Page 64 of Bleed for Me

“Do you really hate me so much that you won’t even put me out of my misery?” I demanded, the words coming out more choked than intended.

From the moment I woke up today, my mind had been set on this. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had suicidal thoughts at all since Daisy’s death, but I’d pushed them away, too scared to focus on them. My nightmare reminded me of everything and told me the cold hard truth. I was a monster. Something in my mindshattered with that dream. There was no such thing as good and evil, not in the black and white sense. We were all people, and we were all capable of both good and bad things. You were only bad if all you did were bad things, and you were only good if all you did were good things.

Seven rounded on me. “You’re accusing me of hating you because I won’t kill you. God Rosalie, do you even know what the fuck you’re asking me to do?”

I knew it sounded crazy, but I didn’t care. He agreed to meet me here tonight with the intent of killing me. If he refused to do it, I’d provoke him until he did.

“Why is it so difficult for you?” I shot back. “I know you’ve had to have thought about it at least once. I’m giving you the chance.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his white hair. “Fucking crazy bitch.”

That was fair. He could call me whatever the hell he wanted to as long as the result ended the same. But he didn’t know my story. He had two loving parents that always visited him every week. They shelled out money whenever he asked them to. I didn’t have anyone. He wouldn’t know what that was like.

I was determined to make this happen. I’d already accepted it, already said my goodbyes to this life. I was tired of hurting, tired of betraying Alex, tired of mourning, and tired of being completely and utterly alone and helpless.

If he wouldn’t do it, then I would.

I lunged forward, snatching the knife from his grasp and pressed it against my neck. His eyes widened, full of panic, like he couldn’t comprehend why I was so set on doing this.

Closing my eyes, I allowed a single tear to drift down my cheek before I applied more pressure. A trickle of blood started running down my throat along with a sharp pinch of pain. It wasn’t a deep cut; it had only broken through the surface of myskin. I knew I wouldn’t die doing it like this, but if I managed to slice an important artery, there was a chance. Cutting deeper this time, more blood coated my neck. I took in one last deep breath of oxygen, knowing it was the last time I’d taste it before?—

My eyes snapped open as something hard collided with my body and I hit the ground hard, my back plastered to the dirt with Seven on top of me. There was a manic look in his eye as he pried the weapon from my grasp.

No.

“Why?” I choked out, a sob racking through me.

“I don’t fucking know. But you’re not going to die here.”

My head spun with his words but before I could focus on them, his lips came crashing down on mine. Instinctively, I wound my arms around him, tugging him closer, unable to fight this connection—the way he felt pressed against me, the way his mouth devoured mine like our souls yearned for one another. It was wrong, messed up, and shouldn’t be happening. We were from two different worlds, even outside of this place our lives were vastly different. Maybe that was the appeal. In here, we could be equals.

He broke the kiss, running his lips down the side of my face and then down my jaw. My hands drifted through his hair; the knife long gone. For right now, I didn’t care. When his lips found my neck, he sucked the blood from my skin, groaning from the taste alone.

It shouldn’t have turned me on. He was getting off from my blood and I fucking liked it. It was hot, erotic, even taboo. It didn’t matter that he’d killed a girl doing this same thing. If he accidentally killed me, then he fulfilled our agreement, and I couldn’t be too mad about that.

“Cut me.” I breathed, not even recognizing my own voice.

He tensed, his eyes drifting to meet mine. “Rosalie—” he started with hesitance, but I was quick to cut him off, bucking my hips to meet his hard erection.

“Do it,” I growled, digging my nails into his back through his shirt.

“Goddamn. Okay.”

He leaned back, grabbing the knife where he’d deposited it. His eyes were glazed over with hunger, with bloodlust, and he’d never looked sexier. He cut through the fabric of my shirt and tugged the scraps from my body, his hands working fast like he couldn’t get to my body fast enough. When he reached my bra, he cut that from me, too. A gust of cool air wafted over me, hardening my nipples instantly.

We were so caught up in this bubble we were in that nothing else mattered. But like all bubbles, it would eventually pop, and we’d be thrown right back into reality.

He tore my skirt from my hips, discarding the fabric to the side and then cut through my thong.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he panted, taking one of his hands and palming my breast.

My heart sped up with the compliment. Seeing the hunger in his eyes as he looked over every inch of my body with admiration, feeling his hand against my breast as his thumb ran over my nipple. There was nothing like it. I felt powerful.

He took the blade, dropping his hand from my breast and he lined the sharp point up with my shoulder, pressing into the skin until it drew blood. I winced slightly from the sting, but his mouth was immediately on top of it, turning the pain into pleasure. A breathy moan slipped from my lips, my legs moving to rest over his hips. His jeans brushed against my pussy, his erection pressing into my clit. A growl erupted from his chest, vibrating against me.

Leaning back again, he pressed the tip of the blade to my other shoulder and repeated the action. My body shuddered against him with the swipe of his tongue.

He cut me a few more times, and then tossed the knife in the grass with restraint, like it was taking everything in him not to keep going. I was breathing heavily, completely caught up in this newkink.

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