Psycho ➳ H.S.

Chapter 8

Carissa observed Harry while on her break as he ran about the kitchen, helping other chefs with whatever they required- tomatoes, hollandaise sauce, the occasional splash of white wine- and she shook her head in disbelief.


"You sounded like you implied that the person outside my window last night was Harry," she told Lucas, who was situated beside her, drinking coffee. He folded his arms and sighed, then gave her a look that said 'you're really that stupid?'


"I didn't imply anything. I was just wondering why you'd call him when he never answers- especially at night."


"You made him sound horrible! I know you guys are rivals and everything, but-"


"Okay, you know what? Look at this," Lucas interrupted, pulling out his phone. He opened the web browser and typed in an address, which took him to a friend's profile page- someone she knew: Tyson Quinn.


"Tyson?"


"No, no- Tyson's also friends with Harry. Just look," Lucas scrolled through photos until he found the picture he was looking for. He touched the screen to enlarge what he wanted her to see.


It was a picture of Harry and a tall, chestnut-haired woman. She had the warmest brown eyes, and freckles splashed on her cheeks. Her rosy glow was natural because she smiled so often- it was hard to feel jealous of someone who looked as divine as she. And it wasn't just one picture- there were multiple candid photographs of them together at bars, parties, outings, and of her cheering him on at events. They seemed perfect.


"That's Roselle. She was Harry's last real girlfriend. They were together for almost a year before she broke it off with him last spring."


"Why?"


"Don't know," he shrugged, "but I think one of the guys told me that it was because he wouldn't leave her alone."


"Kind of like you before we ended it," teased Carissa. Lucas rolled his eyes and continued on.


"Anyway, Kevin- you know him right?" he asked, and she nodded, "He was going to go for her a couple weeks after she and Harry broke up and he couldn't get in contact with her; she didn't pick up her cell, her online profile was gone, people texted her and they got no replies. We thought that maybe she was just going through some shitty post-breakup withdrawals or something, so some of us went to visit her to see how she was doing."


"How did you know where she lived?"


"She had a party at her place once and invited everyone. Besides the point, we went and visited her and no one answered the door. We asked the landlord to see the apartment."


"And?"


"All of her possessions- literally everything- was gone. No sign of her. No hairs on the ground, no smell in the apartment- nothing."


"Maybe she just...moved. I don't know, there are a lot of people who do stuff like that who can't cope with breakups and stuff-"


"But she broke up with him."


"Well I had a tough time getting over you after we broke up," she explained, scrolling through his pictures with Roselle again, "but the fact that she moved away doesn't mean Harry was the cause."


"I'm not saying he is," he huffed, taking the phone back, "but it's just...it's funny, that's all."


"I'm sure she was just overreacting. I mean, it seems like most of her friends were you guys and obviously after a messy breakup, she won't want to be around him-"


"The thing is, it's not just her."


"Not just her?" Carissa asked, her tone shifting slightly. She could understand that one girl with a derranged outlook on relationships could exist, but the probability that there were more struck a chord- something was not right.


"I don't want to tell you all of this because I want you to stop being friends with him," he replied, his honesty strong in his voice, "but I'm worried. It isn't just a coincidence that every girl he's dated or had a fling with has gone missing. I've known him for a two and a half years, so I've only seen him with Roselle, but Tyson's seen him with Daphne and Willine and Vienna-"


"What?"


"Those were the girls he dated before Roselle. He had a bunch of flings too, and we never hear about them after they fade away. Go and ask Tyson if you don't believe me, or search them up online. Better yet, grab a phone book and search their names up- you'll see their names one year, and in the next they're gone. We can't contact any of them."


She reminded herself of a few things that Harry had said: "I always get nervous when I feel like people are fading away from me...I try really hard to keep them with me, but they just leave,". She remembered calling him a sociopathic killer when they met at the recreation centre, but she didn't recall him denying it. Why was it that he noticed her smell rather than her eyes or her hair, like most men would have? She thought back to their first affair; "Do you trust me?" he asked her.


She pushed it from her mind. She was overthinking it.


"I think it really is just a coincidence, Lucas. I think that it was just bad timing and everybody has reasons for moving away. He's perfectly normal."


"Just...just be careful, Carissa. Please. I know he's not a bad guy, but I just...he's had a history of hurting other people."


"What do you mean by hurting?"


