Page 52 of Tarek

But Tarek feels it. The way I shudder, the way I swallowed that moan.

“Don’t fucking hold back,” he growls, his lips dragging against my neck “Moan for me, treasure. Let them all hear who’s making you wet. Let them hear who owns this perfect pussy.”

His hand slips down my belly to the opening of my thighs. “So fucking hot.”

“Tarek,” I gasp, my back arches as he presses hard through the fabric right against my clit.

“Shit.” He rolls to the side and digs into his pocket. The metallic click of a switchblade. The sound cuts through the room, sending shivers down my spine.

“Close your eyes,” he commands “Hold still.”

Then I feel blade, hints of cold metal trace my inner thigh. A soft hiss of fabric tearing follows. The cool air of the room rushes between my legs as the blade slices through my panties and jumpsuit like they’re nothing.

“Did you cut my underwear and my jumpsuit?”

“I will Zelle you reparation.” His lips curl against my neck. “Now Hold. Fucking Still.”

He sinks his teeth in my throat, biting down hard enough to make me cry out.

How does he expect me to hold still when he brings the tip of the knife and drags it up to my neck? The point presses into my clavicle, creating a hint of pain.

“Tarek?” my voice trembles.

“Shhh. Do you trust me?” he whispers.

All I can do is nod, swallowing hard.

The blade slides lower, dragging down the curve of my breast, circling my nipples slow enough to make me tremble. Down my stomach. Down, down until the blade teases my inner thigh.

He flips the switchblade in his hand, positioning the polished handle in front of my pussy while the blade balances between his fingertips.

I jump as he presses the cold handle against my clit.

His free hand clamps down my breast, pinching my nipple. “I said hold still.”

He rubs the handle against me, slow, wet circles, grinding the smooth weight of it over my clit. I can’t help the soft sound that slips from me.

“You feel that treasure?” He groans grinding his cock against my ass, harder now, slower.

He presses the handle against my entrance. He pushes the tip in, barely teasing, just enough to feel a stretch.

“Fuck Treasure,” Tarek voice breaks “Look how easy your pussy takes it.”

My fingers grip the sides of his legs as he slowly presses the handle into me. I should be screaming running the other way.

Instead, I bring my hands up to breast and Tarek slows begins to fuck me with the handle of his blade.

“You want more?” His voice is low and dangerous.

“Yes. Please Tarek.” My juices make that slopping sound with each light thrust of the knife.

“That’s my Treasure. Beg for it.”

“Oh shit. Please, fuck give me more.”

“That’s my Treasure,” his voice is infused with lust “You ask so pretty when you’re needy.”

I turn to see Tarek’s gaze fixed on me as I undulated on his knife.

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