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“I’m not sure about this,” I say, despite knowing deep down there’s a part of me that wants to experience this, but I can’t deny that I fear the man in front of me, too. Because he’s not a man, he’s a monster. The kind that thrives off pain and suffering.
He reaches for me and slides a firm hand around my throat. “You can’t tell me okay one minute and then back out, malishka.” He squeezes forcefully. “That’s not how this works.”
I struggle to draw enough air into my lungs as he squeezes my throat like he’s trying to kill me.
The darkness in his eyes makes me shudder as he finally releases his grip. “Be a good girl and turn around for me.”
Coldness spreads through my veins as I realize that coming down into a basement where no one can hear you scream with a monster is probably a terrible idea. I turn my back to him as instructed, as I can’t seem to help myself from obeying his orders. It’s crazy, considering I know how dangerous he is and what he’s going to do to me.
He grabs my waist and moves his hand to the buttons on the front of my skirt, unfastening them until the fabric drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my matching white bra and thong. The way he touches my bare skin sends goosebumps rising over every inch of exposed skin. And then his fingers hook into the catch on the back of the bra, unfastening it and yanking it from me before I realize what he’s doing.
“Turn around,” he orders.
Anxiously, I bring my arms up to my chest, as no man has ever seen me this naked before. Being so exposed to a man like Gavril Nitkin makes me more nervous than I’ve ever been in my eighteen years of life. And yet, I can’t disobey his orders, as if I’m programmed to do everything he says.
I swallow hard and turn around.
He instantly grabs my wrists and yanks my arms down, exposing me to him entirely. Those beautiful hazel eyes dilate as they fix on my breasts, gazing at them as if they’re a masterpiece in the louvre. It makes me feel more desired than I’ve ever felt and yet my stomach churns as my eyes fix on the blade he’s forced into his belt.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmurs in a deep and husky tone.
Heat blazes through my cheeks as I stand almost entirely naked in front of him. And then he reaches up and pinches my right nipple, making me moan. The exquisite mix of pain and pleasure making me ache deep within.
“You’re a perfect canvas to paint a masterpiece on,” he says, sounding almost absent or far away.
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
Gavril tears his eyes from my body and meets my gaze, and the look in them makes me shudder. It’s dark and sadistic as he squeezes my left nipple even harder, making me yelp in surprise. “Cutting is an art form.” His other hand digs into my right hip as he yanks me forward so I can feel the cold metal of the blade in his belt pressing into my skin. “Blood is my paint and skin is my canvas, Camilla. And I’ve never seen a more beautiful canvas.”
I search his eyes and realize he’s utterly serious. A silver of fear travels through my veins, lodging itself deep in my heart as I wonder why Professor Nitkin is the way he is. Only now do I realize that this man truly is not a man, but a beast. He’d warned me of such, but I didn’t believe him until now, until he showed me his thirst for blood, pain and carnage.
He releases my left nipple and reaches for the knife in the belt of his trousers, pressing it gently between my breasts and dragging the serrated edge downward lightly against my skin, only leaving a red graze. It’s barely painful, making me needier than ever before as he keeps his eyes on the knife and the marks he leaves on my skin—his canvas.
The force increases as he draws it lower, past my rib cage and down just above my belly button. I glance down, noticing that while he hasn’t cut my skin, the marks are redder. My breathing labors as he draws lower again, heading right toward my panties.
Nitkin pauses, meeting my gaze and tilting his head to one side. “I can sense you’re getting excited and I haven’t even broken skin yet.”
There’s a demonic look to his light eyes in this dark dungeon as he watches my face with too much intensity, as if he’s trying to see right through me and into my soul.
The pressure on the knife increases and I feel my heart race at a thousand miles an hour in anticipation. And then he flicks his wrist slightly, cutting through my skin just above the waistband of my white panties.
“Beautiful.” Gavril can’t take his eyes off the small incision he’s made and the droplets of blood running into the fabric and staining it. He hooks the knife into my panties and slowly cuts them away from my body, making me hotter than I’ve ever felt.
Even though this man has licked me to climax before, he’s never seen me so naked. As the tatters of my panties drop to the floor, I know I’ve never felt more vulnerable.
A soft rumble rises from his chest as his eyes dip between my thighs, making my body catch on fire.
“Sir, are you—”
He grabs my throat hard, cutting off my question before I have the chance to finish. “No questions.” There’s a darkness in his expression, one that scares me right to the core.
He drags the sharp edge of the knife past the cut in my skin in my lower abdomen and moves it downward, stopping just above my clit.
I draw in a sharp inhale of oxygen as the anticipation is killing me. This man is unpredictable and clearly a little insane, and I’m standing here entirely at his mercy. Naked, vulnerable and yet needier than I’ve ever been.
His eyes flash with fire as he drags the knife lower, the serrated edge grazing against my clit.
I shudder, as I’ve never felt so sensitive before in all my life. My nipples are harder than stone as he drags it lower and then angles the tip inside of me. It feels like my heart stops beating a moment as I wonder how far he’d take this. Our eyes are locked together, and he’s watching me with a sadistic glee that makes my stomach churn.
