Alfie picks up the side of my panties, pulling the lace away from my skin, and uses the knife to slice through the material. He repeats this on the other side before he’s throwing the now-destroyed panties over a shoulder.
“I think right here….” Alfie runs his finger tips over a spot just above my hip bone.
“For what?”
“My mark,” he says.
Before I can protest, he’s pressing the tip of the knife against my skin, hard enough to draw a little bit of blood. He makes a small cut, leans over, and runs his tongue over it. Licking up the blood. A twinge of pain and a lot of pleasure course through my body.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he says while making another slice above my hip. Again he leans down and licks my skin.
I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter. The sensations almost too much. Alfie’s body between my legs is holding them open, and then he cuts me again, and I moan.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he tells me.
He repeats the process. The knife drops onto the floor. And he buries his face in my pussy, his tongue swirling around my clit and that’s all it takes for me to soar. I was so worked up that the moment his tongue touched me, pleasure exploded through my body.
Alfie kisses his way up my torso. When he reaches my mouth, he hovers above me. “You really are my good girl, Molly. And now, everyone will know who you belong to,” he says.
I’m still blissed out from my orgasm. His words don’t even register before he’s kissing me. My arms wrap around his neck as I hold him closer. I want more. I always want more.
My hands move over his shoulders, down his chest, along those abs I fucking love until they reach his belt. I undo it fast and then his pants. Reaching in, I wrap my hand around his cock. It really is impressive—of course, I wouldn’t admit that to him. The man does not need his ego stroked. What I will stroke is his cock and that’s exactly what I do.
My fist runs up and down, collecting the precum from the tip on my thumb before spreading it all over his shaft. I’m ready for him to bury himself inside me.
But then it hits me. He marked me.
Pushing at his shoulders, I shove him onto his back and climb on top of him. Alfie smirks as he reaches behind me and flicks my bra undone. I look down at where he was cutting me.
“Your initials,” I say. “You put your initials on me.”
“I did warn you you’d regret telling me I could,” he says unapologetically.
“I like it.”
“Oh, I know you did.” He chuckles.
“But I think it’s only fair that I get to mark you,” I tell him
Leaning down, I press a kiss against his right pec, before moving to the left one and doing the same thing. I kiss my way over his abs, shift on the bed, and settle myself between his legs. Twisting around, I spot the knife on the floor and bend over to reach for it.
“What are you planning to do with that, Molly?” Alfie asks, as if he finds me holding a knife funny.
“I’m going to mark you,” I tell him, pressing the tip of the knife to the skin right above his hip bone, the same spot he marked me.
“You’re going to brand me?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.” I hold the knife to his skin, pressing in a little but I have no idea how much pressure I need to put on it. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him.
Alfie wraps his hand around mine and guides the knife deeper into his skin, dragging it down. He lifts it and starts again until the letter M can be seen under the quickly-pooling blood. Unlike him, I do not have a thirst for it and have no intentions of licking his wound. He then presses the knife into his skin again and creates a circle right next to the letter M.
“Does it hurt?” I ask. He’s bleeding a lot more than I did. “Why are you bleeding so much?”
“I dug deeper. I wanted to make sure it scars,” he says, taking the knife from my hand. He tosses it to the floor. Then I’m suddenly underneath him again and he’s straddling my legs. His hand reaches into his back pocket and he pulls out a condom.
