Page 94 of Bake the Town Red

The shock on his face only lasts for a moment. With the blade against his skin, Tyler keeps pummeling into me. Harder. More painful. Like he’s determined to ruin me. Bruise me from the inside. Brand my pussy with his dick.

“Please,” I beg him for more while keeping my hand steady. The knife shines against his throat.

His eyebrows lower. Hands on my neck.

“It’s cute”—grunt—“how you think you can scare me with that.”

The warmth of his body seeps into mine. His cock rubs that spot that—oh my fucking Satan, it’s so good.

Then there’s Tyler himself. God of wrath. He fucks me like one. Loves me like one.

While the blade is glued to his Adam’s apple.

Nothing has ever been this beautiful. This hot.

“You’re not scared?”

Smiling is impossible when I’m struggling to catch my breath. My lips are parted, my throat tight. Tyler is everywhere. In my pussy. Grinding his toned body on my clit. Squeezing my neck so I know who my owner is.

“No. You won’t hurt me.” His eyes glide lower. To the blade. A second later, they’re back on my face. “I’ve known you for a while, Dahlia. I’ve—”

Stalked you.

Figured out the people you lure to the back room don’t make it out of there.

Remember the abuse you went through.

“You what?” I stare at him. Apply a tiny bit more pressure on the blade. Nick his skin and see then feel a drop of his blood falling on my chin.

This isn’t a part of the game. This is me silently begging him to come out with it already.

His thumb strokes my tattoo. “Never forgotten what you are.”

I tilt my head up to give him better access. Then I press the knife a little closer.

“Savage,” Tyler grits out, picking up the pace. “My little savage. I didn’t expect anything less from you.”

Another droplet of blood lands on my cheek. My nipples pull tighter at that. Becoming more sensitive.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I am.” Holding me in place, he rubs his blood into my skin with his thumb. “So?”

“You’re okay with that?”

When he cocks an eyebrow followed by a ruthless thrust, all the air whooshes out of my lungs. I don’t think he has any idea how hot he is.

My bottom lip goes dry. I dip my tongue out to wet it, but Tyler is faster.

He leans in to lick my lips for me.

At first, I flex my arm muscles, keep the knife firm where it is. That doesn’t last, though, because Tyler doesn’t back off. He’s determined to get to my lips, even if it means that I’ll sink the knife into his throat. If I end this gorgeous man’s life.

It’ll be a cozy day in heaven before I do that.

So I bend my elbow for him. Moan for him when he bites my bottom lip. Licks off a new drop of his blood that’s slipped while he’s lowered his lips to mine.

“That’s a fucking turn-on, Dahlia. To have you cut me.” The scowl on Tyler’s face should be frightening. It probably would, to anyone else but me. “Even better than fucking you in your sleep. You’re alive. You’re alive and you’re a violent little thing.”

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