"He beat me up once for talking to Roselle. That's why I stayed away from you for a week that one time- remember? I didn't want you to see me with a god awful black eye," he admitted, turning away as if it was something he'd rather die than relive. She frowned- she didn't take Harry for the violent type, but it made sense. She went back to the place and time in her memory when Lucas had suddenly removed himself from her for several days, and when he finally agreed to see her, she could see the remnants of a bruise covering a quarter of his face. "Just be careful."


She looked at him. His icy blue irises searched her face for a sign that she took his plea into consideration.


"Lucas, he's not a bad guy. You've had disputes because you compete against each other constantly. He's not going to hurt me."


She smiled weakly, and he nodded. She figured that the only way to put an end to her doubts and wonders was to ask Harry about it.


"Do you have a moment?" she asked him once his work took a slow curve later on in the day. Harry hadn't broken his focus since he started working that morning. Lucas had left earlier on- he only really visited because of the incident with the figure in the window the night before. She was poking her head through the back door as Harry passed her.


"Yeah. What's up?"


"I wanted to ask you about something."


He wiped his hands on a towel and strut over to her. They both stood outside in the back alley. Harry leaned up against the brick wall and crossed his arms.


"Go for it."


"I hope this doesn't sound...intrusive," she began, making sure to choose the right words, "but I was just wondering about Roselle."


His smile disappeared and his face went pale. His eyebrows furrowed and he chewed the inside of his cheek while trying to come up with an answer. His hesitance frightened Carissa- there must've been a reason.


"How-?"


"Lucas was just showing me some pictures of you, and-"


"Why was he showing you pictures of me?" he demanded.


"Don't get so defensive!" she snapped, growing agitated, "He was showing me some of Tyson's photos and he had some pictures of you with your ex-girlfriend."


"I don't understand why you're asking about her."


"I...I don't know. I was just curious. She looked nice."


He raised an eyebrow and massaged his neck.


"She was," he replied monotonously. "Is that all?"


"No," she fumed, wondering why he was so eager to finish their conversation. "Where is she?"


"If you must know," he sighed, flexing his arms in pride, "she moved out of town after we broke up."


"Where?"


"I don't know."


"Why?"


"Why all the questions? If you want to ask me something, then get on with it!" he barked. He looked furious, but she was determined to find out why he was being so secretive.


"I want to know why you've never mentioned any of them to me! I mean, I think that after all I've told you, I deserve something-"


"You deserve something? And what exactly do you deserve, Miss Lim?" he hissed. She glared at him, his tone unforgiving.


"I deserve the truth! I've been nothing but honest to you! I told you about me and Lucas-"


"So that means I have to tell you about all of my exes? You wouldn't want to discuss your exes either if you weren't such a fucking virgin!" he retorted. In a way, he had a point- the only person she had ever done anything remotely romantic with was Lucas. Harry took her to a whole new level that she wouldn't ever have gotten with Lucas. "You want the truth? She told me that I cared too much; that I was suffocating her. The place she moved out of? That was my old apartment."


Carissa gulped. Harry's eyes had darkened with anger.


"Yeah, I bet Lucas and the guys told you all about that empty flat, huh? It was our home- no one knew we moved in together. I couldn't stand the place after she left- everything reminded me of her."


"Why didn't you tell anybody that you guys moved in with each other?" she asked quietly. He ran his hand through his hair in distress. She had to know the details- she had to convince herself that the eyes she saw last night weren't green; that they were just green because her imagination told her so.


"It's not like I have to broadcast every decision I make in my life! Besides, it was easier that way. Do you know how much shit I would've gotten from her parents? 'Oh, you're too young to do that', 'She's not ready for that step in her life'- I cared so much that I paid for the down payment myself so we could be together, and she just..." he trailed off, closing his eyes to calm himself down.


"I'm sorry," she apologized. Harry shook his head.


"I should get back to work."


He didn't look at her before venturing back into the building. He left her standing alone in the alley, wallowing in the puddles of guilt he drained from her. She could see where Lucas was coming from, but she could also see Harry's point of view. She still didn't know anything about Daphne, Willine or Vienna; it was clear, however, that her questioning was enough for today.


For the rest of the afternoon, Harry avoided talking to Carissa. He would divert his eyes away from her if they were in each other's field of view. She didn't think he was crazy or that he cared too much; his caring was something she yearned for, and was something that Lucas only recently realized that she needed.


