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I run my fingers up his sides, pretending to trace the lines of the tattoos on his chest. My hands drift closer to his waist, and I let one of them dart over his abs so that he doesn’t realize where the other one is going.
He shivers. “What do you think, beauty?”
“You’re so strong,” I whisper.
I can tell he loves the compliments, and I couldn’t be happier.
With my right hand, I feel for the knife handle.
It’s stuck behind the sheath. The button to the sheath is snapped shut, and I need to unsnap it.
I tilt my hips, grinding them up against his erection.
He grunts, and bears down.
As he does, my fingers pick at the metal snap. When I feel it’s about to go, I moan.
The noise covers up the sound of the metal opening.
“Beauty, you’re so fine,” he mutters in my ear. His disgusting tongue licks at my neck, and I arch into it, pretending to enjoy his touch.
Pretending I don’t want to kill him.
I pull backward, pretending to kiss the center of his chest.
I grab the knife slowly, hoping he’ll focus on where my breath is trailing over his chest, and not on the lightness at his side.
It works.
The knife is cold in my hand. It’s sharp too. I don’t really care about cutting myself on it, because if this goes the way that I want it to, a little cut is the least of my worries.
Step three.
Now, I need some room to maneuver.
I need to get out from underneath him, because if I stab him from this angle, he’s going to be in a position to either fall on me or use his hands to strangle me.
I tuck the knife underneath my back, arching my breasts up. His eyes glue to them, and I know that he can see my nipples through the thin fabric.
My heart is pounding. I hope that he thinks it’s from excitement.
And not from absolute and total terror.
“If I need to forget… him,” I say, biting my lip and looking up at him through my lashes. “We should do something I never did with him.”
His eyes flare with lust. “Oh? And what’s that then?”
“I was never on top.”
He laughs. “Oh, I see. You want to pretend to be in charge then?”
“Yes. But only pretend,” I add in a ridiculously childish rush.
“Aye. Only pretend. Well, you wait here,” he says.
I smile at him.
He climbs off me, and I see his hand go to his belt.
