Page 24 of Taking Me

“Now, let’s see how long it takes to break that spirit of yours,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing the knife’s edge along my collarbone.

He adds enough pressure to cut through a layer of my skin, and I instantly feel the air hitting the wetness of the blood. It burns, an intense sting that radiates from the wound, and all of my body is now focuses on it.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “You see, Little Sinister, pain has a way of making everything else disappear.”

I try to pull away, but the restraints hold me firmly in place. I remind myself of what Marklov said to me earlier. I need to just push the pain away and get it all over with.

My mind is a whirlwind of fear and pain, each breath a struggle. The cut throbs, and I can feel the blood trickling down my skin.

The knife is now going between my legs and nearing my cunt. I clench my fists in hopes that I can control my urges to lash out and hide the pain he is causing me. Marklov flips the knife over, now having the handle rub against my folds. I do not like where this is heading.

Marklov takes his free hand, trailing it up my prickly skin, and spreads me open wide for him. I try not to move because the knife is still on my skin.

Shit.This sick fuckin’ bastard.

He places the tip of the blade near my entrance, teasing me with the less sharp side. Using his other hand, he rubs my bud, which is now at attention for him. I remind myself of my situation, if I lash out now I will be in a world of pain.

I can not take this. A knife to my cunt is where I draw the line.

“Behave, Little Sinister,” He lets out in a deep voice.

This needs to be over with already.

He places his hot tongue on my cunt, slowly stroking my bud up and down and traces it in circles.

He begins sucking on my bud, making my back arch. My hands grab hold of the ropes that have me restrained. He flips my knife back to the grip side and circles my entrance.

Fuck, I really should not be enjoying this.

Marklov inserts my knife inside of me, slowly pumping it in and out, each movement sending a electrified jolts down my body. He continues sucking on my bud, his tongue expertly flicking over the sensitive skin, and I can’t help but moan, the sound escaping my trapped lips involuntarily.

I seriously need to see a therapist or something, I think, as my body betrays me.

Marklov moans into me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he drags the knife in and out, the cold steel contrasting with the heat of his mouth. “Fuck, Little Sinister,” he growls, his voice thick with desire.

“You taste like heaven, carved out perfectly by the Diablo himself.” His words send a thrill through me, a dangerous mix of fear and arousal that leaves me breathless.

Marklov knows what he is doing in a dark yet pleasurable sense.

The knife slides out of me, and he takes the blade down my thigh, cutting me, causing me to react. I try kicking and pulling my hands inward but only fail. Tears begin streaming down my face, fighting there way through the fabric and panic sets in.

“This is not about your pleasure, Little Sinister. This is about your pain,” he barked out as I lay here crying and in pain.

Marklov stands up and walks closer to me. He takes his thumb and wipes a tear that had escaped through the blindfold. Tracing my jawline lightly, trailing up to pull off my blindfold.

“How do you make pain look so beautiful, Little Sinister?” He let out, our eyes locking on one another.

My adrenaline is racing fast, making my breaths feel constricted, and the stinging on my thigh subsides.

Marklov gives me the slightest grin, taking his hand up my arm and grabbing hold of my pointer finger. The rope friction has my wrists beat red and ready to bleed.

Saliva drips from the gag that is placed tightly around my head and in my mouth. He separates my finger from the others.

“Do you remember that night?” He said in a dark tone.

“The night that you did this?” He holds up his hand, showing me the half-severed finger of his.

My eyes diverted away, and I squeezed them shut, not wanting to see what was about to come my way.

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