The next day, just before she left work after a long session of tedious pasta making and getting ignored by the man with wild brown hair and inklings on his skin, she saw the silhouette of Harry in Mr. Dale's office looking quite upset. He was using his hands to talk for him, waving them around frantically and pointing at the door a couple of times. He looked like he was trying to explain something. Mr. Dale, on the other hand, seemed quite calm and gestured in a way that said 'stop worrying; it's not your fault'. Harry ran his hand through his hair and shook his head a couple of times, still trying to explain whatever it was that he felt he needed to say. Then, Mr. Dale pointed a finger at Harry, as if threatening him with something. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but by the looks of it, it was getting heated. Harry nodded in understanding of whatever Mr. Dale's agreement or threat was, then grabbed his coat off of one of the mustard-dyed recliners in preparation of departure.


Carissa halted her nosy prying and continued wiping down stations. Harry left the room, hanging his head low so that no one would see his face. She noticed, however, that his nose was red and his eyes were the same; had he been crying? He took a sharp turn into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it from the other side.


"Miss Lim? Please step into my office," called Mr. Dale's voice. He didn't sound cheerful. His voice oozed with seriousness. Had something happened to Harry? Her heart beat ten times faster, as she was unsure of the direction of their meeting. She made his way to his door and timidly waved hello.


"Come in and sit. Don't close the door- Mr. Styles will make his way in shortly."


It was never a good thing when he addressed people by a Mister or Miss followed by their last name. She walked in, keeping her eyes on him. She cracked a small, feeble smile. He didn't smile back. Carissa sat in one of the chairs and waited for Harry. After a few minutes, he returned. His eyes looked redder than before, and he didn't attempt to look at her. He shut the door behind him and sat in the empty seat, keeping his gaze to the floor.


"I'm sorry, but what is this about?" she asked, growing nervous. The tension was thick and she couldn't handle it anymore. She looked to Harry, whose lips were pursed into a thin line, and then to Mr. Dale, who shook his head disappointedly.


"Miss Lim, Mr. Styles has informed me of your relationship."


"I- relationship? I can assure you-" she began.


"Your sexual relationship, Miss Lim," he explained further, turning his laptop so that his screen faced the two of them. The video of their night at the restaurant played on the screen. Clips of her bent over a table, being spanked, and begging for Harry to take her reeled on. She gasped and shut her eyes. Her heart broke- how could he have betrayed her? There was no excuse she could make- the woman was indeed her, and the man was indeed Harry. She turned to face him.


"I swear to you, I didn't-" Harry pleaded to Carissa, holding up his hands in surrender.


"Mr. Styles, you don't need to explain yourself. It came from your email," Mr. Dale interrupted calmly, shutting off the video, "Miss Lim, I thought you knew better. Surely you, out of all people, know the ramifications of sexual relationships in the workplace."


"I do, and I'm sorry, but I can assure you that it won't happen-"


"Oh, it won't happen again. Miss Lim, if I allowed this to happen, then everybody would wonder about you and Mr. Styles, and as an employer-"


"Yes, I know, but-"


"-I'm going to give you a choice. It's either you quit, or I'm afraid I'll have to fire you."


His words echoed in her ears, as if to reiterate themselves thoroughly. Nothing came out of her mouth, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to protest and plea for forgiveness. This job was all she knew; where she really grew up, where she learned the tricks of the trade, and where she met her only family. Tears welled up in her eyes- the things she wanted to say were lost in her colliding thoughts.


"Mr. Styles will not be getting the same punishment as you because he admitted to his fault and told me of his improper behaviour. But I expected you to know better, Carissa."


"I'm sorry, but please-!" she cried, feeling immensely pathetic for letting tears fall.


"I'm not going to give you the option of quitting if you keep this up. I'm sorry, but this is how it has to be."


"Mr. Dale, please don't. I'll take the blame. Fire me. Just please let her keep her job-" Harry insisted, looking at her sobbing into her hands.


"I already told you Mr. Styles, no. I run this restaurant and if things aren't up to par, I have to make sure that they are."


Carissa knew there was no escape from her ultimate fate. She collected herself and took a deep breath. She had to do it.


"Fine. I quit," she spat, getting up and making a wide turn around the chairs before leaving the building for good.


