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“What do you mean?” I ask in a quiet voice.
“When I suspected you were doing something to these women, I wanted to know more about you. I hoped to be able to catch you. To watch. I thought it would help to live vicariously. I’m not so sure anymore.”
His grip tightens on the handle before he lifts it from my flesh.
“Do it,” I say, telling myself it’s bravery and not stupidity.
“What?” His brows furrow deeply, his face hard.
“Cut me. Don’t kill me. Feel the blood between your fingers again.”
His eyes show confusion, but it’s quickly replaced by exhilaration. Once again, his body trembles. The excitement is too much to contain.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I’m giving you what you want.”
“You’re playing with your life. Who’s to say I’ll be able to control myself?”
I force a grin that I hope is as carefree as I want it to be. “If you kill me, you won’t be able to do this again. If you keep me alive, we can have this forever.”
His eyes narrow when I say the wordforever. It was too much. Before I can backtrack, the blade penetrates my skin.
“Ah fuck,” I hiss, looking down to see a droplet of blood emerge from the cut. Then another one, and another.
He drags the blade down in a curve, leaving a crescent moon shape in my flesh. He’s not forcing the blade too deep into my body, but he’s cutting deeply enough to produce a good amount of blood.
“Fuck,” I curse, the burn turning into a throb.
Silently, he cuts the mirror image of the crescent moon, creating a circle on my left pec. The tip goes a little deeper at the base of his work, and I bite down on my bottom lip so hard that I draw blood.
He drops the knife and his fingers reach for the wound. Carefully, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the pool of crimson, his fingertips slide into the liquid. His chest expands with a deep breath, and then he pushes down, causing more blood to surface. His hand smears the deep red color over my pec, coating his fingers. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as he relishes this moment.
His eyes finally find mine, like he’s realizing I’m here for the first time. I lick my bottom lip, tasting blood, and his nostrils flare.
He takes his dick in his hand and starts stroking. My cock comes back to life as I watch him, his skin flushed, dick hard and painted with my blood. With his left hand, he touches me, his thumb swiping at the pre-cum dripping from my crown. From there, his fingers find my lip and swipe at the blood. He mixes them together, his eyes transfixed on the liquid between his fingertips. His other hand moves faster on his dick.
We’re nothing but heavy breaths and grunts. His eyes bounce between his own dick, to mine, to the blood on my chest.
“Fuck,” he groans, releasing my cock as an orgasm overtakes him.
When he roars, his cum shoots out in white ribbons, landing on my dick and lower stomach. I watch patiently as his body rocks with aftershocks, his back hunched as he squeezes out every drop of his cum onto my skin.
My dick throbs with need, pain already forgotten.
“Ez,” I rasp in a husky tone. “Please.” I jerk on my restraints as I look at him.
He stands and grabs my ruined shirt from the floor to wipe his dick before he starts to get dressed. This has got to be a cruel joke.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, struggling to keep the alarm from my tone.
Once his pants are fastened and his shoes are on his feet, he comes forward. “Kaspian, you have to know this won’t work.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I say, jerking my arms and trying to sit up.
“I’ll admit you aroused my curiosity, but I’m sure this won’t end well.”
“You call this ending well?” I snap.
