as easily be terror. I think, maybe, they’re the same thing.

I push against her sternum. She resists for only a moment, then, probably realizing if she goes down like I want, the dwindling supply of water will cover her for a little longer, she lies down on her back.

“You need to chill. Let me do everything.” I crawl my fingers up over her throat as water pools around her halo of braids, then arcs down the drain, causing no harm to her. My hand grazes her throat, and she tucks her arms close to her body, like she might cover herself, but she settles with her clenched fists grazing her shoulders, her elbows bent.

I don’t examine her again until my hand is pressed gently over her eyes, which close as if on command. Like she’d been waiting for me to let her look away from this.

And I’ve been waiting to take in every fucking inch of her.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Eli—”

“Nothing at all. If I need you to do something, I’ll tell you, understand?” I keep my voice authoritative, but my throat feels raw as I drag my gaze over her body. The curve of her breasts, the palest hairs along her chest, standing on end as she shivers in the tub, arms still tucked tight to her body. Her pale skin contrasting with the tan line from her swimsuit, the starkness of those black bracelets on her wrist.

I look lower, the impressions of her ribcage, substantial for such a short girl. I could place my fingers in between each one on sight alone. I bite my lip as I see the flat, soft plane of her tummy, small divot of her belly button.

But I almost lose every ounce of self-control I possess when my eyes trail over the crease of her thick thighs, her ass pressed against the base of the tub, her knees wide with the underside resting on the ledge of the tub, warm water gushing from the faucet onto her pretty little cunt, hitting just to the right of her lips, so she’s not getting any direct pleasure.

Not yet.

“Eli.” She sounds uncomfortable, and it pulls at my heart.

I force myself to look at her face, her mouth turned down into a frown as her eyes struggle to stay closed beneath my fingers. “I’m right here, Eden.”

She slides her fingers over her tits, and pulls her legs slightly in, her knees going together as she tries to hide herself from me. There’s the faintest trickle of pink in the shallow water that collects at the end of the tub. I say nothing to her about it.

“Widen your knees, okay?” I don’t tell her to move her hands from her tits. Not yet.

“I don’t think we should do this.”

I close my eyes and clench my jaw. But I’m not going to force her, even though that would be fun, too. It’s unfair, the playing field tilted as is. My strange little experiment is likely only working because her adrenaline crashed from caring for Dom, and the pills she took, and the alcohol I watched her drink earlier.

Don’t push your luck, Eli.“Do you want to stop?” I try my very best to keep my tone even, but with all the blood rushing to my cock, it’s hard to do that.

She’s quiet a moment. Then she says, in a small voice I wonder if I should believe, “No.” And taking a deep breath, she widens her knees, scooting closer to the base of the tub.

And she whimpers before I can direct her on what to do next.

I tense, slowly, so slowly, opening my eyes as I slide my hand up to her knee.

And I see it. The water pulsing over her pussy, her pink lips parted, her clit growing redder as her blood rushes to it, the feel of the water stimulating her.

I dig my fingers into her kneecap, watching.

Her eyes are closed, her fingers still covering her breasts, and she’s trembling.

“Does it feel good, baby girl?” I ask her, the water arcing around her beautiful body, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. She doesn’t answer me for a long moment, her eyes squeezing tighter, the faintest creases forming around the edges.

Finally, she says, “Yes.” It’s a moan more than a word, and I bring my free hand to my cock, palming myself over my swim trunks, watching her thighs widen more, falling out to the side, the soles of her feet brushing one another, the silver of the faucet between her ankles.