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She moaned as her finger dipped inside. The nightgown darkened beneath her ass with her need.
Swallowing hard, I growled, “If you get that paperwork wet, you’re in trouble.”
Moaning, she tipped her head back. “You know what your threats do to me.”
“Fuck yes, I do.” I shot up from my chair, fisting my cock with one hand and snatching her hip with the other. Yanking her to the edge of the desk, paper fluttered to the floor, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Tess deserved to pay for making me this senseless. She needed another endless night in chains while I did whatever I damn well wanted to her.
I wanted to taste.
But not the part of her she was expecting.
Grabbing the sharp letter opener glinting by my lamp, I dropped my head between her thighs. The scent of her arousal made a ripple of need work up my cock. She always did this to me. Made me too eager. Too willing to blur the lines between husband and beast.
Her breath turned thin and quick as I blew a stream of air on her clit.
“Q. Yes. God, please…”
Keeping my eyes locked on the most vulnerable part of her—the part no one else would ever see or touch unless they wanted to have their heart ripped out by my bare hands—I dragged the letter opener along the inside of her trembling thigh.
She stiffened at the sharpness.
She stopped breathing as I dug the point into the crease where her pussy met her leg. Such a delicate place. Paper thin skin, easily damaged, and beautifully bruised with spiderwebs of arteries and veins.
“You couldn’t give me an hour to finish, esclave? You had to come and interrupt me.”
“I missed you.”
“I wouldn’t admit that if I were you.” I dipped my head and ran my tongue from her wet entrance to her tight little clit. “I’ll get a god complex.”
“Don’t care.” She shuddered as I nipped her, dragging my tongue back to her entrance, my hand tightening around the letter opener as a flush of her desire coated my lips.
“You don’t care that I hold your life in my hands?” I bit her again, making her cry out. “You don’t care that I get off knowing I could so easily hurt you?”
She squirmed on my desk, locking onto the two words that’d become an awful aphrodisiac between us. Between a sadist and his masochist. Between two monsters who’d found each other in the dark.
“Hurt me,” she breathed.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I fell on her pussy, lapping up every drop of need, biting, laving, driving my tongue as deep as it would go. Her moans came quick with intoxicating gasps.
I let her think I would take her to the edge. That I would let her come on my tongue. Her legs clenched, her toes dug into my thighs where she still had her feet planted. Her moans turned to whimpers. The first squeeze of her pussy around my tongue—
Ripping my face from her, I soared upright and pressed the letter opener right over her jugular.
My cock speared up, sticking out from my suit. I was fully dressed, and my Tess was naked on an altar to be eaten. So pretty. So pure. So perfect.
My teeth ached to bite. My tongue burned to taste.
Her eyes met mine with a flash of condemning black fire that also burned inside me. Fire that only grew hotter the longer we played.
Ever so slowly, she turned her head, surrendering her throat to me, giving me every shred of trust and submission. “Do it.”
My lips pulled back as I traced her vein with the small stationery dagger.
My black heart pounded. My lips, still coated in her desire, stung for a different sort of flavour. One far more intimate than sexual pleasure. One of sickness and depravity. One that I needed to sate because her blood was my temporary cure. A shot of medicine to restrain myself for another day.
I didn’t look away from her as I pressed the dagger just a little harder.
