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With a heavy exhale, Paxton slowly peeled his fingers off my throat. There was a strange clinking sound as he reached into his pocket. When his hand emerged, I blinked rapidly, certain I was dreaming again. Why the hell did Paxton have handcuffs?
Before my foggy brain could register another thought, my arms were above my head and the cuffs were closing around my wrists, locking me to the metal rails on the bedhead. I opened my mouth to scream, but Paxton’s palm clamped down over my lips, muffling the sound so it came out as a strangled whimper.
“You need to be quiet now,” he muttered. “Can you do that, Sienna? Be a good girl for me?”
I nodded and let out a squeak of assent through my nostrils. Paxton reached into his other pocket and drew out a knife. The long silver blade glinted in the sliver of moonlight peeking through the bottom of the curtains, and my whole body went rigid with terror.
The tip of the knife pressed against my throat. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked.
I stared up at him through bulging eyes, too scared to make another sound. He let out a dry, humorless laugh and moved the tip of the blade lower, sliding it right over my chest. I thought he was going to cut me open, but he ran the knife down my satin cami instead, slicing it vertically in one quick movement. The soft fabric fell away on either side of me, leaving my breasts bared to him.
He dropped the knife and ran a hand over my hard nipples. “I knew it,” he murmured, pinching one of them between his thumb and forefinger. “You want this.”
His other hand was still firmly clamped over my mouth, stopping me from telling him that my nipples had only stiffened because of the cold.
But… that wasn’t entirely true.
I was loath to admit it, but the vicious desire burning in Paxton’s eyes was making a strange thrill zip through my veins. Horror washed over me immediately afterward, but I couldn’t deny what that fucked-up part of my psyche felt. I wanted his rough hands on my body right now. Wanted him to touch me; take whatever he wanted from me, even if it hurt.
He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, because he picked up the knife again and sliced off my satin pajama shorts. My now-naked body lay shivering with a mix of fear and anticipation, chest rising and falling in quick, harsh breaths.
Paxton removed his hand from my mouth and slid it lower, cupping my jaw before wrapping around my throat again. His lips closed over mine, rough kiss igniting my body, and I moaned into his mouth, arching my back off the bed.
“Please,” I said in a ragged whisper when he pulled away. “Paxton, please…”
“Please what?” he asked, voice dripping with wicked amusement.
“I… I want to…” I was panting so hard that it felt as if my throat were closing up. I couldn’t speak properly. Could barely even breathe.
“It’s okay, sweet girl,” Paxton said in a low voice, holding the tip of the knife to my chest again. “I know what you want.”
He moved down the bed, and the blade moved with him, slowly but surely tracing a whisper-soft line down my bare skin. I wanted to writhe and moan, but I didn’t dare to make a sound or move a muscle. Not when the tip of the knife wound up resting right above the most delicate part of me.
I sucked in a deep breath as Paxton slid that cold, unforgiving tip a fraction of an inch lower to tap on my clit. The shock almost made me jolt, but I managed to stay frozen in place, holding my breath as I watched a sinful smirk curve up his lips.
“You want to come, don’t you?” he said, voice laced with twisted amusement. As he spoke, he flipped the knife in his hand so that the black plastic handle was pressed up against me.
I twitched and gasped, nerve endings on fire as he teased me, rubbing the handle on my clit in slow, circular motions. He finally moved it lower, probing my entrance.
“Look at this,” he growled, pulling away. “Not so sweet after all, are you?”
It was too dark to see properly, and the cuffs prevented me from moving any closer to get a better look, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. The knife handle was undoubtedly dripping with my arousal.
Paxton’s hand twisted near my core, and the handle slid deeper this time, opening me up and stretching me around it. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from crying out, wishing it was his cock instead.
“More,” I begged, utterly ravenous for him. “Please.”
He swiped the thumb of his free hand over my clit as he withdrew the handle and thrust it back in. I almost jolted right off the bed.
“Ohmygodohmygod.” The words melted together as my body began to shake. Then I was coming so hard that stars popped in front of my eyes, blinding me for a split-second.
“Look at me, Sienna,” Paxton commanded. “Look at me when you come.”
Looking directly into his eyes amplified the humiliation I felt from allowing myself to enjoy such an act, but it wasn’t enough to override the pleasure. His thumb brushed my clit again, and I cried out, shuddering and twitching as I rode out the waves of my climax.
Everything around me was suddenly whirling, like I was stuck on a carnival ride. Then I was dropping like a stone, falling through time again. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Couldn’t understand where I was, or even when I was.
My blurred vision finally cleared. I saw Paxton kneeling at the end of the bed, holding a glinting knife. His mouth was twisted in a cruel smile, and his eyes were resting on my face, glittering with malice.
