Page 23 of Little Rabbit

“Ah, we fight so well that it will keep things interesting, won’t it?” he returns easily, trailing the blade across my chest, and then over the swell of my right breast, along the edge of my tank-top. My nipples harden instantly, and a haughty smile twists his lips as he watches. “Like how turned on you get when I press a knife to your skin. Who knew that my coniglietto would be into something so dangerous? Does the threat of danger make your pussy burn for more, cara mia?” He moves the knife to the other breast, using just enough pressure to push down on the fabric and expose more of me. My heart pounds, and I try to fight back the lust that’s burning inside me.

“No,” I gasp, my body so tense from holding myself still that my muscles ache with it.

“Liar,” he taunts. “Let’s see about that, hmm?” Before I can reply, his other hand plunges down the front of my shorts, past the band of my underwear, and he’s cupping me in his hand. I can’t stop my moan from escaping. His face flushes with heat as he probes at me with his fingers, testing me. I instinctively go up on my tip-toes, uncaring of the bite of the knife in my skin. “You’re fucking soaked, Sienna. Fucking perfect. But now, I wonder, what happens if I do this?” Carefully, and with a skill that I’m ever grateful for, he nudges down my top with the knife, my nipple popping free. He twirls the knife, and then using the point, very carefully circles around it, making it harden even more. My core quivers with a dark pleasure. “That’s it, cara mia,” Alessio whispers, moving his fingers deeper and making me moan at the fullness.

“Alessio,” I gasp out, my eyes closing as I absorb the duelling sensations of the knife now moving to my other breast and giving my other nipple the same treatment, even as he twists his hand in shallow thrusts, driving my arousal to a new height.

“So fucking gorgeous, Sienna,” he groans. “But I need more.” He yanks his hand from my pussy, making me cry out at the abrupt loss, but then he uses it to hold my top taut. Watching me with hungry eyes, he slices through it. I shiver at the chill of the air hitting my skin. Instead of pushing the straps from my shoulders, he grips them one by one and cuts through them easily, letting the now destroyed top fall to the floor and leaving me bare from the waist up. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he stares at me, the knife still clasped in his fingers.

I don’t attempt to speak or move, my entire body so wound up that I don’t think I can. My mind is fuzzy. And it only worsens when he grips my shorts and starts slicing at them too, until they fall to the floor as well. When he gets to my black cotton underwear, I feel a sliver of unease move through me when I finally open my eyes and look at Alessio, who is twirling the knife through his fingers absently as he stares at them.

Then he looks up at me with a hunger in his eyes that makes them appear almost black in color. He stills the knife in his hand, turns it, and moves the blade lightly along the skin of my lower belly, then over toward my right hip. The feel of the blade against such an intimate part of me has my heart pounding so hard I’m sure it’s going to beat right out of my chest, but I somehow manage to keep still. Then he dips the blade under the band of my panties and gives a deft yank, slicing through them and leaving the pieces to hang limply off of me. “You know I learned something about myself a long time ago, Sienna,” Alessio murmurs, watching me as he moves the knife down my hip and along my outer thigh before turning it inward. “There is a very fine line between pain and pleasure. Between fear and desire. I also learned how much I love to ride that line.” He moves the knife up my inner thigh, and my eyes widen when I feel him turn it so that the edge of the blade skims over my mound. “And apparently, so do you. It seems we are perfect match, coniglietto mia.”

One wrong move…

I shudder, unable to suppress it. I try to get myself under control, but it’s to no avail. “Alessio,” I whisper, my breath hitching when he moves the blade back down and then uses the handle to nudge my legs further apart.

“Leave them there, Sienna,” he orders, before the knife finds its way over my left thigh, and then up to the still intact band of my panties, though he makes quick work of it. My underwear falls forgotten to the floor. I’m completely bare to his gaze, and I’m struggling to keep my breathing from becoming too erratic. I feel like my entire body is on a tight-rope, and one wrong step will see me plummeting down into something I’m not sure I’m ready for.

His eyes move over me, taking in the bruises and bite marks he left on me. Most of them are already starting to yellow as they heal, but right now, I’m more aware of them than ever. Then his gaze moves to mine and he steps back into to me, careful to only press the blade flat to my side. He lowers his mouth until it’s inches from my ear and whispers, “Tell me something, Sienna. Did that fucker Branson Booth see what’s mine? Did he see all the marks I left to warn anyone who dared even think of approaching that you were already taken? Did he touch them and realize he never has a prayer of being able to give you what I can?” He moves his mouth down to the bite mark he left on my neck and traces it with his tongue, using just enough pressure to make it ache. “Tell me, Sienna,” he orders, his free hand gripping my hip tightly enough to leave more bruises.

“No,” I gasp, desperate for this torture to end. “We’re not like that. He’s a friend, a client, but nothing more. He spent the entire sail fucking a bunch of groupies, and I made myself scarce. All we did was have dinner, discuss some work he wants done soon, and chat about how life is for him.”

