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“And you think that will stop me?”
“What would be happening right now if I didn’t burn it, Archer? What if I read it? Would that knife be plunged into my stomach right now?”
“I guess we won’t ever know, will we?”
His left hand touches the button of my jeans.
He gives it a little tug.
The button opens.
I inch back harder against the rock.
“Mind if I check and see if you’re lying to me?” Archer asks.
“Where do you think I put that envelope?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
“I’m not sure. Pockets…?”
His left hand grabs at my ass and pulls me against him.
I gasp and look up at him.
He stares down at me, his lip curling.
His left hand digs into my right back pocket.
I feel my pussy beginning to melt like an ice cream cone in summer.
I’m officially fucked in the head, by the fact that I’m turned on so much by this.
A man with a knife. A man who wants to kill me.
Yet he’s touching me and I want him to keep going.
Archer’s right hand slides into my left back pocket.
His long and strong fingers dig through my jeans into my ass.
His fingertips move between my cheeks.
Pushing… pressing… circling my…
I thrust forward and gasp. “It’s not up there, Archer.”
He smirks at me. “So you do have limits.”
“Fuck off,” I say.
“Do you really want me to fuck off? Or do you want me to keep… testing you…”
I feel a cool, sharp touch against my stomach.
I look down and Archer has the dull side of the knife blade against my stomach.
Then he slides it down against the top of my panties.
“Should I just cut these panties off you, sweet thing?” Archer growls. “Keep them with me all the time. So if I want to smell you, I can.”