She ran out the back door with her belongings and continued hastily down the twilight street. It was raining again. She couldn't focus on anything but her feet, made of lead, trudging at a quicker pace through the pools of water on the sidewalk. She wiped away her tears- everything had been ripped from her in a matter of minutes. It was a humiliating event that she couldn't forget, even if she tried. She wouldn't have money for a car for a while, but she had enough to pay her rent for the next few months if she cut back on food. You won't last, snickered her conscience, you've got bills to pay on top of bus fare and basic necessities. Perhaps she'd need to reconsider her options.


She had to talk to Lucas, but she dared not use her phone- her bill was high enough from calling friends in out-of-town places . She heard a car slow down on the empty road beside her.


"Carissa, just listen!" Harry called from his car, "I didn't send him anything!"


Carissa snorted and kept walking. She wouldn't put up a fight. She wanted him out of her life. He sold her out. She was only a block or two away from home, and she was determined to keep her mouth shut until she got there. Her hair was getting soaked, but she didn't care- all she wanted to do was be out of his presence.


"I asked him to fire me instead! He told me I couldn't, so I said I'd quit and he threatened to let my future employers know, and I just-" he broke off. He was still driving slowly to try and keep up with her brisk walk.


Carissa didn't want to hear it.


"Why would I do that to you? After working so hard to get you to trust me-?"


"Trust?" she finally broke, "You're talking to me about trust? I let you in, and then I find you with this...slut in your lap at the beach, then I find out you're texting her, and now I'm supposed to believe that you didn't sell me out? It was from your email, Harry. Don't you fucking lie to me!"


"I already told you I didn't-!"


"I suppose you weren't telling me everything about Roselle either, huh?" she jeered; then it hit her, "That's why you went and emailed Mr. Dale! Because there's something you don't want me to know!"


"Oh, for fuck's sake! You don't honestly believe-"


"Yes I do!" she paused, turning to him as he stepped on the brakes, "I didn't even get to ask you about Daphne! Or Willine, or Vienna! What happened to them?"


"Look, whatever Lucas told you-"


"No, I believe him! He's was right when he said that there was something odd about how all of your girlfriends just go missing after you're done with them-"


"What are you accusing me of, huh? Go on- say it!" he barked, parking his car at the side of the street. The rain had come down even harder, like a monsoon, and surely anybody standing in it for more than a few seconds would be drenched from head to toe. She didn't realize she was already in front of her apartment. She quickly pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, dashing inside, but he was fast too- he slipped into the lobby just before the door shut.


"Carissa, answer me!" he yelled, following her up the stairwell. She was a length away from him, but she knew he was getting closer and closer, his long legs taking steps equivalent to two of hers. She changed her speed- she ran to her door, turned the handle after unlocking it, and slammed it shut. Things were momentarily quiet before she jumped when she heard his fists pounding at the entrance.


"Carissa, let me in! Fucking let me in!" he roared. Her neighbours were young socialites that almost always spent their nights out- there was no saving herself now.


"Go away!" she cried, sinking to the floor and hiding her face in her hands. The pounding of his hands would not cease; he kept yelling and cursing at her, demanding she open the door. His sweet voice had turned into raging bursts of fury and anger; all she felt was fear. She couldn't bring herself to believe that he would not hurt her.


"Let me in, Carissa! I mean it! I know you can hear me!"


"I'm calling the police! I saw you outside my window two days ago! I swear, if you don't leave I'll call them!"


The battering stopped. His bellows paused. Everything went silent.


She carefully got to her feet, making sure she made no noise. He couldn't have been gone yet; the stairwell door hadn't clanged shut. Carissa backed away into the darkness as water trickled down her body.


"Let me in, Carissa," said his voice in a calmer tone. He didn't hit or elevate his volume- it was the Harry she wanted to be with.


"Don't make me call the police. I want you to leave."


"Fuck- if you won't let me in, then just listen," he bargained, "I swear to you I didn't send that email. I know it looks bad that I don't really talk about my exes, but that's because they aren't worth talking about. They don't 'go missing'- they don't want to be near me. They think I'm too focused on being with them that...that the easiest way to get rid of me is to go away.


"I care about you so much, and I know everything looks really bad, but I just...I don't know how to make sense of it to you because I don't even understand what's going on. I don't understand why you won't just give me a chance. You're so fucking difficult and stubborn that the fight I put up to get a shot with you is more of a fight I'll put up if I were to let you go. And I don't want you to go."


