Page 58 of Psycho Sinners

Those dark eyes burned into mine, wickedness flickering through them, although I could’ve sworn I’d seen a hint of turmoil as his sneer fell.

"Undress," he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

I did as he commanded, hating how my body trembled beneath him. He didn’t make the task easy, refusing to rise off me properly so I could wiggle out of my clothing, but I got it done.

He smirked as he trailed the knife over my stomach, and I dared not move, worried this psychotic man would disembowel me. I suddenly very badly wanted Tyrone or Julian home. They may have abused my body, but they didn’t make me feel like they would kill me without a second thought.

I sucked in a breath, every inch of me frozen as the blade glided down over my pubic region, the cool tip skating down to my folds.

I stared at him, not willing to breathe let alone move as his gaze dropped to my nether region.

“I still haven’t had you in red,” he cooed, a wicked promise in that horrid smirk.

I whimpered as the knife dipped into my folds ever so slowly. One wrong move, and he’d slice me open.

I held my breath for as long as I could before drawing in shallow, frail breaths, the knife slowly delving deeper inside me.

This was so wrong, so messed up.

His gaze was locked on my vagina, focused with such a wretched look that it made me sick to my stomach. There was twisted, and there was him.

Was he going to mutilate me? Cut off my clit or something inconceivable? I thought I’d been playing with fire, but Cristian was nuclear. He’d destroy everything in his path and leave nothing behind, there’d be no chance to rise from the ashes and bloom when he was done with you.

The trembles started up despite my best effort, and my vision blurred as he started to twist the knife inside me. It didn’t hurt yet, not with how slow his movements were, but I was just waiting for the cruelty to begin, for him to yank it out and slice me wide open.

“How does that feel, kitten?” he breathed, and a tear trickled down my cheek as I moved my gaze to the ceiling.

The blade stilled inside me, and another tear slid down my cheek as I bit my lip, not wanting to make a sound or move a muscle.

The blade inched out, and when it was finally free from my folds, I sucked in a shaky breath.

A startled cry was swallowed up as his lips crashed against mine, and I heard the knife clatter on the floor as he tossed it aside.

All the fear and terror morphed, and I snarled against him. I clawed with everything I had, chomping down hard on his lip, intending to bite it clean off.

His hand caught my burned wrist, clamping down on it with crushing pressure and making me cry out. The pain forced me to let go of his lip before I could bite through, and I slashed my other hand up. Satisfaction coursed through me as my nails clawed through his cheek, breaking the skin.

“Fuck!” he snarled as he caught my hand, slamming it down onto the floor and making me hiss, the pain shooting through my arm.

Blood trickled down his face and from his lip, dripping onto my chin and neck as he glared down at me.

Then the damn crazy fucker smiled. He actually smiled, blood staining his teeth before he laughed.

“Good girl, fight me, keep that fire burning.”

I gritted my teeth, tasting the coppery satisfaction of my attack. But I didn’t move a muscle, and his smile faltered.

“Keep fighting,” he hissed, and I just jutted my chin out defiantly.

He scowled and yanked back, and I didn’t get a chance to register what was happening until my head snapped to the side, pain flaring through my cheek from the slap.

He fucking slapped me.

What a little bitch.

“Fucking fight me!” he roared in my face, and I jerked my head straight, seizing the moment. I smashed my forehead into his nose, making him curse and sit back, releasing my arms.

Blood poured from his nose as he touched it, maniacal laughter ringing out as he stared at the blood on his hand.

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