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“You hungry?” Brax tips his head to the side teasingly, and when I nod back at him, he hauls himself up off the floor and steps a little closer to me. My neck automatically stretches to look up at his tall, intimidating body, and he slowly crouches down in front of me so his eyes are level with mine. I can’t help staring at his plump lips again, bizarrely I crave them more than I do the apple in his hand.
The sound of scraping metal diverts my eyes and when I look between us, I see him pull a knife from his black boot.
My breath catches in my throat, and my skin shivers as he presses the blade flat against my skin. The cold steel slides steadily from my ankle up to my knee.
My pussy pulses as he nears it, and my eyes follow his as he stands back up in front of me again.
Using the blade, he peels the skin from the apple, managing skillfully to keep it in one piece. The red skin curls into a circle when it drops to the floor between his feet, and his eyes drop from mine to the peel.
“You expect me to eat that?” I hear the shake in my voice, and he remains silent as he cuts a neat slice out of the apple and balances it on his knife blade. Moving it up to his mouth he scrapes it off with his teeth. Then he cuts another slice, and offers the blade out to me. His hand is steady as a rock, while I do my best to keep myself composed.
A coat of juice glistens around the slice, and I can already taste how delicious it’s gonna be on my tongue.
My lips tremble, desperate to reach forward and take it. But fear of humiliation stops me. Brax reeks of danger, it’s in his eyes, it’s written all over his face. I felt it when he held the knife against my skin. He likes to play mind games, but I won’t let him fuck with me.
“You shouldn’t give up your fear so freely,” he rasps at me. “Men like me thrive on that shit.” His words provoke a newfound determination inside me, one that makes my lips kick up into a smirk. And I make sure to keep my eyes on his as I use my tongue to trail over my top lip, before leaning forward to take his knife between my teeth. The sharp blade presses into the corners of my mouth as I scrape the slice off it.
I don’t chew straight away, letting the juice absorb onto my tongue and fill my mouth with a crisp sweetness. Brax looks down on me with hooded eyes and traces the tip of his knife along the outline of my mouth. I don’t know how I manage it, but I don’t flinch, I’m more concerned about him noticing that my nipples are standing up under his shirt. And trying not to look at his crotch now that it’s level with my eyes
“Good girl.” He nods his approval at me, slowly stepping backward and taking his place back against the wall.
As the evening grows darker, so does the intensity, and all I can do is sit and watch him drink from the bottle until there’s hardly any left. I can’t help wonder how something so bad can be so compelling, the man even makes smoking cigarettes look sexy. He’s been staring at me for so long now, like he’s trying to figure stuff out in his head. And if he’s drunk it could benefit me, he might get sloppy.
I could try and make a run for it when he moves me upstairs. That’s if he even intends to take me upstairs to sleep tonight. The thought of spending another night on that mattress makes me shudder, but after being in the same position all day I think I’d actually welcome it.
Unfortunately for me, the alcohol seems to have no effect on Brax.
“What’s your story?” he asks, tipping his head to one side like he’s trying to read the thoughts in my head. His eyes are still so focused, although now they have a red rim around them that makes them look slightly vulnerable. His lips are thicker too, swollen from drinking from the bottle.
“Come on, tell me what brings ya here.” He takes another long swig before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What do you mean? Brax, you brought me here. You’re the one who took me.” I shake my head back at him, confused and angry at the same time. Brax snorts a laugh as if my frustration amuses him.
“If you don’t know why I’m here, why are you doing this?” I question him, this could be my chance to get some answers.
“Prez’s orders,” he rasps sarcastically.
“Prez. Who’s Prez?”
He doesn’t answer me, but I’m not ready to let the conversation end. Brax has so much more to tell, and I’m taking advantage of the fact that alcohol has made his tongue a little loose.
“And do you always do what Prez tells you to do?” I bite back at him, expecting an angry response. When all I get back is a simple nod of his head, I don’t even have to fake the giggle that spills from my mouth.
“What ya finding so funny?” His eyes narrow as he lifts up his chin.
“You just don’t seem like the kind of guy who does as he’s told.” I shrug, then quickly drop my clever smile when he stands up and moves closer, he tosses the bottle and pulls me up on to my feet. My body’s bent awkwardly from where I’m cuffed to the radiator and he bends his neck to make sure he doesn’t lose my focus.
“I haven’t decided if I am yet,” he whispers, and the pit of my stomach ignites from the threat in his tone.
His eyes drop between our bodies and it triggers a desperate throb between my legs, one that I need to sustain by squeezing my thighs together. But I can't, not without showing him the effect he’s having on me.
“I have so many ways I could force the truth outta you.” His raspy voice vibrates right through me, and I swallow thickly, feeling a wet patch form in my PJ shorts… My light pink, PJ shorts.
“I could make these lips spill out all your secrets,” he continues, his thumb sliding across my bottom lip before dragging it down to my chin. I hear my own tiny moan, and hope that this time he does mistake it for fear because if he knows what really caused it, I’m fucked.
“Your temptress games ain’t gonna work on me. I don’t crave the warmth of a woman.” He looks down between us like he can sense the heat torturing me between my legs.
“So what do you crave?” I ask, intrigued. I’d like to know how a man like Brax could be broken.
