Page 117 of Make You Mine

That means the knife⁠—

I shake my head, attempting to lower my gaze, only to be forced to stay put.

“Eyes up here, Madelyn.”

He won’t let me.

“W-what are you doing?”

My breath quickens, and my hips buck involuntarily against the object he’s holding.

“What do you mean?” He laughs. “I’m making my wife feel good.”

“With what?”

He tilts his head, stopping mid-thrust. “With your favorite thing in the whole world.”

I swallow.

“Danger.”

My pussy clenches around it as the words leave his mouth.

“It’s the knife.”

“Bingo,” he says. “Well, the handle. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my wife. I’m a gentleman.”

Now that I am aware, he loosens up his grip a bit, and I manage to dart my gaze down.

I stare at the handle inserted between my folds, fluids dripping down my thighs with every single push.

It’s hot, and I throb even more; the waves of pleasure it sends through me are electric.

Then, I catch sight of his hand, of the blade digging into his wrapped palm. A lump forms in my throat. That must hurt like a bitch. Is it cutting through his skin?

“Y-your palm,” I say.

“Oh. This?” He pushes the handle deeper into me, making me moan louder, pressing the blade into his skin even more. “I can handle a little pain.” Thrust. “Danger feels good, doesn’t it?”

It does. It feels so good that I’m really getting into this played-out fantasy.

He positions the knife at an angle in which he can run his thumb across my clit, giving me the most delicious stroke as he ruins me. Going back and forth with the handle playing dildo, and his thumb adding a little extra pressure.

Thrust and rub, thrust and rub. My orgasm is curling in the pit of my stomach.

“Y-yes.” I moan. “Faster. I’m almost there, I⁠—”

He stops moving. The knife is still filling me up, but it’s not enough. The sensation dwells.

I need this. I want to be touched so bad.

My pussy is swelling with arousal.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan. “Don’t stop.”

“You’ll come when I tell you to come,” he says. “Now, beg me to let you come with my knife.”

I don’t want to. I won’t. I shake my head.