She stood there, staring at her door and imagining his body on the other side. His speech wasn't lengthy and it wasn't filled with sobs of despair, but his voice embodied truth. She inhaled. Don't you dare let him in, Carissa, warned her conscience.


"I'm going to let you in, Harry," she started, "but if you make one wrong move, I'm calling the cops."


Desperate whore, snapped her conscience.


She advanced to her door and turned the lock, then the handle, and the light from the hallway outside flooded her foyer. Harry stood there with his hair wet and dripping, his tall frame leaning against the door frame, and his eyes were dark. He shut and locked the door behind him and proceeded towards her at an alarming rate, never taking his stare away from her.


"Harry? Harry, stop- stop!" she exclaimed. Her words did her no good- he backed her into the hallway that led to her bedroom. She turned to run and slam the door in his face, but he held her wrist firm in his grip, turning her hand purple from the loss of blood. He pushed her into her room and up against the window where she saw the figure a little less than forty-eight hours ago. Her back was pressed to the periwinkle curtains, arching slightly at the cool sensation caused by the cold rain outside. He stood and stared down at her. His chuckled at the sight of her wriggling to get away and clamped her other wrist in the same hand he held the first behind her back. The twisting of her hands was painful and there was no way she could persuade him to let go.


"You saw me? Out there? Is that what you said?"


"Harry, stop."


"Answer me."


"I want you to stop!"


"No, I want you to fucking stop! Stop being so fucking adamant on being right and just listen!" he shouted. His voice deafened her as she closed her eyes and tried not to picture him as a monster. She whimpered when he brought his free hand up to hold the side of her neck- she didn't want him to touch her, not when he was so angry.


"Get off of me!" she shrieked, pushing her shoulder as hard as she could into him in hopes of getting him to listen.


"Not until you tell me."


"Tell you what?" she spat, "What else could you possibly want from me?"


"Tell me if he has more to offer."


"Like you wouldn't believe," she hissed, shoving her shoulder into him again. He slammed his palm upon the window pane.


"Then tell me why," he snarled.


"Why should I?"


"Because I know you. I know you like the back of my hand. I know that this"- he cupped her ass in his fingers and squeezed- "is all I need to do to-"


"You're fucking sick," she sneered, hiding the fact that she felt a volcano spew out desire in the form of lava in her stomach.


"-And if I do this"- he dragged his hand from her backside to the front of her body, lightly grazing closer, closer, closer to her sensitive spot though the fabric of her pants- "I can get you off no matter how much you try to push me away."


"Don't fucking touch me."


"You're resisting."


"I want you to let me go!"


"Why would I do that?" he smirked, "That would ruin the fun, now wouldn't it?"


"Get away from me!"


"You believed me before," he uttered in her ear, "when I was outside your door. You believed me and that's why you let me in. What makes it different now that we're in this position? Are you afraid of me?"


Every hint of anger washed away from his tone. She stayed silent. He was right- she did believe him. The moment he raised his voice, her faith fled.


"Do you trust me?" he asked in an even lower voice than that of before. She dared not say a word. The stinging of her wrist clutched tight in Harry's hand collided with the emotional toll- she closed her eyes and started to cry. She couldn't take it anymore. There was too much going on; she wanted to drown everything out and forget herself. She knew she couldn't hate him.


She didn't notice Harry wrap his arms around her and pull her away from the window. She didn't notice the soft rocking of his body to and fro, cradling her as she let her eyes leak her frustration onto his shirt. She didn't notice the faint hushes and apologies spilling from his mouth, or the fact that he slowly moved her to her bed and sat her down.


She didn't even notice that she clung onto him when he tried to leave either.


They sat on the plush, ivory sheets of her bed. He nudged her body off of his momentarily to close the blinds and draw the curtains. He flicked on the table lamp. She watched from the bed as he trudged around the room, trying to familiarize himself before approaching her bedroom door.


"Where are you going?" she suddenly called, unsure of what motivated her to do so.


"Leaving."


"Don't."


"I just...I wanted to piss you off because you were being difficult. I didn't mean to hurt you."


She looked at her wrist and noticed the ugly, yellowish bruises starting to form. He was more conscientious of her body more than she was.


"Don't leave."


He turned and shook his head, but she said it again. She'd say it over and over if it could convince him to stay. He faltered, but eventually kicked off his shoes- clattering to the hardwood floor with two thuds- and made his way to the chair in the corner of her room.


