Page 46 of Watching Her

Penelope had a calming effect when few things ever did.

I flicked on a single light and headed to the bar nestled in the corner. Surveillance had been a practice for years, but none had provided me with such joy in studying how a woman worked. Simple tasks.

With the drink in my hand, I settled into my chair and flicked on the large screen. She was there, leaning over her computer with her brow furrowed and sucking on her bottom lip. I’d come to realize when she was completely frustrated with a task, her body language expressed what she rarely did vocally.

I took a gulp while wondering if she had any idea a monster was sitting in a chair only miles way, enjoying every subtle move.

Knowing her, she’d find a way to retaliate. What I wouldn’t give to encourage her to do so.

I studied her through the lens of my webcam, treating her face like a piece of art I was trying to memorize. The lighting in her room was poor, casting deep shadows under her cheekbones, but it only made her features look more dramatic, more defined. She was looking down, reading something, her eyelashes casting long shadows. It was a view I hadn’t gotten in person—this quiet, unguarded version of her. I caught myself holding my breath, terrified that a sudden movement on my end would break her concentration and rob me of the moment.

Even though that was impossible.

She threw her head back, pushing away from her desk and leaning her head against the chair. As she swiveled it back and forth, I could almost see her mind spinning with thoughts and ideas.

The camera didn’t do her justice, but I couldn’t look away. Her face was framed by the harsh glow of her laptop, turning her skin a soft, ethereal porcelain. Every time she laughed, the video grain blurred slightly, as if the software itself couldn’t handle her energy. I found myself tracing the curve of her jawline with my eyes, wishing I could reach through the glass to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek. She was twenty miles away, but looking at her eyes on my screen, the distance felt like a lie.

As if I could merely beckon her with a single finger, knowing exactly how she’d react.

She’d drop to her knees, longing to please me.

Music played through unseen speakers, soft and mellow while working. Tonight it didn’t seem appropriate since her mind was on something else entirely.

What was she looking at? Seconds later, I sat up in my seat.

I quickly zoomed in, realizing the camera I’d added didn’t have a wide enough lens for me to see the entire room. However, something in the corner caught my eye. I’d be damned. She’d had the painting placed in her office.

Well, well.

She glanced toward the open office door, a sinful smile crossing her face.

“What are you thinking, sweet Penelope? Perhaps wondering what it will be like when I thrust my cock into your tight pussy?” My words were little more than a husky whisper.

Her laugh was deeper, throatier than I was used to hearing. Seconds later, she stood and I was rewarded with realizing she was wearing a gorgeous lacy pink thong. There was definitely a little bad girl inside the woman.

A bad girl who needed taming.

Without any hesitation, she ripped off her tank top, revealing her perfect voluptuous breasts. Her fingers gripped the material briefly before tossing it aside. My aching dick was already tenting the thick towel.

I found myself holding my breath from anticipation, even sitting on the edge of my seat. When she slipped her long fingers under the thin elastic of her thong, my balls tightened.

She didn’t look down, didn’t act embarrassed as she slid the panties down her legs, kicking out of them.

I’d resisted installing cameras in her private areas, almost instantly regretting I’d found some sense of decency.

Until now.

There was something extremely filthy, entirely sinful about witnessing her stunning naked body from a distance. While it should drive me crazy, seeing her this was the perfect epitome of viewing her as a work of art.

Her breasts would fit perfectly in my large hands. I envisioned being able to squeeze them for the first time.

As I brought the glass to my lips, I savored the scent of scotch filtering into my nose while longing to inhale the sweet fragrance of her desire.

She licked her lips and leaned over her computer. What was she doing? Ah, changing the music.

As soon as a livelier, more seductive song began to play, I could see a shift in her personality. She was becoming someone else, a woman with nothing else on her mind but seduction.

She swayed her hips, taking several deep breaths while brushing her fingertips down the side of her neck. Her breathing already irregular, she crawled them between her breasts, stifling a giggle while she rolled the tip of one around her nipple.