Page 88 of Bird on a Blade

He thrusts deeper into my mouth, nearly choking me. I groan, knowing the vibration of my throat drives him crazy. I’m rewarded with a sharp, rattling clatter as he drops the knife to the tile.

“Jesus, you’re such a good little cocksucker.” His fingers tighten against my head, gathering my hair into his fist. His praise makes me whimper even as I’m choking on his dick.

He lets out a loud, raspy sigh and yanks his cock out of my mouth, a thin, glistening string of spit connecting me to him in the process. Then he pulls me up by my hair, pressing me against the humming refrigerator. I gaze up at his blood-splattered mask, wet lips parted, my body burning for him.

“I know you want this,” he growls. “With that little show you put on for me.”

I whimper like it’s not true—like I’m afraid, like I’m the first victim in one of thoseBlood Raisersmovies. Sawyer shifts toward me, his cock digging into my thigh, and presses the rubber of his mask against the side of my face.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” He squeezes one of my breasts over my dress, running his thumb over my sharp nipple. “You want my big killer’s cock in that tight pussy of yours?”

“No!” I cry, even though I’m currently humping his hip.

Sawyer chuckles, a raspy, ominous sound that drenches the inside of my thighs. Then he turns me around, pressing my cheek against the fridge. He knocks my legs apart and hikes my dress up around my waist, revealing my bare ass to the cool air of our house. I gasp out feigned protests, squirming my hips like I’m trying to escape. Sawyer grabs me hard, digging his fingers deep into my flesh, and forces me to go still.

He presses his cock against my entrance and laughs again.

“Oh, you are wet for me, my little victim.” Then he thrusts hard, shoving his full length inside my cunt. I scream in pleasure, arching back into him.

He drops all pretense the second he’s inside me. “Edie,” he moans against the back of my neck, his breath warm on my skin. “Fuck, I needed this.”

Then he fucks me, hard and fast and frantic. The sound of our slapping skin fills up the room. Sawyer grunts and bottoms out inside me, filling me so deeply that it’s almost painful. Almost.

He shifts around behind me and then nuzzles his face against my neck, his mask gone. I tilt my head toward him, catching his mouth in a kiss, and he begins to thrust again, slamming me up against the refrigerator even as his tongue moves slow and sensual through my mouth. When he breaks the kiss, it’s to bite my shoulder, notching his teeth into the scar he left the first time we fucked.

I’m desperate to come, and I reach down to touch my clit. But Sawyer knocks my hand away and takes over, rubbing it with his gloved fingers. It’s always so much, having his hand on my clit and his cock in my cunt. The double sensation sends fire rising inside me, and I thrash against him, moaning and shaking.

“That’s it,” he rasps, quickening his pace. “That’s it. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“I’m close,” I gasp out. “So… close…”

“How about now?” And then he presses his thumb hardagainst my clit at a very particular angle that completely unravels me. All the strength goes out of my body, and I’m wedged between Sawyer and the refrigerator, quaking with pleasure.

“Fuck me, but that feels fucking good.” His thrusts sharpen, shudder, become more erratic. “God, I love making you come.”

I thrust back against him, overwhelmed by the sensation of his slick, hard cock filling my overstimulated pussy. I know he’s close, and I want to feel the heat of his cum inside me. “Spill in me,” I gasp out. “I need your cum, Sawyer. I need it so fucking ba?—”

I don’t finish because he does, jittering his pelvis up against my ass and roaring out his pleasure. He sinks his fingers so deeply into my hips that I feel the delicious pinprick of his nails. I slump back against him, his wet jacket cool against my lust-heated skin.

Sawyer nuzzles me and wraps his arms around my waist. “I will never get tired of coming home to that,” he murmurs.

I catch his gloved hand and braid our fingers together, then pull it up so I can brush kisses against his knuckles. He pulls me around and guides me out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and then our bedroom. I’m too boneless to protest.

He tosses me on the bed, and I giggle and I roll over to look up at him, flushed and happy. The storm’s still raging outside, but it doesn’t scare me anymore. Not with him here.

“I was so worried about you,” I tell him. “So was Smoke.”

Sawyer shrugs out of his jacket, then sits on the edge of the bed and pries off his boots, tossing them across the floor. Then he stretches out on his side, and I roll over to face him. He pulls off his gloves and brushes his fingers against my cheek.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he says softly. “I’m a nightmare. Storms like this are where I belong.”

Then he kisses me, the soft slow kisses he always gives me when he’s happy. When I’m happy.

The mattress flutters; it’s Smoke, jumping up to nudge againstSawyer’s hand. He pets her distractedly, but his eyes are fixed on mine.

“This was a perfect fucking day,” he says.

I roll my eyes; only Sawyer would say that in the middle of a tropical storm. But honestly, now that he’s home safe, now that he’s made me come and planted his seed inside me, I can’t disagree with him.

Smoke tightrope walks along Sawyer’s legs and then curls herself into a ball on the ledge of his hips. Sawyer sighs like he’s annoyed, but I know he likes it. I do, too, our entire family tangled together in the warmth and light of our little house by the sea.

A predator, a predator’s pet, and his perfect prey.

The End

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