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I flung the knife in the air and caught the blade. My grip was still loose, but the sharp blade already scratched at my skin. My calluses from fighting and Parkour didn’t give in easily, but today, they would.
“This is insane,” Rory whispered, but she hadn’t moved. If she was frozen from shock or anticipation was also in the mix, it was hard to tell. She only watched me with utter shock. I licked over her thigh, then I raised the intricate leather handle of my knife to her pussy. “This is calf leather. It’s soft, and the embossing will massage your inner walls. It’s smaller than my cock, so it’ll be perfect.” I slid the round handle end over Rory’s opening, coating it with her juices before I parted her with it and rubbed it over her clit.
Rory was frozen as she watched. I rubbed round and round over her clit, watching her face, loving the lust and fear there. Fear not of me. Fear of what I made her desire. Fear of the forbidden. But fuck, the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.
“I’m taking you to hell with me, Rory. I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen. Now it’s too late.”
I slid the leather handle lower and pressed it against her opening. There was a hint of resistance before her walls gave in and allowed the first inch inside her pussy.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I watched the pink of Rory’s pussy against the black leather of my knife.
Rory shook her head, still shell-shocked. “You’re bleeding,” she gasped.
I lowered my eyes from her face to my hand gripping the blade. A droplet of blood meandered over my wrist, and the hint of burning told me my knife had cut through the thick layer of my calluses.
“If it hurts you, it should hurt me as well,” I rasped as I moved the handle up and down, still only an inch in.
“That’s insanity,” she whispered. “And it doesn’t even hurt. It just stretches me.”
“Last time, it hurt. Don’t worry about me, Rory. Just relax and feel. Really feel the leather inside you.”
She shook her head but didn’t protest. I pushed a bit deeper and leaned forward to lick her clit. She panted as I circled my knife handle and her sensitive flesh.
I’d buried this blade, and many other blades, in so many people, had relished in their cries, but claiming Rory with my knife handle, giving her pleasure with the very thing that only brought pain to others, and receiving pain through my own blade as I gave her pleasure, that would go down as a highlight in my life.
I would go to hell for this. No doubt.
I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t screaming and running away. Why I was sitting here, watching as Nevio fucked me with his knife.
It shouldn’t feel good. But it did. The way Nevio watched me with rapt attention and pure hunger sent spikes of lust through my body I’d never experienced before.
He brushed the rounded handle along my seam back and forth. “You’re very quiet. I take that as a good sign,” he mused. “Now that your body has handled the first shock, I’m going to fuck you properly with my knife so you bathe my handle and mouth with your lust.”
He gripped the blade harder and pushed the handle farther into me.
“Is that a yes?”
I panted but didn’t reply. I couldn’t agree to this. I couldn’t push him away either. I was lost between my desire to let this happen and my conscience telling me to stop it.
He pushed in slowly until the handle was about halfway inside me and became thicker, then closed his mouth over my clit again. I relaxed as pleasure surged through me from his tongue’s magic work. I loved the soft feel of it, the heat of Nevio’s breath on my pussy. My inner walls were very sensitive from my orgasm, and the softness of the leather soothed and teased them at the same time.
“More,” Nevio murmured, and I hissed as he pushed deeper, my opening stretching around the growing girth of the handle. I hadn’t been penetrated by more than my own finger and Nevio’s tongue and finger since Nevio took my virginity.
My chest clenched with memories of the night and guilt over what was happening now. Nevio’s tongue circled my clit, then stroked along my opening and lower. My eyes rolled back, and lust overrode guilt. I swallowed thickly, as stretching turned to a subtle pain as the handle conquered more of my pussy.
“Rory.”
I lowered my head.
His dark eyes hit me. “Don’t fight the pain. Savor it. Relax. Accept it.”
I tried to do what he said, and when the handle was all the way inside me, I breathed out. Nevio leaned back slightly, his chin shiny with my juices, and watched my pussy. His fist curled around the blade, pressed against my pussy. Nevio uncurled his fingers. They were covered in blood and so was the blade.
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t own up to the reality of it, to how good the leather felt inside me, of how sexy Nevio’s reaction made me feel.
“Damn, Rory, seeing my knife sticking out of your tight pussy makes me horny as fuck. You can hate me all you want.”
My heart pounded in my chest.