"Why did you turn on the light?" she asked, pointing to the lamp.


"You said you were afraid of the dark...I thought maybe-" he cut off, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head again. "Whatever. It's nothing."


She sat stationary on the bed, staring at him sitting in the cramped armchair. His hair was starting to dry, and his cheeks weren't red anymore. The rain poured harder still.


"Did...did you send that email?"


"No."


He didn't look at her. He stared at the wall as he ran his hand through his hair. Carissa got up and advanced toward her closet. She pulled out a spare set of large pajama bottoms and a men's shirt, both left behind by her friend a few months ago, and then pulled out cotton shorts and a tank top for herself. She went to Harry and handed him the clothes.


"I'm not staying."


"I...I don't want you to go."


A pause. Then a sharp exhale.


"I'm not wearing Lucas'-"


"They're not his," she finished before he could get angry again. He raised an eyebrow, then took them from her. He got up and stripped down to his boxers in front of Carissa, changing out of his damp clothes and into warm ones- save the shirt; he refused to wear it to sleep. She was still holding her clothes when he was finished- she wasn't sure if it was because she was admiring his skin pulled taut over his sinewy body, or if she was just distracted by the action of him taking off his pants.


"Do you want me to turn around, or-?" he asked, taking notice that she was standing as still as a light post. She nodded, and he averted his eyes to the opposite direction. He even shielded his peripheral field of view with his hand. She hastily slipped her clothes off and put on her set. She cleared her throat to signal that he could look again. Carissa took their dirty attire and put them in the laundry hamper by her bathroom a few paces away from where they were standing.


"Where's the couch?" Harry questioned.


"Why?"


"I'm not sleeping with you."


He was serious. From every angle, Carissa could see that he really meant what he said.


"You can take my bed-"


"Don't be stupid," he huffed, pushing past her towards the door again.


"Sleep with me, then," she proclaimed. He stopped in his tracks and faced her. She stood there like a deer in the headlights. You couldn't sound more desperate if you tried, taunted her conscience. Carissa walked to her bed, pulled back the comforter, and climbed in. She looked at him with tired eyes and pushed the blankets so the open spot on her double bed seemed more welcoming. He sighed and gave in to her demand, shuffling to the mattress. She found it strange that she missed the simple feeling of the bed dipping down from the other side; she missed the feeling of another person sleeping beside her.


After a few seconds of him getting comfortable, he turned around and faced the other way, pulling the blankets cozily over his shirtless torso. Did he not want to be with her? After everything he professed at her door?


She inhaled and held her breath before scooting over and draping her arm over his body, pressing her chest to his back under the comforter. He jumped at the contact of her skin upon his- it wasn't long before he turned over and hugged her close.


He breathed in the smell of her hair- jasmine once again- and traced circles into her back with his thumb. They lay in silence, enjoying the fact that they were there in each other's presence.


Harry kissed the top of her crown, then her forehead, then her nose, and finally left a lingering reminder of himself on her lips. It was becoming more apparent that kisses were worth so much more than either of them cared to admit.


"I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, caressing her with his lips a thousand times over to try and repent for his actions. He found her right wrist, the one he had bruised, under the covers and gently massaged it. He brought her arm up to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand.


Carissa pulled the sheets over their heads and nuzzled into the swallows on his chest, littering them with affection. He let a soft sigh fall from his mouth and ran his hand through her soft hair. They were adults on the skin, and children from within.


"Why don't you hate me?" he asked himself aloud, looking her in the eyes. They could barely make each other out in the dim light that penetrated through the blanket, but he was certain he could see the hazel behind her droopy lids.


"I do," she grumbled. She didn't know how apparent it was that she was lying.


"I'll have to change that, won't I?"


He kissed her again, then trailed his lips from her mouth down her jaw, past her collar and paused at the small valley between her breasts. Carissa pulled her lower lip between her teeth in anticipation as he shifted the blanket off of them so she could watch. He rid her of her top and left her shirtless, continuing on to take her shorts off too. He slid her panties down her silky legs and embraced the length of them with his hand, causing her to shiver. He pressed his lips to her inner thighs and slowly inched his way up the soft skin. She bucked her hips impatiently- she wanted him more than anything- but he grew dominant and held her down.


"Let me make it up to you, princess."

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