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“Yes,” I reply. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please make me come.”
“I will, but first we need to commemorate this moment.”
He pulls away from me, reaching for the previously discarded knife and grabbing my right arm. I sit up, turned on, annoyed, and now afraid.
“What’re you doing?”
“Making sure everyone knows you belong to me. Now hold still.”
The tip of the knife touches the inside of my arm at my wrist. His eyes flicker to mine before he drags it down in a quick motion.
“Fuck!”
Blood begins to seep from the cut, but then he’s making another one, connecting the two lines in a point at the bottom. It’s a V.
“It hurts,” I cry.
Our eyes meet and I know he’s waiting for me to say it. I think to utter the word.Flower. But the stubborn part of me wants to see it to the end, so I pin my lips together.
He tightens his grip on my hand, making three more quick cuts before swiping his thumb across his tongue and pressing it to my wound. Reaching for one of the cloth napkins that fell to the floor, he brings it to my wrist and tightens it around the cuts.
Without another word, he’s back in between my legs, sucking on my clit.
My wrist burns, but the pain is drowned out by the pleasure filling me as his tongue slides through my slickness, tasting my arousal. With a flattened tongue, he slowly and steadily focuses on my clit, making me clench my thighs around his head as the heightened sensitivity becomes almost too much to bear.
My eyes burn with unshed tears as the slow building orgasm grows.
“Oh god. Please, please. Yes, yes,” I chant.
I squeeze the table in my hands, my body writhing uncontrollably as he never lets up. When he slides two fingers inside me, it hits. I’m transported to euphoria. My body feels like it shatters into millions of pieces, each one filled with nothing but pleasure before coming back together in an explosion of ecstasy.
I let out a scream before crumbling into a whimpering, heavy-breathing mess. My body jerks with aftershocks, his tongue still inflicting the most amazing jolts of satisfaction.
When he eases away, he hovers over me, his face glistening with my arousal.
“Clean me up.”
I grasp his face between my hands and lick his chin and the area around his mouth before sliding my tongue across his lips. He makes a half attempt to pull back, but I tug him closer, my tongue dipping into his mouth to taste my wetness on his tongue.
“Mm,” I moan.
He stares at me for a few seconds before stepping back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His erection is straining behind his pants, but instead of undressing and fucking me, he takes a step back.
“Vicente,” I say softly.
Maybe I took it too far by kissing him. He seems to be fighting something within himself, but he doesn’t appear angry.
He lunges forward, making me jolt back before he grabs my arm and snatches the napkin off my wrist.
The cuts are red and angry, coated in blood. He brings my wrist up, forcing me to see the marks.
“Remember who you belong to, Mariella.”
His dark eyes burn into mine for several seconds before he spins around and leaves the room.
