Page 64 of Little Puppet

I nod. “I do.”

Even if it sounds fucking insane.

“If you still have the desire to maim, let me be the one to bleed for you.”

It’s not so much a want to save others from him more than to be what he needs.

I want to be everything that he needs to survive. How better to accomplish that goal than to become his perfect little victim, strung up and vulnerable?

He rolls his neck, his demeanor becomes less controlled, and his body becomes more rigid. “You can’t mean that. You don’t want… Fuck, darling, you’re going to make me have a fucking meltdown…” He growls, turning back toward where I’m suspended at his mercy.

His face looks so animal-like, teeth bared like he’s lost control.

Out of nowhere, he opens a knife, the blade black and threatening. He pinches the tip into my stomach, dragging it down my skin with insane-looking eyes.

He’s unbalanced, and I’m the one who’s tipped him.

“Cain,” I tell him, trying to reel him back. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I want to be what you need.”

He snarls, turning his head almost preternaturally, his dark eyes wide with rage and irrationality. “You’re trying to savethem!”

I was afraid of this, and that is the exact reason I haven’t offered myself up. I didn’t want him to think I had an ulterior motive.

“No, my psycho. I want to be what youneed. I don’t want you going outside of our home to be fulfilled.”

My words settle between us as I watch the muscles in his neck uncoil. It’s as if he were a venomous snake ready to strike, only to decide there’s no longer an enemy to sink his fangs into.

“You want to be what I need,” he repeats.

I shudder out a long breath. “Yes.”

“Do you understand the needs of a man like me?”

His question at first pisses me off because I’ve been with him for six months. I gave up my life and identity for him. To stay his perfect little puppet. I know, however, he’s trying to make me see the error in my decision.

“I understand. Who better to understand than your other half?”

The tip of the knife presses into my skin, the slice causing me to cry out.

He never looks away from my face, not even to see how deep he’s cut me.

Even though I have to fight the urge, I don’t look at the wound. Breathing through the sting, I moan when he pulls the tip back out of my body.

“A man like me needs more than kind words to sate his dark urges, Grace. I need action.”

I bob my head in understanding. “I know.”

He finally turns and looks at the blood trickling out of the wound, and I sneak a glance downward. It’s not deep, only a flesh wound, but the way he’s looking at it has my pussy throbbing.

“You were already my perfect puppet—the epitome of flawless, darling girl. Now…” he trails off, reaching up and running his hand through my blood.

Lifting his hand to his face, he inhales deeply, getting high off the metallic scent.

“Now, what?” I breathe, enlivened by his response.

“Now, my puppet, you’re a fucking masterpiece.”

When he makes his second cut, I let my head loll back, and a feeling of release washes over me. I’m safe in his hands, even when there’s a blade in them.

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