Alessio doesn’t answer for a moment, but the grip on my hip relaxes slightly. Then he lifts his head to stare into my eyes, as if gauging whether I’m telling the truth. I meet his gaze head on, until he finally puts his mouth on mine, kissing me hard and acting every inch the dominant male that he is. I moan, my tongue tangling with his as he plunders my mouth. When he finally yanks himself away, I let out an annoyed sound, which makes his lips quirk before they flatten out and his gaze resumes its intensity. “Make no mistake, Sienna, I will kill any man that touches you, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face. Anything that Booth asshole has said to you in the past, or tried to do, ends now. Because I don’t give a fuck how popular he is, I’ll cut off every appendage he has until he bleeds out and begs for mercy. Do you understand?”

I shudder at his words. Not from disgust—well, only a little—but from shock and a twisted sense of longing. “Y-Yes,” I stutter.

“That’s a good girl. Good girls get rewards, don’t they, cara mia?” I hear the snick of the knife and glance down to see he’s sheathed the blade, but he doesn’t throw it away. Instead he palms it, and a wicked gleam enters his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about your pussy the last couple of days, even as pissed as I have been. And every night, I’ve gone to bed fucking my own fist, thinking of how good it would feel once I was back inside you. How I was going to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk afterward, and never be able to run away from me again.” I bite back a moan at his words.

My clit is throbbing, my core aching, and my thighs tremble from the strain of remaining still. “Alessio,” I breathe, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensation of his body shifting, his hard cock pressing against my hip as he reaches behind me and grips the back of my thigh with his hand. He urges my legs further apart, before he trails it up along the crease where my inner thigh connects with the outer lip of my pussy.

“You’re so wet, cara mia. So fucking perfect.” Then he spreads my lips and pushes two fingers inside me, making me cry out and go up on tiptoe before I let myself fall back down and push him deeper, my inner muscles clamping around him. “Such a greedy little pussy,” he purrs in my ear, working his fingers in and out of me in a slow, steady rhythm, driving me mad. “Soaking my hand so perfectly. But what happens if I do this, hmmm?” My eyes fly open when I feel cool metal press against my clit, before moving slowly but with enough pressure for me to see spots in front of my eyes. I look down and see that he’s pressed the handle of the switchblade against me, turning it at an angle so I can almost grind on it. Thankfully, the blade is closed, but the thought of it opening has me stilling my movements.

“Alessio,” I gasp out.

“Don’t worry, coniglietto,” he soothes, shifting the handle with small movements and rubbing it against my clit. Sparks of pleasure burst through me, and I grip his thigh with my hand to ground myself. “You’re safe as long as you don’t move any further up the knife. Wouldn’t want to cut you, now would we? But, I wonder, what would you do if you moved just a little faster? A little harder? Would you hit the little button toward the top that would make it spring open? Or does that only add to the excitement?” He gives a low chuckle when I rock my hips with his words, grinding into the handle of the knife, my orgasm rising with each movement. I’m too far gone to care about the damn button, though my brain is screaming at me to stop, that I’m playing into Alessio’s game. I can only focus on the friction of the knife and the fullness of his fingers inside me.

Except, I should have known Alessio wouldn’t play fair. Because the moment before my orgasm arrives, he pulls the knife away and pulls his fingers from me, making me cry out. “Fuck,” I groan.

“Did you really think I would let you come that easily, cara mia?” he taunts. He grunts and then chuckles when I drive my nails into his thigh. “I have something else you can squeeze.” I don’t stop my hand as it moves swiftly to cup him through his pants, and I grip hard enough for him to bite out a curse. He jerks in my hand before he pulls his own up to grip my wrist hard enough to make me let go. “Bloodthirsty witch,” he huffs, dropping the knife to the floor. Then he takes my mouth again.

The kiss is just as desperate as before, but this time, with the use of both hands, he grips my ass tight and hoists me up so I can wrap my legs around him and drag my hands through his hair, scoring the scalp, wanting him to feel the same pain and frustration as I do. I’m so desperate for a release I can’t help but grind down on him, needing the friction to tip me over the edge. He growls into my mouth, pushing me tight to the wall, and awkwardly undoes his pants and shoves them down. He adjusts me so my legs are over his forearms, giving him better leverage to thrust inside me.

I scream at the invasion, despite my pussy being so wet he sinks halfway in with little resistance. My entire body shudders as he sets a brutal pace, yanking his mouth from mine. “This is my pussy, Sienna,” he grits out harshly. “Mine to fuck, mine to deny, mine to worship. Because it belongs to me. You belong to me, and I plan to feel this pussy wrapped around me every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Alessio,” I sob, grinding down as much as I can with each thrust, desperately straining for the orgasm that is just out of reach. “Please. Please.” I’m too far gone to care that I’m begging.

“That’s right, cara mia, say my name. Remind everyone who owns this pussy.” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust of his hips, slamming into me until I can only hold on, and my orgasm finally overtakes me.

“Alessio!” I scream as wave after wave consumes me.

“Fuck yes, Sienna,” he grunts, his thrusts somehow impossibly harder than before until finally he spills inside me.

Neither of us move for a long time, and I have to fight to catch my breath. Fuck, I’m in so much trouble.

14

ALESSIO

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