AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Butterflies beat around in my stomach as a cruel smirk spreads onto his lips. “Because you need punishing, malishka.”
“Punishing for what?” I ask, knowing I have done nothing wrong.
He bites my lip again, making the sore skin bleed. And then he licks it like a hungry animal desperate for a taste of its prey. “You need punishing for being a dirty little pain slut who can’t help but get aroused every time I whip you.”
“You’ve only whipped me once,” I point out.
His eyes narrow. “Twice if you include ninth grade.”
How the hell does he remember that?
“You remember punishing me that day?” I clarify.
His smirk widens. “Of course, I could hardly think of anything else but the dirty girl who rubs her thighs together while being subjected to pain.”
Heat slams into me as I break his gaze.
He puts me on my feet and then lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. “Don’t be ashamed. It’s natural, malishka.” And then he moves his lips to my shoulder and plants soft kisses along it until he reaches the juncture between my neck, sinking his teeth hard into my skin. He yanks my blouse off of me and chucks it onto the floor.
I moan, unable to understand why the pain is so pleasurable. He moves higher, biting my neck like an animal.
“We are going to try something today, something that will either send you running for the hills, or you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.” There’s a strange tone in his voice that makes my stomach knot.
“What exactly are we going to try?”
“Knife play,” he murmurs into my ear, before biting it.
I swallow hard. “What exactly is that?”
“I play with you with my knife.” His voice is deep and husky and sensual. “Cutting your skin just a little and playing with your blood.” It turns more raspy. “Painting a masterpiece on your beautiful skin with it.”
That took a turn toward true depravity far faster than I expected. In fact, I couldn’t have imagined that was what he was going to say, not in my wildest dreams. And yet I remember the pure delight in his eyes when he saw he’d broken my skin with his whip. The way he had tasted my blood like a savage animal.
I stare at him blankly for a short while and can see the impatience in his expression as he frowns at me. The fact is, what he’s talking about should be repulsive and yet it gives me a thrill. A sick thrill that makes little sense as I nod my head before I can rethink it. “Okay.”
His shoulders relax slightly in relief as he yanks me against him, kissing me deeply. The way he kisses me is savage, as if he’s trying to devour me from the inside out, just like the monster he warned me he is.
I slide my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as my need for him deepens.
He groans, grabbing my wrists forcefully and pushing them both behind my back. “What did I tell you?”
I swallow. “I can’t do anything without your permission.”
“Exactly.”
The dominant tone of his voice makes my thighs clench. “Sorry, sir.”
“It’s time for me to find out what beautiful artwork you will make, malishka.” He kisses me quickly once more before leaving me standing half naked in the dungeon as he walks toward the wall where his implements are hanging.
The thought of allowing him to cut me sends a shiver down my spine. I recall the rumors that went around three years ago about a student walking in on him and a teaching assistant having sex in this basement while he cut her. It was rumored the student was traumatized by what she witnessed, but I never knew whether to believe it. Too often rumors get blown out of proportion or exaggerated, but I’m convinced now that it was indeed true.
Gavril Nitkin is obsessed with making me bleed. The way his eyes lit up as he spread my blood on his fingers and licked it off has forever been imprinted in my mind.
His returning footsteps pull me out of a daze, and my heart rate speeds up erratically when I see the large serrated knife in his hand. “Sir, I’m not sure—”
“No backing out now, Camilla.” Those hazel eyes I always found so alluring appear almost demonic in the dim light of the basement. “You’ve made it clear what you want.” He tilts his head to the side. “I won’t hurt you, at least not too bad.”
As he gets closer, my stomach churns like the inside of the washer on the highest spin setting. It feels like I’m going to be sick and yet I can’t even move an inch. Even as he gets closer, I’m frozen to the spot, as if I’m caught in a spider’s web, entirely immobilized.
