AllFreeNovel
Share Us
You’re fucking broken, Una.
But not even my own psyche or inner monologue will stop me now.
The metal slicing across my skin makes me inhale sharply. There’s a sensualness to it—vicious and yet alluring, like standing on your tiptoes at the edge of cliff or tall building and closing your eyes.
Waiting to see if gravity pulls you over.
My fingers plunge deeper, harder. My palm grinds against my clit. And my other hand brings the edge of the blade against the delicate, sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
Oh God, yes.
The first cut sends me reeling, my back arching as I twist my head to scream into the pillow. My muscles coil. My throat tightens. My entire sense of being reels.
The second cut sends me hurtling toward the edge. It’s a lethal combination: my fingers bringing me to release, and the sharp, explosive, and dangerously erotic feeling of the blade opening my skin.
That, and the face of the man that enters my thoughts just as I start to fall.
Vicious. Lethal. Venomous green eyes…
My entire body twists and writhes, lifting from the bed as my thighs clamp tight together. I scream into the mattress, shaking and pressing my fingers against my clit as the waves crash over me.
I lie there panting, a sheen of sweat across my skin as my muscles spasm.
Fuck.
Ihatehow good this feels. I hate that I’ve flown so close to the sun, exploiting my pain kink in this way to take masturbation from “great” to “fucking incredible”. It’s turned that pain—and the blade I use—into a drug. One I keep craving, even though I know it’s lethal.
My face flushes as I roll onto my back again. Not so much from the aftershocks, or the feeling of electricity still throbbing through my body.
But from the face I saw in my mind’s eye of the man, snarling and psychotic, his green eyes lancing into mine just as I exploded.
Shivering, I groan and slip my legs over the edge of the bed. I stand, but then I frown and glance down.
Shit.
I sit again, reaching back into the metal box and pulling out a band-aid. I pour a bit of peroxide from the little bottle onto a tissue and clean the few drops of blood from the second cut. I went a bit deeper than I should have.
Then the band-aid covers it, and my sin.
I clean the blade with more peroxide, then tuck everything back into the case before putting it back in the drawer in my bedside table.
I stand again, walking over to the wall of photographs and chewing on my lip.
He’s ready for me now. He knows I’m out here.
It’ll be even harder next time.
I groan, hugging my nakedness in the darkness of my room. Suddenly I stiffen, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
It feels like I’m beingwatched.
I whirl, heart climbing into my throat. But of course, I’m alone. And when I check it, the door to my studio is still locked and bolted. So are the windows.
I shiver, pulling on some panties and a t-shirt. Then I walk back over to the windows and lean against the wall, staring out into the New York night.
There’s no one here. Nobody was watching me.
Maybe I’m even more fucked up than I think I am.
