Page 22 of Save Me

My gaze lands on Argent, and a sinister smirk forms on my lips. “Didn’t take you for a milkshake type of man,” I tease, eliciting chuckles from everyone.

His eyes lock with mine, and his tongue glides across his lips as he moistens them before responding, “For you, I’ll be any type of man you want.” His voice drops low, causing my insides to melt as his hand firmly grasps mine.

“Save it for the bedroom, alright?” Demitri interjects, triggering laughter from all of us.

It was great to have seen everyone and spent quality time with the people I cherish the most. I am still in awe that Argent went to such lengths to arrange everything just for me. His ability to surprise me never fails. Showing me a side of him I didn’t know existed.

Sitting at his desk, patiently waiting for him to finish showering, I couldn’t help but snoop through hisdrawers. Not because I want to see what he’s hiding, but, well—I’m bored.

As I sifted through his drawers, my eyes were met with nothing of interest until I reached the final one. A glimmer of metal caught my attention, drawing me closer.

His knife.

Slowly, I wrap my hand around the handle, retrieving the blade from the drawer. The dim light in the room reflected off the polished metal, creating a mesmerizing play of shadows.

This very knife had left its mark on me. It had been inside me. Memories of that intense night rushed back, igniting a fiery sensation that coursed through my body. Taking a deep breath, I delicately traced my fingertips along the cool surface of the blade.

I want him. I want to have what we did without the overwhelming feeling of being trapped or losing control.

Control.

At that moment, an idea materialized in my mind. That’s what I needed. I needed to be in control. Ineeded to be the one that decides what happens at my own pace.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Argent standing there, clad only in a towel that hung low on his hips. His tattoo-covered upper body glistened with water droplets, his damp raven hair framing his face. My breath hitched at the sight of him.

His emerald eyes locked onto mine, freezing in place. He stared at me, his gaze intense, as I sat perched on top of the desk, clutching his knife.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he slowly approaches me. I can see the confusion wash over his face as I begin to speak.

“I remember that night so well,” I start, a smirk forming on my lips. “How you… teased me with this little knife of yours.” The room is filled with a tense silence as I lower the knife, the cool metal grazing my stomach.

“Little?” His amusement is evident in his own smirk now forming.

“Mhm,” I respond, my voice laced with a mixture of desire and defiance. The tip of the handle teases between my legs, causing his smirk to falter.

“Star—” he tries to protest, taking a step towards me, but I halt him with a firm command. “Don’t.” He stops in his tracks, standing before me with a mix of anticipation and hesitation in his eyes.

I meet his gaze, slowly pulling my underwear to the side, baring myself to him for the first time in over a year. His eyes immediately drop to the sight before him, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallows hard. He remains motionless, his intense gaze fixed on me.

With my eyes locked on his, I trace the handle of the blade between my legs, gasping as the coolness sends shivers through my sensitive flesh, spreading the wetness.

Without hesitation, I push the knife into myself, my moan strained and desperate. The need for more overwhelms me, and I grip the blade tightly, wincing at the stinging sensation against my fingers. The pace quickens, and the room fills with a symphony of moans, breaking the silence.

“You’re hurting yourself,” he mutters, taking a step closer, but I halt him, placing my free hand firmly on his chest. My eyes momentarily flicker to the blade inmy hand, blood trickling down my fingers, but I ignore it.

When my gaze locks back onto him, he falls to his knees, gripping the desk beside me with both hands. His eyes are locked on the mesmerizing sight of his knife sliding effortlessly in and out of me.

“Fuck.” A breathless whisper escapes his lips, his knuckles turning white as he tightly grasps the desk, his desire evident in every strained breath.

With a deliberate slowness, I pull the knife out, holding it out towards him. The gleaming blade catches the dim light, casting an ominous glint.

“Just a little taste,” I whisper, fixating my gaze on him. He meets my eyes for one last fleeting moment before his tongue darts out and delicately licks the handle, glistening with my arousal. A deep growl resonates from his chest with each tantalizing taste.

As he rises, his towering figure looms over me as I remain seated on the desk, his eyes dilated, obscuring the once vibrant green hue. Sliding off the polished wooden surface, I place both hands on his chest, steadily guiding him backward until he collapses onto the soft mattress.

I turn and head to his closet, and without having to search for too long, I spot exactly what I was looking for. But my attention is caught by something else. Stacked up in the top of his closet, are a few weapons—guns, all different types.

Why would he have these? I've never seen him with one before. Deciding to let it go, I grasp two of his ties and return to where he lies on the bed. His gaze remains fixed on me, filled with unwavering intensity, as I prowl around the bed, gently taking hold of his arm and securing it to the bedpost above his head and doing the same to his other arm.

---