Page 64 of The Devil's Hunt

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TWENTY-FIVE

MILA

With a cold, calculated fury burning in my chest, Archer untied me and carried me into the bathroom, gently laying me in the warm, soothing water of the bathtub. I wouldn't admit it, but as much as I reveled in being bound and teased by him, a part of me seethed with anger at him. It was the fact that he teased me repeatedly, bringing me to the brink of orgasm, then stopping. I'd done everything he asked of me and more, yet he continued to test me.

And I was angry.

One thing I'd always been good at was being patient, but Ineededto get even. But the last time I tried to get even, I ended up drugged, tied up, and chased through the woods before committing murder and smashing Emily's brains out.

Clearly, I had issues.

He cleaned me and then brought me back to bed. And when he left to have Gage stitch his hand, I decided to take back control. He needed to know who he was dealing with. So, I slid the knife he had used on me underneath my pillow, and I waited.

I waited until he came back into the room, pretending to be asleep.

I waited until he settled beside me, wrapping his arm around me like nothing had happened.

I waited until his breathing slowed and soft snores filled the bedroom.

And then I waited just a few minutes more.

When I felt satisfied that he was in a deep sleep, I reached my hand under my pillow, listening for any change in his breathing. The handle was cold and sticky in my hand, a reminder of what he had done to me with it.

I didn't hate it though.

There was something primal and twisted about fucking me with a knife. Smearing his blood all over me and forcing me to come when he wanted me to. And I couldn’t explain how good it felt to be used. To be at his mercy. But also, I wasn’t a weak bitch anymore, and he needed to learn that I would put up a fight.

I straddled him and pressed the sharp edge of the knife against his throat. He stirred, but I silenced him with a quick thrust of my hips, grinding my entrance against his naked body. His erection grew, but so did my power as I gripped the handle tighter, increasing the pressure of the knife against his throat. His green eyes opened, and I expected him to be shocked, maybe show fear, but his face still wore the calm demeanor I had become familiar with. He made no attempt to take the knife from me. Instead, he gave a mischievous smile like he was turned on.

There was no denying how much he craved the violence.

"A knife? Are you flirting with me, Mila?"

"No."

His question caught me off guard. He was enjoying this. I didn’t know how he was so calm while his life was quite literally in my hands.

"You know what knives do to me, love," he chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

"I'm returning the favor."

I rolled my hips over him, using my other hand to position his erection at my entrance, and sank down onto him. I gasped becausewe had never done this position before, and at this angle, he went deeper than I had expected. His hands reached for my hips, but I stopped him by pressing the knife deeper into his skin, drawing blood.

He was right; I did know what knives did to him. It was one of the things that drove me wild about him. That, and the fact that he could reduce me to a quivering wreck with just a look or a touch. But after his stunt earlier, I wasn't going to let him win. I would show him that I was just as powerful as he was.

I rode him hard, my movements sharp and precise, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room. I couldn't help but get lost in the sensation of him inside me. The cool metal of the knife against his throat grounded me, reminding me of my plan.

As I moved closer to climax, I could feel his cock twitching inside me, and he began to moan, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He knew he was losing control, but he didn't fight it.

"That's it, baby. Fuck me like the good girl you are," he groaned, watching me with primal hunger.

I bit down on my lower lip, trying to ignore how his words made me tremble. At that moment, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him, and there was no going back. I slid down harder, my orgasm building with each passing second. He could feel it, too, because his hands gripped the pillow behind him, his breath growing harsher. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing with the force of it. Archer tensed beneath me, holding his breath, and in one swift motion, I lifted myself off of him, refusing to let him come.

"Next time you think I'm weak, remember this moment," I told him, pushing off the bed and taking a few steps backward to watch his reaction. I expected the incredulous look on his face as he lay there, dick still hard and panting, but what I didn't expect was when his eyes darkened, and he slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, watching me like a wolf stalked its prey. I lifted the knife in a defensive position because all the hair on the back of my neck stood up. He was menacing, but god, if he wasn't fucking beautiful.

He didn't say anything as he stood up, slowly approaching me. Isuddenly became aware of how easily he could take me apart with one swift movement.

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