Page 82 of Good Girl

I’m claiming her.

She’s mine.

Chapter 39

Emery

“Walk forward.” Hunter’s voice is low and rough in my ear.

His fingers are still playing with my clit as I shuffle forward, one-hundred-fucking-percent aware of the knife pressing against my throat.

He wouldn’t actually cut me, would he?

Ravenous hazel eyes flash in my mind as a phantom sting fills my lip.

My heart pounds, and I feel a little lightheaded because, yes. Yes, I do think he will cut me. Is that the plan for this scene? Am I going to bleed for him? Am I going home with more than just the bruises I have been gifted so far?

A streak of pleasure shoots straight up to my belly button as Hunter pinches my clit, causing my steps to falter and the knife to send a tiny little zing across my skin.

I gasp and reach up for the knife. “I—I think you cut me.”

Hunter pauses, and that’s when I feel it. His cock twitches against my ass. Is this turning him on?

Well, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have set up the scene like this. But is my fear or the thought of his knife drawing my blood the reason for his pleasure?

Could it be both?

A thrill runs down my spine at the idea of my fear turning him on. And him loving the sight of my blood… How far will he go? Another nip to my lip? Or are those knives going to slice through my skin?

Then it dawns on me. I’m alone with him. The others all made sure they had their scenes before Hunter.

Holy shit, is there a realistic chance that I’m actually going to be chopped up into little pieces and tossed into the river? I’d been joking with Oakley when I had asked her to tell the police if this exact thing happened.

My skin flushes hot and my breathing increases.

I don’t get a response on the potential cut to my neck, just pressure to the back of my leg with his knee. “Keep moving.”

The heat from his body lines the entire length of my back, and it’s the only thing that is providing me with any direction. I have a feeling we are moving toward the huge ass cross, since that’sthe last thing I can remember seeing before the blindfold cut off my vision.

We keep the shuffling gait that we have established. My hands feel useless as they tremble out in front of me. And my brain is completely fucked up right now because my clit keeps shooting sparks while the skin at my neck burns.

I have no idea which way is fucking up or down right now, but the heat in my pussy is starting to take over the fear.

My fingers bump into something firm but soft, and it takes me a second to fight through the fear clouding my brain to realize it is the padding over the center of the cross.

Here we go.

His cheek presses into the side of my face, his hot breath flowing down my neck and raising goose bumps. “Spread your legs.”

The pressure on the knife eases, slightly, and I shuffle my feet apart.

“Wider.”

Swallowing, I go as wide as I can manage without my muscles screaming.

The hand in my panties slips free, and he grips my wrist, raising my arm and then pressing my palm into the wooden arm of the cross.

A wave of relief floods my system as the knife is removed from my neck, and I feel like I can take an actual deep breath, but it stutters in my throat as both hands return to my panties and the cold steel of the knife slides against my skin beneath the waistband. I’m frozen in place as the knife is positioned point down into the crotch and Hunter’s hands leave my panties.

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