"No talking." His voice is chilly and commanding and I snap my mouth shut.
The first touch isn't the warmth of his hand, or his lips. It's something chilly, sharpened to a point. Averysharp point, I can tell from how Roman handles it with such delicacy. I've seen how he handled his knives like that before.
One point, then another and another, five sharp points pressed against my back. Something on his fingers? Like… claws?
Roman draws his hand very slowly down my spine and the sensation of an itch being scratched hits me withsuchrelief, like my body has been waiting for this. The sharp points trail over my ass, then my left leg, moving to come up the right one. My skin is twitching, the feel of the luxurious scratch is sogood,though the logical alarm of having something so deadly sharp against my skin mutes it a bit.
As the claws draw closer to my center, my breath hitches. He wouldn't. Not there.
"You're holding your breath, sweet Violet. Be good and breathe for me. I won't hurt you."
Not hurt me much,I think.
Just as the swelling lips of my center are prepared for the feel of the sharp points, he skirts it, circling my ass again, trailing down my arms as I shiver, goosebumps sprouting, even in the heat from the fire.
My ankles are abruptly released and I stifle a shriek as Roman flips me over onto my back, chaining my ankles again and then pushing the lower half of the table in two, spreading my legs as he steps between them, pressing his hard dick against me.
"Look at you," he says. "Laid out in front of me like a feast, such a sweet sacrifice."
I can feel those razor-sharp tips on both legs now, running down the delicate skin of my inner thighs. He's put on another set of claws. I wonder what they look like. Are they long and terrifying, like Wolverine's? I can't stop the shiver that goes through me and Roman slaps the inside of my thigh sharply. I yelp.
"Don't move," he says sternly, sounding slightly disappointed with me.
"It's hard not to when you have ten talons running down your body," I wheeze.
"Would you like to see?" His voice is darker and I can hear the slightest tinge of a Russian accent creeping in.
"Y- Yes?"
He chuckles darkly. "You don't sound certain."
"Yes,please,"I moan.
One of those points hooks delicately under my blindfold and shreds it away like paper. Roman is standing between my legs, naked, his cock hard and thick against his abdomen and on each fingertip, a razor-sharp claw. They glitter in the light from the fire and I suck in my breath again. These claws could surely slice through my skin as quickly as they did that silk blindfold. He's watching me, the way my chest is heaving.
"Are you afraid,Dushistaya fialka?"
"Yes." I can't lie, he can see it. My hands tighten to fists in the manacles twisted over my head, as he lifts the claws very carefully, letting me see them. He runs them along the tender underside of my arms, bound and helpless. My gaze follows their movement as they slide down the sides of my breasts and circle them.
It could be the tiniest twitch, and one of those could cut into my nipple.
I wonder what it would feel like.
"Do you want to know?" I think Roman must be psychic until I realize I'd said that out loud. "Just the lightest touch," he whispers diabolically. He slips a pillow under my head, elevating it so I can see more clearly, and he circles my breasts again, sweeping over my stomach and back up, resting delicately on my chest until the claw on his index finger makes the slightest scratch on my nipple and I gasp.
There's a bright bead of blood welling up and with a growl, Roman fastens his mouth around my nipple. His hot tongue circles me.
He's licking my blood.
This should horrify me, but instead, my hips lift again, my thighs widening needily as he pulls back and kisses me so that I can taste it, like bright pennies against my tongue.
"So beautiful, so brave," he says, those terrifying talons moving down again, sliding in the thin crease between my thigh and my pussy. Every muscle turns to stone.
Not there. They could do so much damage not there. Why am I not screaming "Amber"?
Because every inch of my skin is excruciatingly sensitive. Every stroke of the claws awakens something inside me. He cut me and I liked it. Because I amsowet.
Roman runs the claws with utter delicacy between my lips, lightly circling my hole, and then up to circle my clitoris, his gaze fixed on mine. His head is tilted down and he looks like a wolf, gazing at me with his green eyes.
