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She flushed at her own brazenness. But she wanted it too much to retract. “Yes, please.”
“Tell me what you want. Precisely,” he commanded, fire in his eyes.
“I want—” Her voice came out as a croak. Clearing her throat, she repeated, “I want more intensity. I want…” her voice trailed to a whisper. Oh, my god, was she really going to say it aloud?
She could barely hear her own voice over the pounding of her heart. “I want to be cut, Sir. To bleed.”
His pupils visibly dilated, his tongue appearing for a moment on his full lower lip. “Then, you shall have what you want.”
Moving down along the table, he flipped the knife over and dragged the sharp side of the blade in a small horizontal line over the top of her right thigh. She felt a cold burn, followed by intense heat. She forgot to breathe as she stared up at the reflection. A thin line about one inch long of crimson blood had appeared on her skin.
Leaning over her, Master Damon calmly, carefully drew the blade across her other thigh, painting a symmetrical bloody line on her skin. She couldn’t look away as he added a second cut, and a third, to each thigh. The burning pain of each small wound was offset by a crazy rush of endorphins crashing through her bloodstream. If she hadn’t been bound to the table, she felt as if she might float to the ceiling.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” she heard herself chanting as she stared in horrified fascination at the impossibly bright red blood beading on her flesh.
“Shh. You’re doing beautifully, Ellen. I’m so proud of you.”
As he spoke, he placed his free hand over her spread cunt. He rubbed her throbbing clit gently and slid a finger inside her. A gush of moisture pulsed through her as her cunt spasmed. She was stunned to realize she was teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Just another touch, another stroke and—
Master Damon removed his hand, his smile knowing. “Dirty, delicious girl,” he murmured. “You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”
“Yes, please,” she begged.
He smiled a sadist’s smile. “We’ll see.”
He moved so his knife was poised above her chest. His face was a mask of concentration. Ellen lifted her head to better see what he was doing. Despite her complete trust in Master Damon, she squeaked in terror as he scraped the burning tip of the blade in a circle around her right nipple.
Leaning over her, he did the same around her left nipple. Blood welled along the circles and dripped along the sides of her breasts. Setting down the knife, Master Damon dragged his finger lightly over one of the wounds.
His eyes fixed on hers, he sucked her blood from his finger. He traced the wound again, and then daubed her lips. Instinctively, Ellen licked the coppery blood away as they stared at one another.
Her heart was booming. Despite the fact she was lying down, she felt dizzy and lightheaded. She held her breath as he dipped his head over her breast. She sighed with pleasure as his lips closed around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth. She wanted to cry when he pulled his mouth away.
Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand again cupped her sex. This time, he didn’t stop as he ground his palm against her clit, two fingers easing into her sopping cunt. His mouth closed over her second nipple as he rubbed her swollen labia and throbbing clit.
Ellen gasped and moaned, the pleasure of his touch blending with the burning pain of the small wounds on her thighs and at her breasts. Within seconds, she was ready to come.
“Please,” she managed, barely able to get the words out. “May I come, Sir?”
“Yes,” he growled. “You may.”
Bucking against her restraints, Ellen gave herself over to perhaps the most powerful orgasm of her life. It went on and on, holding her in its thrall until every last ounce of strength was zapped from her body. Finally, utterly spent, she went limp, her head lolling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut, her mouth slack.
She was vaguely aware as he ministered to her cuts, gently washing them with warm water, patting them dry and then applying salve and Band-Aids. Through it all, she floated on a lovely cloud of bliss, a deep and utter sense of peace pervading her spirit.
“I love you,” she whispered, not even caring if he heard.
Chapter 21
The next morning, Damon drifted pleasantly between sleep and wakefulness. Ellen had been amazing during the edge play. She’d worked past her fears to truly embrace the experience. He’d felt like a god, taking her to such an intense place with both the blood play and her resulting orgasm.
“I love you.”
Had she really said those words? Or had his own stupid heart heard what it wanted to hear?
Either way, this was dangerous territory.
Chill, he ordered himself. Even if she had whispered those words, he was overreacting. BDSM relationships, however brief, packed so much intensity into a short timeframe that it was easy to confuse those powerful, sometimes euphoric feelings with love.
