Page 72 of Rage

He grinned, drawing close to her again.

“Knives are much better. You have more control, more precision.”

Batya gasped when he dragged the tip of the knife between her breasts. Feeling bold, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. As she captured his soft lips, the knife pricked her skin. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped him.

His blood was rust and salt on her tongue. Castille pulled away with a grin.

“Fast learner, I see.”

He licked the blood from his lip and pulled her head back by her braids. Batya groaned when he dipped his tongue between her breasts to lap at the drop of blood sliding down her chest.

“Okay, let’s get these off you before things get messy.”

Batya yanked her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. Her heart was hammering as it did before a battle. Castille pulled his pants down, exposing his phallus. Even at half-mast, it was impressive.

Eager to have more of him, she stripped out of the rest of her clothes quickly. He took her hand and led her to the bed. Batya looked up at him expectantly.

“What happens now?”

Castille placed the knives on the table beside his bed. The mattress dipped when he knelt between her legs.

“Now we see what else you like.”

He retrieved the knives and ran them up the inside of each of her thighs. Batya sighed, feeling her core muscles pulse. She kept still though conflicting feelings zipped through her body. If she twitched just a little bit, just enough for the knife to break the skin…

“Do you like that?”

“Yes. More, please.”

Castille followed the knives’ trails with his tongue. Wetness pooled between her legs.

“Castille,” she moaned.

He nicked the side of her knee and a small bubble of blood formed. Castille kissed it, gently sucking on the cut. As he licked the wound, he dipped the knife’s hilt into her wet core. Batya gasped. It felt forbidden and glorious at the same time.

When she started to roll her hips from the pleasure, Castille moved the knife to slowly rub its hilt on her hardening clitoris. Coated with her juices, it slid easily against her engorged bud.

Batya grabbed his hair and pulled him away.

“I want to taste you.”

Castille stuck out his tongue like he’d done in the dining area. With Batya’s knife taking the place of a butter knife, blood pooled in the middle of his tongue.

Carefully, he bent forward. Batya opened her mouth eagerly. When his tongue slid past her lips, his blood dripped to the back of her throat. She swallowed greedily. As the bleeding slowed, she sucked his tongue.

Moaning, Batya buried her hand in his hair, deepening their embrace. His chest rubbed against her rock hard nipples. Without breaking their kiss, Castille shifted. His thick manhood probed the entrance of her wet centre.

He rocked his hips back and drove into her, smothering her cries of ecstasy with his mouth. Batya raised her hips to meet him, her ankles crossed behind his ass. Locking his arms, Castille pulled away to hold her gaze.

“God, Batya, where’ve you been all this time?”

“You should have come for me sooner.”

Castille snickered and drove into her harder. Batya rolled her nipples between her fingers, heightening the pleasure building in her core.

“Oh, shit, that’s sexy.”

Batya couldn’t reply. She was on the brink of a blistering orgasm. The climax splintered her mind and body, making her writhe beneath him. For the first time during sex, she screamed the name of the man bringing her unrivalled pleasure.

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