Page 50 of The Trick

I’m tempted to drive my foot right into his dick. I even scuff my foot backward about to kick rocks his way, but he makes a move instead.

Confusion spreads as he begins to lower to his knees. I inch back trying to get away from him but his hands reach out for my thighs, pulling me into where he is kneeling in front of me.

My breathing feels sporadic, like my heart is beating so fast it’s going to shatter my lungs, and I don’t like it. I feel queasy and it’s not because of the meds he gave me to knock me out. I feel like there’s been a shift, a plea in his movements.

I watch in horror as his scruffy, chiseled, disgustingly handsome, mask face rounds the corner of my hips followed by inked fingers tearing at the seams of my fishnet stockings.

“Wha–” I begin but I can’t speak, I can’t move as I lower my gaze to where his split tongue now dances at my side. Vicious strokes of forked tongue graze and tickle my flesh causing prickles to form throughout my body sharp as a knife.

“What–” I repeat, but again my words are halted, this time by his index finger that’s pressed over top of my lips.

“Ssh,” he murmurs. “Don’t ruin it byrunning that mouth of yours,” he mutters, sounding as conflicted as I feel. This,us. Whateverthiseven is between us is wrong, but his touch on my skin, our bodies so close to each other,it feels right and it’s unsettling, horrid even.

His finger moves from my lips, trailing its way down my body until it hovers just above where I can feel my pussy aching for him. I hinge my hips forward but, like the sadist he is, he removes the hand that was just lingering near my entrance. It disappears from where I peer down at him.

“Don’t you dare,” he begins, squeezing my ass. “Don’t you fucking dare mutter a word unless it’s my name as you come.” His words are followed by two harsh slaps on my ass. The second whip of his hand is harder than the first.

He moves his hand from where he reprimanded my bottom, to his mouth. Gazing up at me, he slowly brings the pad of his thumb to his tongue. I watch, hypnotized, as his tongue swirls around his digit. Moving his dampened finger to one of the half-finished pumpkin tattoos on my thigh, he swipes his thumb back and forth against my inked flesh. A seductive grin spreads across his face as he marks me with his saliva. The more I feel his spit smear against my flesh, the more I feel the power I try to hold over him wither.

“What I’m about to do to you is going to sting.” He groans, finally stopping his little spit shine on my thigh. “It’s going to hurt,” he continues, now trailing the tip of the knife up my shin with a killer precision. “But it’s going to knock something off that depraved bucket list of yours.” He stops, the tip of the knife now centered on my tattoo.

My pussy pulses as I watch him begin to plant soft kisses around where he just spread his saliva moments before. He continues to kiss my leg slowly until his teeth slip past his lips, sinking into my supple flesh before the long, separated muscles of his tongue begin to flick against my skin until it meets the edge of the blade that teases me. With the promise of bloodshed on the horizon, I sink into this feeling of being wanted, reveling in it, because I finally feelsomething.

He releases a moan that vibrates against my skin as heswipes his devil’s tongue across his lips. “Remember, no matter how good it feels. No matter how hard you come from feeling the knife graze your skin. I still hate what you did to me just like how I’m disgusted by what youcontinueto do to me. But none of it compares to how much I would hate myself if I didn’t take this opportunity to have your blood on my tongue.”

His words feel like a summoning, just like his blade feels like the only heaven I will ever know. Its sharp edge robs me of the numb normality I am forced to live in daily, making me feel alive, making mehis. The more the steel nicks my flesh, the more I realize that this is true communion. Trading pain for pleasure, annihilating guilt in the form of blood that’s willing to comfort my twisted soul, not condemn it. His hatred brought us here, but the games that we indulge ourselves in, even if fueled by demons, are what keeps us coming back for more, until there is nothing left.

The cool blanket of dark air around us nips at where he pivots the tip of his knife. My gaze falls to where he is carving a jagged mouth on my pumpkin tattoo. My skin stings and as rivulets of blood follow his blade, I feel arousal nestle itself at my clit all over again. With each careful nick and cut he makes, it’s as if he is rubbing the bundle of nerves that lay restless, missing his touch. I’ve never felt this before. It’s like a phantom is consuming me as he works the knife on me.

Again, he hums against my skin, his deep tone ricocheting through my body.

“Hmmm, that’s it hellcat. Bleed for me,” he rasps, running his tongue against where my crimson has slid down my leg. Seeing my blood on his tongue as he toes the line of praise and debauchery is one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed.

CHAPTER 22

This is depraved. Here I am, on my fucking knees, branding her with my knife and she’s moaning like my tongue is deep in her pussy…again, instead of where it’s lapping the crimson that drips onto her thigh.

I may be fucking sick for doing this to her but she’s just as fucking sick for liking it.

Judging by the way I can smell her arousal building as the sharpened steel continues to break the delicate barrier of her skin, she more than likes it…she loves it. Just like I knew my good little hellcat would.

I bet if I stop right now– mid carving– she’d be moaning my name, begging me for more. Fuck, just the thought of her panting and needy makes even more blood rush to my cock. She’s so sexy when she’s angry and flustered, it’s why I’ll never tire of playing these games with her.

Angling the knife upward, I carefully drag the tip to finish the jagged smile on her tattoo. Droplets of blood gather from each broken seam of her flesh, making her somehow look even more delicious than she already does.

Like a vulture craving its prey, I extend my tongue to where the tip of the knife grazes her thigh. Flicking the forked flesh onto the edge of the smile I just etched into her skin, I peer up at her reveling in the way her body melts under my sadistic touch.

I hear her try to stifle a needy moan as I lick up her wound. Pressing a gentle kiss on her bloodied flesh, I part my lips to speak. “You liked that, didn't you little hellcat?” I ask, my gaze glued onto her.

Her lip’s part as her chest heaves from the twisted pleasure that is coursing through her veins, but she doesn’t answer.

Dragging the pad of my torn tongue, I continue licking her blood, its iron tang mixed with the already sweet taste of her skin is intoxicating. “Answer me,” I command, dropping the knife to the ground as my teeth press into her thigh. She yelps, but again, it sounds like it’s more out of pleasure than pain.

Grabbing hold of her ass with both hands, I squeeze at her supple flesh, feeling myself become rock hard with need.

Another moan escapes her lips, this time louder and more primal.

“Oh, little hellcat,” I begin to taunt. “Answer me,” I command as my palm sears itself to her ass, spanking it.

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