Page 60 of Monster's Edge

“Spread your legs,” Ian tells me. His voice is thick, rough. He’s turned on. I am, too. I don’t even care that it’s a little embarrassing that I’m naked and he’s not. He’s got all of the power in this situation. He can do whatever the fuck he wants to me. “I want to see that pretty cunt of yours.”

It’s a rough word. A dirty word. It’s one I don’t use myself because it still feelswrong. Then again, what part of this situation doesn’t feel wrong?

I spread my legs a little, offering him what he wants to see. I’m glad I’m shaved. Not that I think he’d care. Ian doesn’t seem like he cares if he’s fucking someone who shaves her pussy or doesn’t. Still, I feel good about the way I look in this moment, and when he looks at my body, I think he seems a little bit pleased.

“You’re wet, Rose.” He says this without emotion. He doesn’t seem happy or disappointed by this fact.

“Yes, Mr. Salucci.” I’m proud of myself for remembering my manners. He’s not going to get me on a technicality today. Anything he does to me, anything he dishes out, I’ll take it. I don’t care. I want the pain. I want to forget.

Maybe I should let go of my manners to piss him off a little bit, but I can’t bring myself to do that.

As much as I want Ian to hurt me today, I also want him to feel proud of me and my performance, so I stay where I am, and I kneel before him, and I look up at the monster who has both broken my world and rescued it. How am I supposed to come to terms with something like this?

“Did you touch yourself this morning?” Ian asks.

I shake my head. “No, Mr. Salucci.”

“Are you lying?”

“No, Mr. Salucci. I woke up and went to breakfast. Then...” My voice trails off for just a moment. He knows what happened next. “Then I came here,” I say lamely. I don’t want to fill in the blanks with everything I did today. I definitely haven’t had an orgasm today, though. I also don’t know if Ian’s going to let me have one.

He seems perfectly happy to use my body for his pleasure and his happiness. By the time we’re done, I’m going to be broken and sore. Maybe he’ll even have me sleep down here. I don’t see a cage. Sometimes assholes like to lock girls in cages. I don’t see anything like that, though. I’m not sure where I’ll be.

“Touch yourself now,” he says. “Don’t come.”

So he wants a show. Is that it? I can do that. I can give this guy a show. I’ve never done this before – touching myself in front of another person. I’ll do it, though, and I’ll make it good. I’m not scared to do this because I know that Ian likes it. Why else would he bring me here? Why else would he show me his freaky sex dungeon?

“You’re overthinking.” His voice breaks through my thoughts and I look up at him. Then I blurt out the truth.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Is it just me, or does Ian look amused? His lips quirk just a little, like he’s trying to hide the ghost of a smile. They flatten out almost instantly, but his eyes never leave mine. For about half of a second, I think he’s going to say something sweet or encouraging. This is the part of the story where the dominant partner always tells the reporter girl, “Hey, I believe in you. You’re pretty and sweet and you can do this.”

That’s not Ian, though.

I’m not a reporter.

And I’m not even supposed to be here.

Ian leans forward and reaches for my wet hair, grabbing it and yanking me forward. I shove my hands out to brace my fall. Somehow, I’m able to stop myself before my face collides with the carpeted floor.

“Touch your pussy, Rose. Show me what a good little slut you can be. I’m not a patient man.”

He releases me and I fall back. I scramble to get back into the position I was in a minute ago. Yeah, he’s right. He’s not a patient man. He takes what he wants and what he’s taking is...me.

I start touching my breasts. I keep my eyes on him. I’m absolutely certain he doesn’t want me to close my eyes. If I close them, it’s like putting up a wall between us and that’s not going to make him happy, so instead of doing that, I force myself to keep them open.

Slowly, my hands move down my body. I run them down my soft tummy, over my thighs, and then finally, to my pussy. He’s right. I am wet. Apparently, danger and assholes turn me on. Who knew? Definitely not me. Definitely not my eReader.

I start stroking myself, touching my pussy for him. Having him watch me makes this pretty hot, I realize quickly. Okay, I can see why people do this. I can see why people like the idea of someone putting on a sexy little show for them. It’s actually pretty hot and dirty.

I love the way he’s looking at me. He’s staring at me like I’m hot and dirty and delicious, and I’m staring right back. Ian could do a million different things to me and I’ll let him. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.

A moment later, he stands. He doesn’t tell me to stop touching myself, but I do, dropping my hands to my side. What is he doing? I want to reach out and grab him. I want to pull him close to myself and just rub my face over his dick, but he walks to a wardrobe at the side of the room and opens the doors.

“Don’t stop touching yourself.”

There’s a hint of warning in his voice, and I realize this isn’t up for discussion. I’mnotallowed to stop touching myself. He won’t permit that.

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