Page 57 of Devour

I don’t have an answer because I can’t think when he’s pressed against me with my hands bound. I’m already wet for him.

He bends me forward over the arm of the leather chair near the window. My cheek hits the cushion, and my hands rest against the small of my back. He kicks my feet apart with his boot. Then he leans down and sucks one of the bite marks from the collection he’s made on my neck.

“This is what happens next.” His voice is low and right against my ear. “Someone takes your weapon, gets your hands behind you, and you’re done. Try to break free from me, baby.”

I twist hard against the belt and try to wrench my arms apart. The leather digs into my wrists and doesn’t give. I buck my hips back into him, trying to throw him off balance, but he doesn’t move. He weighs twice what I do, and he’s got me pinned at the perfect angle where my legs have no leverage.

“You can do better than that, little heathen. Fight. Fight me like you don’t want my fucking dick. Make me take it from you.”

For a moment, I’m back in those woods when that bastard had me pinned. I’m back in my fucking nightmares where I can’t fucking move. I never want to feel helpless like that. But my body knows that this is Axl. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t let this man do to me. He’s trained me to be his good little whore.

I still try to fight. I kick my legs as much as I can and shift my torso, but it’s no use. He has me fully pinned.

“That’s what I thought.” He grips the back of my neck and presses my face harder into the cushion. “You can’t get free. You can’t beat me. If someone had you like this, they’d be able to do whatever they wanted to my pussy. And that can’t fucking happen.”

He drags my shorts down my thighs with one hand. The air hits my bare skin, and I’m so wet it’s embarrassing. It’s been two weeks of this man and the things he does to my body, and I still can’t get enough.

The knife handle presses between my legs. It’s not the blade. He’s using the grip, and he pushes it inside me, making me moan into the chair.

“You know I won’t hesitate to kill any dumb fuck who even thinks about touching what’s mine.” He works it deeper, fucking me with my knife, and my teeth sink into the leather cushion. “And no one else better make my little heathen this wet.”

My hips push back on their own, and a sound comes out of my mouth that has nothing to do with fear. He pulls the handle out slowly, pushes it back in harder, and my fingers curl into fists behind my back.

“Look at you.” He licks along the lobe of my ear. “Fucking yourself on your own knife like a greedy little slut.”

He pulls the handle out of me and brings it to my lips. “Clean it.”

I open my mouth, tears stinging my eyes, and he slides the handle across my tongue. I taste myself on the textured grip, and his fingers tighten in my hair while he watches me lick it clean. I suck it into my mouth as he uses his fingers to play with my pussy.

“Good girl.” He pulls it away, and I hear his zipper. His cock is fucking me in one thrust that drives my hips into the arm of the chair hard enough to hurt.

He grabs my bound wrists with one hand and uses them to pull me back onto him. The angle is so deep my vision blurs, and the piercings make everything more intense. I can’t move my body. I can’t do anything but take it.

Then Axl presses the blade to my throat. I gasp as I fight to keep myself from being pushed harder into it and letting it cut my skin.

The sharp edge is pressed just under my jaw while he fucks me. He doesn’t take it easy on me, and I’m far too aware of the knife at my throat.

“This is why we practice.” His breath is on my neck, thrusting harder. “Because this is what fucking happens when you can’t protect yourself.”

He drives into me, taking out every bit of aggression he’s ever had and using my pussy to do it. The knife is too tight against my throat, and his cock is too deep. Every thrust grinds the piercings against the spot that makes my legs shake. My wrists burn against the belt, and my shoulders ache. But none of that matters as my orgasm builds, tears welling in my eyes.

“Are you going to come with a knife to your throat, baby?” He slows down just enough to make me desperate for him. “That’s my fucking girl.”

“Axl, please—”

“Please what?” He pulls almost all the way out and holds. The knife is still almost cutting into my skin. My neck stings. But all I can think about is how bad I need to come. “Are you going to beg for your life, little heathen.”

“Fuck me.” I push my hips back, but I can’t move enough to take what I want. “Stop playing with me and just fuck me.”

He slams back into me so hard the chair hits the wall. His pace is brutal, and the knife stays pressed against my throat. “Who owns this cunt?”

“You do,” I moan, the tears running down my cheeks.

“So I decide when you come. And you haven’t fucking earned it yet.”

He brings me to the edge of my orgasm three more times. Each time I’m right there with my thighs trembling and my breath gone, he slows down until I’m pulling against the belt so hard my wrists are raw.

“Axl, I can’t take it. I need to come. Cut me if that’s what you need.”