Page 12 of Sinfully Owned


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My heart pounded harder the longer we looked at each other, neither daring to take the next step. Caught in each other's gaze, we fought a silent battle over who would make the first move. Who would give in and make sure that the inevitable happened?

"Dario," I breathed, leaning forward a little so that his gaze darted down and over my cleavage.

His expression betrayed him. Heat shot through my body as I realized what kind of game I was playing. And with whom.

The blood rushed through my ears as soon as he came closer to me inch by inch, making me lean further and further back. The muscles in my stomach burned, but I could hardly wait to feel his entire body weight on me and find out how much lurked beneath this facade.

I touched the couch, his chest to mine. He grabbed my head, turned it to the side and pressed me into the soft fabric so that he could put his lips around my ear and pull on it.

This action alone made me gulp. Sex was not unknown territory for me, but most men were just not fun company in bed. Predictable. Following the same pattern. Only interested in their own fun.

Dario seemed to have a precise idea of how to get my pulse racing. It felt like my chest was about to explode.Merda.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to challenge me like this?" he asked with a rough undertone. Goosebumps shot down my neck, spreading over my body.

I bit my tongue before answering. "Why? What's the worst that could happen?"

Another challenge. I was sure that I would regret this at some point in the course of the next few minutes.

Dario emitted a sound that could be identified as amused at best. The next moment I felt the icy blade of a knife against my neck. It demanded blood. Right where it pressed into my sensitive skin.

I swallowed. Heat rose in my body again, but this time for different reasons.

"What are you doing?" I asked, grabbing his upper arms and bracing myself against him with my full weight.

Of course, it was no use. Dario didn't move an inch, just looked down at me from above, amused.

"That's part of it,micina," he growled.

"It involves pressing a fucking knife against my throat?"

Dario leaned down again, his mouth on my ear. "Yes," he breathed. "And it's going to wander. Later, I'll press it against your pussy and you'll like it. Maybe I'll let you fuck the handle if you don't behave."

A shudder ran through my body, I tried to turn my head and find his gaze to be sure he wouldn't hurt me. But his grip on my neck had tightened again, so I couldn't move without hurting myself.

I gasped. "You are sick," I groaned.

"That's nothing new," he replied. "I'm just surprised it sounds so snide coming out of your mouth."

He turned so that his hand could slide down over my body until he reached the waistband of my pants, slid his fingers underneath and between my legs.

"You're wet,micina. And that's not from the slight fear you feel." He withdrew his hand, raised it to his face, and closed his eyes as he smelled his fingers. He then let it slide over his lips and into his mouth.

"I can't wait to soak the wooden handle of my knife with it," he stated with a glowing expression after looking at me again.

I could only observe all this from the corner of my eye, and yet it did not pass me by without leaving a trace. It demanded a physical reaction. This turned out to be quite to Dario's liking, because he bent down again, his lips again on my ear. I smelled myself and closed my eyes. I would have preferred the smell of his arousal in my nose.

With a soft hiss, I pushed my hips up and towards him. He had touched me. Why didn't he continue with it?

"You are sick," I repeated.

"Yes. And you're into it. Let's see how long it takes you to admit it," he replied and slid the blade of the knife down over my neck to my collarbone.

Dario pushed himself slightly off the couch so that he could stand up. The knife did not even lose contact with my skin.

"I want you to trust me. So we're going to put that to the test," he announced.

Even before the blade bit into my skin, I knew what was going to happen. A steep crease formed on my forehead as soon as the pain raced through my body. That was all the reaction I gave him. No flinch. No gasp. Even though it hurt and I wasn't good at seeing blood.

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