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“Are you ready? Count slowly to three.”
When she reaches two, I slash her skin. A quick, shallow cut that makes her cry out. Her flesh is pink for a moment, and then blood wells up. I groan and put the scalpel on the table, watching her, mesmerized, as I pull off my T-shirt and jeans. As the first rivulet of blood runs down her leg, I grasp the base of my cock and sink into her wet pussy.
I hold her throat and turn her head so I can kiss her as we fuck. “Aren’t you good for me, princess? I get to make you bleed and knock you up at the same time. How does a devil like me get into heaven?”
I reach down to her cut and drag my fingers up her thigh, and then hold my bloody fingers up in front of her face.
“Or are you my pretty angel I’ve dragged down to hell?”
With red, sticky fingers, I find her clit and rub her in fast circles while I fuck her slowly. She keeps her back arched and her head tipped back so I can kiss her.
“If I’m your angel, then hell feels pretty good.”
I smile against her lips. My balls are aching and I want to fuck her fast, but now that I’ve got her like this with no one to interrupt us, I don’t want to stop.
“Rub your clit for me. I need both hands for this.” I pull out of her and touch the point of the scalpel against her thigh again, right next to the first cut. “Hold still, princess. You don’t want me to mess this up.”
With the blade at the ready, I listen to her panting and soft moans as she brings herself to orgasm, and just as it starts to pass, I slash her with the scalpel. She breathes in sharply, her eyes wide.
“Can you feel your blood dripping down your legs?”
Chiara nods, still panting.
“One more, princess, a little longer this time. Be a good girl and hold still.”
Just one more cut. Don’t get greedy.
Savoring the moment, I position the scalpel carefully, and cut her slowly, blood beading up around the sharp metal. Chiara’s head bows and she whimpers.
I groan and toss the scalpel onto the table. When I thrust into her, I feel her wet blood on my own thigh. I can’t hold back now and I thrust into her deep and fast, one hand braced against the metal table and another fisting in her hair, keeping her in place.
“How’s that, princess? You like being a good girl for your doctor?”
Chiara’s breathing hard, her eyes closed in ecstasy, and she nods. I pull out for a moment, drag my cock through the blood on her leg and then shove myself back into her.
“Your ripe little pussy is going to be full of my cum, and I’m going to fuck it deeper to make sure I’m the one who breeds you.”
I’m brimming with the need to come. Pleasure surges through me and races from my balls to the head of my cock. I grab one of her thighs and hook it up so her knee is on the table and she’s spread wide. I keep thrusting even once I’m finished, getting my cum as deep as I can.
I pull out and admire the sight of the blood dripping down her legs and my cum leaking out of her swollen pussy. With the flat of my hand, I smack her ass once, and smile as an exultant feeling spreads through my chest. That should do it, but I’ve got three days to fuck her to make sure.
I gather Chiara to me and press my lips to the side of her throat one. “Who had sex with you last?”
Chiara pushes her hair off her face and takes a deep breath. “Ummm…Vinicius. Last night.”
Last night she might have been fertile. It would be just like Vinicius to sneak in ahead of me. “We’ll know eventually. If the baby has hazel eyes, it’s his, and if it has blue eyes, it’s mine.”
She shoots me an amused look. “If I am pregnant, and that’s a big if, it could be any of yours. Counting days and taking temperatures is all well and good, but my body isn’t programmable like a computer. It could just as easily be one of the other’s babies.”
Yeah, we’ll see.
“Come with me and I’ll patch you up, princess.” The cuts I made in her flesh are already clotting. I grab what I need and take her upstairs, laying her on her side on the sofa. Carefully, I clean the cuts and apply antiseptic. She hisses in pain as the cold, stinging alcohol cleanses her wounds. I work slowly but thoroughly, murmuring to her as I go.
“You’re still playing doctor, aren’t you?” she asks, head pillowed on a sofa cushion as I cover the cuts with gauze.
A smile spreads over my face. “I am. This is how I play doctor. I cut you and bleed you, and then I’m so fucking nice to you when I clean you up after.”
“Will I have scars?”
