Page 71 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Did you think I was going to forget the shit you pulled earlier?” he growled, taking a step closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” My voice cracked.

In a swift motion, he grabbed my legs and spread them apart. I attempted to close them, but my strength was no match to his.

“Put your feet flat on the counter, and spread them wide for me,” he demanded.

Tears burned in the back of my eyes, but I wouldn’t allow them to fall as I complied. The cold metal of the knife glided across my skin.

“We’re going to play a game,” he began. “For every lie, you’ll bleed. For every truth, I’ll think about making you come.”

I blinked at him.

“Do you understand the rules, Winter?”

I nodded, my throat too dry to speak.

“Good.” He smirked but the expression was wicked. “First question,” he said, then ran the tip of the knife up from my ankle and stopped at mid-calf. “Did you touch him on purpose?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

He watched me closely and trailed the knife higher and stopped at my inner thigh. “When I had my tongue deep inside your cunt, did you think of him?”

“No,” I said without hesitation.

He looked down between my legs and probably saw me getting wet, but it was not for the reason he thought.

His eyes narrowed further, and he pressed the tip deeper into my skin.

“I’m not lying! Stop, Nico!” I tried to move away, but he pulled my leg closer with his free hand.

“Then why are you fucking wet?” He pressed the knife harder.

I didn’t answer, too ashamed to admit that what he was doing turned me on. The tip of the knife cut my skin, and I gasped.

Did he just cut me?

Blood trickled down my leg, and it stung. He slowly inched the knife closer to my crotch and I froze.

My gaze shot upward, locking with his. His striking blue eyes appeared darker than I’d ever seen them—almost sinister.

I’d read enough romance books about knife play but never imagined it would be my reality. And when he parted my pussy lips with the metal blade, it was time to freak out.

“Does this turn you on?” he rasped, his voice low and laced with frustration. His chest was heaving, each breath a struggle as he fought to maintain control.

I remained silent, my body tense, as if a single word could set him off like a bomb.

I sighed in relief when he moved the knife away, but it was short lived. His body loomed over me, and he held the blade, now stained with my blood, to my neck. A wave of panic rushed through me, pulsating wildly in my veins.

He guided the tip to my tie, slicing through the fabric. I tried to keep my breath steady as he continued torturing me. With quick motions, the knife tore through the middle of my shirt, ripping it open.

I drew in a sudden, shaky breath, my heart pounding against my chest in fear. He widened the gap until my bra was exposed. His eyes drifted up to my face, and he watched me with hunger, the same expression he had when his face was between my legs.

Without taking his eyes off me, he brought the knife to my bra and moved it in a circular motion until the cup of my bra was removed. The cold air formed goosebumps on my skin.

Nico lowered his head, wrapped his full lips over my hard nipple, and sucked. My back arched in pleasure, and I felt him hardening against my core. Frustration crept in and a moan escaped me. I ground my hips into him, seeking relief.

Nico pulled back and sucked on the other breast—hard. His teeth grazed the top of my breast, and then bit down.

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