Page 44 of Silent Stalker

"Never wrong, my goddess." I lean in, capturing her lips with mine. Our kiss is hungry, fueled by the raw desire building between us. My hands find her hips, pulling her against me so she can feel the evidence of my desire.

She moans into my mouth, and I slip my tongue between her lips, tasting her, claiming her. My hands move to the ropes binding her, quickly unraveling them. Her arms wrap around my neck as I lift her, still kissing her deeply.

The kiss is fiery, igniting something primal within me. But as much as I want to take her right here, I have something else in mind for my beautiful goddess.

I lift her with ease, cradling her against my chest as I carry her further into the darkness of the barn. Her arms tighten around my neck, clinging to me like she never wants to let go. I kick aside some stray hay, creating a soft bed for us. Loweringher onto the hay, I admire how the moonlight illuminates her flawless skin, beautifully marked by only me.

A soft whimper escapes her as I step away. I chuckle darkly, understanding her concern. The role of the dominant and submissive has shifted between us during this game of cat and mouse. She's not sure what to expect anymore, and that excites me.

My fingers close around the cool, familiar handle of my knife tucked in my jacket pocket. The moonlight glints off the blade as I draw it slowly, watching the play of emotions on Clara's face. Her eyes widen, and she shifts backward, suddenly aware of the potential danger. I inhale sharply at the sight, my body thrumming with desire.

"Silas, what—are you going to hurt me?" Her voice trembles, and she tries to scoot away, her back hitting the barn wall. I see the conflict in her eyes—fear battling the dark desires that drew her to me in the first place.

I take a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between us, my eyes never leaving hers. "Do you want me to?"

Her breath quickens, and her chest rises and falls tantalizingly. "I—I don't know. I'm torn, Silas. I don't know what I want anymore."

"You crave to yield, Clara. To let the shadows envelop you." I glide the blade along her skin, relishing the way goosebumps rise in its wake. "You long to be possessed, owned.”

Her eyes fall to the blade, watching it with fear and fascination. I move closer, my free hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. "I'm going to brand you, Clara. Etch my initials into your skin. That's what I want."

Clara's eyes snap back to mine, horror and desire swirling in their emerald depths. "You want to—mark me?"

"Yes." The word is a growl torn from the depths of my soul. "I want to mark you as mine. So that everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me."

Clara's eyes shine with a wild light, reflecting the moon's silvery glow. The faint scent of her arousal fills the air, spiking my desire. I know she's teetering on the edge of submission—ready to embrace the darkness we both crave.

"Brand me, Silas," she breathes, her voice laced with hesitation and desire. "Make me yours."

The knife feels lighter in my hand, as if it, too, is eager to leave its mark on her perfect skin. I lean closer, my lips brushing her ear. "Are you sure, Clara? There's no going back from this."

Her answer is a soft whimper as she leans into me, pressing her body against mine. "I'm sure. I need this, Silas. I need you to claim me."

I step back, unable to resist the temptation any longer. "Turn around, then. Present yourself to me."

Obediently, she turns, offering her back to me. Her skin is a canvas; I'm the artist, ready to etch my mark into her flesh. Slowly, I run the tip of the blade down her spine, listening to her sharp intake of breath. Her skin is flawless, a blank slate waiting for my signature.

"Tell me where you want it," I demand, my voice rough with desire. "Where do you want my brand, Clara?"

She hesitates, and for a moment, I wonder if she's having second thoughts. But then she surprises me. "On my ass, Silas," she says, her voice laced with a boldness I haven't heard before.

A growl escapes my throat as my cock twitches in response to her words. Marking her like this is a declaration of possession—a symbol of my dominion over her.

"Get on your hands and knees for me," I order.

She obeys, getting down on her hands and knees, obediently presenting her body to me. Her desire fuels my own, and I stepcloser, pressing myself against her. I can feel the heat of her skin, her breath quickening as she anticipates what's to come.

Slowly, I drag the knife along the curve of her ass, relishing the way she shivers at the touch. Her skin is a canvas; I'm the artist, creating a masterpiece with my blade. With steady hands, I start to etch my initials into the soft flesh of her ass, making sure the marks are deep enough to leave a permanent scar.

Her breath quickens as the blade digs into her flawless skin, and I graze her soft flesh. She squirms, letting out a soft moan that fills the barn. I drag the knife slowly, methodically, letting her feel the thrill of each cut.

"Your skin is so soft, Clara," I whisper, my lips close to her ear. "Like silk. I want to sign my name on every inch of you, brand you as mine so there is no mistaking who you belong to."

Clara pushes her ass back toward me, her anticipation palpable. I smile, knowing she's enjoying this as much as I am.

“You want my cock in you? Is that what my goddess needs?” I purr at her.

In reply, she arches her back, the movement sending a trickle of her blood down her pale skin.

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