Page 55 of Marked

“Give me the nail kit.” He grips the box. “Let go, little bird, and I promise I’ll make the outside hurt better than the inside.”

I swallow back the sob threatening to break free. How can this man know me so well?

He sees the dark demons dancing, and instead of running away, he turns the music louder.

Closing my eyes, I release the box, and he takes it from me.

“Good little bird.” He kisses my cheek. “Now, get rid of those clothes.” He takes the box to the vanity and places it on the counter. He opens it up and looks at the tools inside.

My hands shake as I pull off the clothes I slept in and drop them into a pile beside the shower.

“Come here.” He holds out his hand to me. In his other hand, he holds the pointed nail file.

His touch is warm when he wraps his hand around mine, leading me to stand in front of him.

“Up here.” He pats the countertop, but before I can hop on, he grabs me by the hips and hoists me. The marble is cool against my ass.

“Zack,” I whisper his name.

“Not yet, little bird. I’m playing.” He pushes my knees apart and stands between them. “Now, your thighs are already pretty, let’s work on your chest.”

I dig my nails into my knees, readying myself for the bite.

“Eyes on me. Never look away.” His orders are harder to obey now. Such fierceness shouldn’t wet my pussy the way it does, but I can already feel myself dripping onto the counter.

“All right,” I agree with a nod.

Placing the tip of the file just below my collar bone, where it won’t be seen when I’m dressed, he pushes it into my skin.

At first, I don’t feel much. It’s not very sharp after all. But then he pushes harder, and harder still, until pain blossoms, spreading heat all throughout my chest, down my belly.

“Ahhhh.” I fight the urge to pull back as he drags the file downward. Barely half an inch, but it’s getting deeper, and the pain draws a fog in.

“Such a good girl.” He lifts the file and brings the tip of it to his mouth. There’s a tiny drop of blood, and he licks it away.

“More.” I arch my back, offering him my body.

He grins like he’s been given the keys to the kingdom.

The file digs in again, this time deeper right away. He’s pushed through the skin, and I hiss from the instant burn. Blood trickles from the cut he’s made, but he’s not finished.

Carving my skin, he drags the tip across, then down and across again.

My toes curl.

The fog rolls in, thicker and sweeter.

“Is my girl happy yet?” he asks, wiping the trickle of blood off my skin with his middle finger and brings it into my eyesight.

“It feels good when you hurt me,” I say, eyeing his bloody finger.

“I feel good when I hurt you, too.” He brings the finger to my mouth, pushing past my lips, and I suck until the metallic taste goes away.

“More?” He poises the file over my chest again.

“Please.” I nod and lean back, shaking my hair behind me to be sure his canvas is free of any obstruction.

He moves his eyes to my chest, leaving me to stare at the top of his head as he continues his work.

---