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He showed me who he was.
And I didn’t care.
Yet here I am, naked in a hotel room while he stands in front of me, just as naked as I am, smirking and holding me to the bed with a fucking knife.
The real issue I am having, though—and it’s a big one, really big—is that I’m a little turned on.
Make that a lot, actually.
Fuck.
He licks his full lips. It’s funny. I’d pay to have lips as thick and full as his, yet I know his are natural.
His eyes leave mine and scan downward. “If you scream again, I’ll cut you. Do you understand?” He says it while applying a little pressure to the knife, where I feel the blade breaking the skin. I try not to wince, but I can’t help it. “A little blood never hurt nobody.” As he says it, he smiles. Removing his hand from my mouth, he slides it between my breasts until it reaches my lower belly.
I follow the movement, both worried and fascinated.
Worried that he will cut me and I’ll bleed to death.
Fascinated by what he’s doing.
I’m fucked-up.
This is fucked-up.
His hand slides lower, and my body betrays me and breaks out in goose bumps, which he doesn’t miss as he reaches my pussy. Two fingers slide along my lips, and when they do, he can tell. He knows. It’s the slight twitch of his lips that gives it away. He pulls his fingers away and quickly brings them to his lips, and smiling as he slides them into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Little Miss Trouble likes to play dirty.”
“How do you know it’s not from earlier?” I bite back.
“Oh, it’s not.”
He’s right.
It’s not.
He lifts the knife from my leg and slides it toward where his hand was between my legs. A small amount of blood trails in its wake along my skin.
I freeze, my whole body locking up tight.
He notices, and his expression turns wicked.
“Are you finally afraid?” he asks.
Fucking hell, I don’t dare look at him. Instead, I stare down at that knife where it rests near my pussy.
That’s an area where I’d prefer not to have a knife, thank you very much.
“Little Miss Trouble. What if I…” He moves the blade a bit, and now it’s so close that if he moves it any farther, it will slide straight over my most sensitive body part.
“Get that fucking knife away from there, you sick sadist,” I shout as I move my hand, careful not to move my lower body, and reach for his cock. I’m sitting up straight now with him hovering over me, our lips close and my hand on his hard length. “If you even think of moving that closer, I willfuck you up.” I groan as his other hand moves and slides between my folds. He slips one finger inside me, and the knife lowers to the bed.
He slides his finger out and back in, and his cock jumps in my hand. I go to release my death grip on him, but as I do, I see the knife move, and so does my hand. Reaching as quickly as I can, I grab his balls and tug down, all the while squeezing them as hard as I can.
He groans. And when my eyes meet his, I see a mixture of pain and pleasure blazing back at me.
“You like that,” I say and do it again. “Throw the knife away,now.” I growl out the words, and he does so at my command. I pull one more time, gripping tight before I release him. When my hands are back at my sides, he pushes down hard on my chest. Lowering me to the bed. And before I can see what he’s doing or tell him to fuck off, his mouth is on me.
