Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
I consider telling him the truth—that I’m a virgin—but snap my mouth closed before any words can come out. I don’t want him to reject me for that simple reason alone. I don’t want this moment between us to end. By the time he finds out, it will be too late to stop.
I keep my gaze on him, watching intently so I don’t miss anything. The air in my lungs stutters out when the knife returns to view.
“Keep your leg against my shoulder, and don’t move it. I’d hate to accidentally hurt you.” Thought his tone is teasing, I know he’s serious from the dead-ass look in his eyes. My body involuntarily shivers at his confession.
What the hell is he going to do with that knife? Even though I question his motives, I don’t make a move to get up or stop him.
“Mmm, so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, staring down at my pussy. “I can’t wait to see how she looks stuffed full of my cock.”
Slowly, he lifts the mask up to rest on top of his head. Then it’s like slow motion as he brings the hilt of the knife to his lips. Using two fingers, he holds the steel blade and wets the hilt, pressing it deep into his mouth.
It’s fucked up, but also strangely erotic to watch. When he pulls the hilt of the knife from his mouth, it’s wet with saliva, and I stare up at him, confused. His fingers gently stroke against my inner thigh, and when he drops his hand, the knife disappearing from view, I freeze.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Remember, keep very still, Little Prey.” His voice is a whisper, and my nipples harden to stiff points as his fingers brush against my wet, sensitive skin.
Holy shit. My body heat rises to a combustible level.
Lifting my head to get a better look, I watch as he flips the blade around the hilt end toward my entrance. Fuck no. He isn’t going to do what I think he is…is he?
“Sebastian.” I’m trembling now, my gaze ping-ponging between where he touches me and his face.
“Yes, Little Prey?”
The hilt brushes over my clit, and every nerve ending comes alive. I can barely breathe, let alone form a coherent thought, but my worry for him overshadows that pleasure. The blade is sharp, and if he’s going to put the other end inside me or touch me with it, he’ll need to be holding the blade to maintain complete control.
“You can’t…” The air escapes my lungs as he slides the end back over my clit, and I whimper from the onslaught of sensations.
“What was that?” He chuckles darkly.
“Stop. You can’t. You’ll cut yourself.” My response comes out in a rush.
He gives my clit one more stroke, and then I feel him slipping through my soaked folds, trailing down to my entrance. I can’t move for fear he might accidentally cut me, but I can touch him, which is exactly what I do. Placing a trembling hand on his arm, I use the connection to make certain he both sees and feels me.
“Unless you’re choosing to use your safe word, I’m not stopping.” His penetrating gaze is back on me, flicking across my face, reading my features. I can’t put into words how much it means to me for him to take my feelings into consideration. Especially when I know it’s not something he’s used to or even does. And a tiny smile tugs at my lips because while he says he won’t stop, he doesn’t penetrate me with the knife either.
“No, that’s not it. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
His eyes warm at my admission. “Ely, that’s just it. I don’t think you understand how fucking far gone I am for you, but let me spell it out.” I feel him tug against my clothes, the sound of fabric ripping, but I don’t care what he does to this stupid costume. “Pain doesn’t scare me; it only intensifies my pleasure, and if I have to endure a little pain to witness that euphoric look in your eyes, to watch your pussy pulse around my knife, to hear that sweet little mouth of yours beg and plead, then I will endure any fucking amount of pain to be a witness to that.”
I swallow thickly. There are no words for that response, nor does he wait for me to give him one. Instead, he drags the hilt through my sopping folds one last time before he brings it to my entrance. I shiver from the contact. There’s a slight burn as he slides the matte handle inside me, slowly, so fucking slowly. I feel every little ridge in the grip as it enters me. All the way until the colder part touches right at my opening.
I watch until he takes his free hand and places it flat on my belly, forcing me to lie flat on my back. War wages in my mind because I’m torn between watching him and lying back and letting him do whatever he wants to me.