Page 50 of Vengeful Lies

“Don’t take it personally when I have to kill you, okay?” I say breathlessly.

His fingers possessively feather through my hair, and he holds me captive with a devilish smile. “You can try to kill me as many times as you want. Nothing is keeping me away from this pussy that belongs tome.”

And then his lips are on mine. An explosion of stimulation bombards me as his primal nature meets mine. His tongue presses against mine, and I’m caged entirely, forced to take him. All of him. It’s not just a kiss; it’s an utter claim.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, a small moan escaping me.

I want him.

I need him.

I need him to calm this fiery buzz under my skin. Everything he touches comes to life. Our mouths are so desperate for each other, it’s like we’re fighting over the same pocket of air.

Fuck. I’m in trouble.

Heat pools at my core as I fight him for dominance in our kiss. I’m shoving up his shirt when I feel cool air on my back as he carries me around to the hood and lays me down on it. He doesn’t break the kiss as he discards his jacket, throwing it to the ground.

I lift my hips as he undoes my jeans. I desperately unbutton his shirt, praying he can calm whatever this reckless energy is within me. I’m feeding off him like he’s the only solution.

Our lips break apart as he yanks down my jeans and drops them next to his jacket. He stands over me, his shirt and hair a mess, as he stares at me like a rabid beast. His nostrils flare when he notices the red lace I’m wearing. My gaze lands on the small sheath strapped at his hip, and he notices.

“Are your claws not enough, Kitten?” he taunts, slowly undoing his belt, teasing me with a leisurely pace I can’t stand. “Show me those beautiful tits.”

“How certain are you that I won’t kill you?” I ask with a wicked grin as I remove my top, revealing the matching red bralette.

He removes the sheath and then his shirt. He continues holding the blade as he pushes down his pants and my pussy floods at the sight of his thick cock. I’ve seen his dick before—even taken numerous photos of it—but it’s not until this moment, with him standing in front of me, that I get my first up close and personal view of it. He’s massive. Veins aggressively bulging under smooth skin.

He purposefully and slowly unsheathes the knife, and my heart rate picks up with the unknown mixture of excitement and danger. I hitch my feet farther up the front of the car so he has a clear view of my soaked panties. He steps between my legs, his gaze sweeping up my body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

My heart falters in surprise.

His thumb firmly presses against the neon blue tattoo on my hip as he stares at all of me as if memorizing every inch. His hand wraps around my waist and grips me tightly as if he’s unable to contain his strength. He raises the blade to the samehip as the tattoo, and I inhale as I watch him slice it through the thin waistband of the panties.

He intentionally pricks the tip of the blade into my skin, and I suck in a breath as a trickle of blood blooms on my skin. I’m so attuned to his every caress, the pinprick momentarily the only thing I can feed on, feeling like a release in itself.

And then he flips the knife in his hand and catches it with ease, offering it to me by the handle.

“I don’t think you’re ready to kill me yet, Kitten,” he says as he holds the knife out to me.

I curl my fingers around it slowly. Everything about me feels so wrapped up in him, as if I don’t know where one of us starts and the other ends because Eli is an enigma. An entity I know I shouldn’t be drawn toward but undeniably am.

As he leans over me, I raise the knife very slowly to his throat, and a sensual smile spreads over his lips. “Why don’t you drop the knife, Kitten, so that I can have my taste.”

I make no move to do as he suggests. And he just leans over farther, edging his throat along the blade. I watch, mesmerized at the small red line that appears at his jugular. But it’s his eyes that draw me back in —a striking silver in the moonlight.

“Something tells me you don’t want me to remove the knife.”

He grins arrogantly as his fingers trail up my inner thigh, and a shudder rolls through me. His lips brush against mine once again, pressing himself harder against the blade in the process.

“I’m almost certain you don’t want to fuck a dead man tonight.”

“Then don’t die,” I sass back, then sharply inhale as he stuffs my pussy with two fingers. His lips crash against mine as he takes my breath, and I’m stimulated by the two new pressures: thirsting, craving, and needing an outlet. All this energy buzzing inside me needs to be purged, and I know Eli is the only one who can take it.

He bites at my lip as the knife knicks him again, a slight growl coming from him, and I moan, hungrily wanting and needing more of that. I edge the knife in deeper, and when I do, his other hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my air supply in warning to not dig any deeper.

I’m being consumed by him as he breathes hotly against my lips. “Look how fucking wet you are for me already, Kitten. Such a good fucking girl.”

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