Page 22 of His Puppet

He’s doing a good job of keeping his expression impassive, but lust is brewing in his eyes, and his breathing gets choppy when I push his jacket aside and smooth my hands down his shirt, landing on his belt.

“If you try to pull something, I’ll know it. You’re not—”

“You already proved that,” I say, slipping a hand onto his belt buckle. “Please, just...” I clear my throat of fake emotion. “Just give me this, okay?”

I bite my lower lip, and his eyes dart there. He nods.

Idiot.

I guide him off the step, and he takes off his suit jacket. He tosses it on the banister then goes to undo his tie.

Working his belt, I slide down to my knees. I unbutton the slacks and am pulling the zipper down when he grabs my hand, eliciting me to look up at him. He isn’t hiding the lust in his expression anymore. It’s on full display.

“If you bite me, I will—”

“I know,” I say, sick of the threats. It’s redundant to threaten someone you’re already taking a soul from. But I get it. He’ll knock my teeth out. He’ll ‘make me regret it.’ My goal isn’t to bite his dick anyway. That won’t help me with the guys upstairs, it’ll only alert them to a problem.

My goal is to get the knife.

And I’m a hell of a lot better pickpocket than he thinks. Every target has a unique awareness of their surroundings and body, that’s what gives each mark a different difficulty level. Buteverytarget is capable of being distracted.

“Please, this is bad enough,” I say. “Just. Just relax, okay? You don’t need to threaten me anymore.”

Blade cups my chin and runs his thumb over my cheek. I don’t know if it’s intimate or if he’s studying a reaction. I close my eyes and lean into it.

His touch suddenly gets rough. He grips my jaw and jerks up. My eyes burst open.

“I want you to keep your hands down at your sides,” he says, using his free hand to shove his pants and boxers down. My face is level with his cock, and I lower my gaze, a difficult task with him straining my neck, to take in his massive length.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

“Open your mouth.”

He eases his grip but keeps his hand on me, the silent threat clear. I face his cock and take a deep, steadying breath before opening my mouth.

He grabs his cock and eases it past my lips, groaning when it’s settled in my mouth. I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose. He tastes like soap, like he’s showered recently. He’s well groomed, so that helps. It isn’t the worst dick I’ve sucked. If I’m being honest, if this were the end of a date and not a shitty bargain in some bunker out in the middle of nowhere, I’d be thrilled to see this fucking prize.

He slides in and out of my mouth, hitting the back of my throat each time, and I moan for the vibration.

I lied. I’ve gotten excellent reviews on this. Way back when, before I figured out I could simply steal from douchebags like Blade, I did some things I’m not proud of for money. I was a starving homeless kid. Desperate times call for desperate measures.Thatis how I know I’d rather die than live a drugged-up whore’s life. Been there. Done that. Minus the drugs and captivity.

He groans and thrusts into me with more force, and I moan again. That seems to loosen the self-control he’s been grasping. He grabs both sides of my head and fucks my mouth, his cock barreling in and out far enough it ignites my gag reflex.

I choke on him, and he slows his strokes just enough for me to get a breath. He’s worked up and breathing heavily. I open my eyes to look up at him. He’s staring down at me, and when our eyes meet, it pushes him over the edge.

Almost time.

I close my eyes then open them after a few seconds. His head is tilted toward the ceiling, and I can’t tell if his eyes are closed or not, but I’m guessing they are.

Now.

“Mmmm,” I moan around his cock and bob my head to match his rhythm. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he’d been intentionally keeping his arm with the knife pulled back, away from me, at first. Now, he’s using it to hold me, but he still lets me rock.

I pull my head back far enough to expose his wrist, and I spot the tip of the knife. It takes nothing, and I meannothingto slip it out of his sleeve without him noticing. I move it to my other hand, reach around him, push his cock as far down my throat as it’ll go, then I put the knife to his Achilles tendon.

Time stops. He notices. I can feel the tension like a sandstorm rushing into the room. He stops all movement abruptly, and when I go to slice through the tendon, he jerks his leg and the knife slips up, just missing the spot I was aiming for.

I jerk back, bringing the knife with me, and he crumples to the ground, pants comically around his ankles and hisses in pain.

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