Page 83 of Good Girl

My stomach clenches with tension, causing the knife to jostle against my pubic bone.

“You will not resist when I move you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Wouldn’t want to risk any more unintentional cuts. Do not move otherwise.”

The way he saysunintentionalcauses my heart to crash wildly around in my chest.

Hunter doesn’t give me a chance to respond or protest. He raises the yet-to-be-positioned hand the same way the first is, but instead of needing me to hold it in place, a thick padded fabric is wrapped around my wrist.

The handcuffs.

He never once stops touching me. Fingertips trace lines up and down my arms, across my back as he transitions to the other wrist. Then down my side as my ankle is given the same treatment.

Something happens down near my free foot, but the restraint doesn’t come. The noise of the chains clinking, like they are being dragged together, starts, then shifts from the ground to up near my wrist.

There is a loud clank, and I feel the vibration through the padding against my chest. Then a hand curves around my thigh and gently pulls until my foot comes off the ground. The knife shifts in my panties, and panic flares as I feel an edge start to press into me.

“Wait, I can’t.” My wrists and shoulders instantly take the weight of my body as a thick strap wraps around the lower part of my thigh near my knee.

Hunter’s body heat disappears from behind me, and I’m left strapped to the cross, partially hanging, partially holding myself up.

I don’t know if my heart can race any faster.

I have no idea where he is, not until fingers pinch my cheeks hard enough to make my lips part. I flinch, but his grip on my face is so tight that I can’t dislodge him.

“Stick your tongue out.”

With only the tiniest amount of hesitation, I force my tongue past my lips and immediately regret it. Something sharp bites right into the tip, shooting fire into my mouth. I choke on a gasp, but that is swallowed as his mouth closes over mine.

Our tongues mingle, a metallic flavor filling my mouth, before he sucks on my tongue, an animalistic growl ripping from his mouth as he pulls away. There is the clank of metal landing on metal, and then I’m alone again.

The seconds stretch. My shoulders start to burn, and I try to shuffle the foot on the ground in just a little. The chain pulls tight after only about an inch, which isn’t nearly enough to help the pain in my arms.

A whole minute passes in complete and utter silence.

The knife against my pussy is feeling heavy in my panties.

“Daddy?” I call out, not at all surprised to hear the tremor in the word. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.

I’m scared. He isn’t really going to hurt me, is he? This is all just a part of the scene, right?

But then I remember, at the beginning, he said I could say red and the scene would end. Yes, this is all a part of the scene. I just need to trust him, like how I trusted Darcy this morning. I need to give in to the fear, like I gave in to the ropes. And even if the others have left, and I am only here with Hunter, there is no way any of them would leave me in danger.

I’m safe. Mostly.

Just as I start to relax and lower my head to see if I can reach the padding there, a warm body presses against my back. Arms come around me, slipping between me and the padding.

I jerk in place and the knife shifts. “Oh, shit.”

The hands work my shirt away from the handle. I stay completely fucking still as the knife is removed from my panties, the pointed tip dragging up and over my pubic bone. My throataches as he takes a step back from me, until I feel the back of the shirt shift. The tip of the blade is placed at the base of the back of my neck.

It starts to slide down my spine, and a sting like a paper cut follows in its path.

I jerk away. “No, don’t.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he braces his forearm against my neck, forcing me against the padding, and places the knife over the shirt again. He begins tracing down my spine over the shirt this time, and the sting is lessened, but it’s still there.

“Daddy, no,” I cry, not wanting to feel the pain. Sweat is breaking out all over my skin, and I’m trembling, fear having burned away any pieces of pleasure.

When he lets go of me, cool air rushes along the skin of my back as the shirt falls to my sides, only attached to my body via the sleeves. I sob with relief when I can’t feel anything more than a slight sting.

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