Page 22 of Deadly Wrath

My lips part, ready to fire back with something sharp and sarcastic, but nothing comes out. Just a shaky, traitorous breath. I shake my head, furious with myself, with him, with this whole fucked-up situation.

Alessio moves the blade, trailing slowly down the valley of my breasts. Cold metal moves against overheated skin, but not cutting me… yet. A thrill of danger dances through me as I feel the sharp edge, heightening my awareness of every nerve ending.

He drags the blade lower, the cool edge teasing over my stomach until I suck in a breath. When he reaches my hips, he stops just long enough to flip the knife with the handle toward me now. Alessio never breaks eye contact.

The ruby rivets glide over my skin like a tease, skimming across my clit before settling lower.

Then… God help me, it’s in,and I’m suddenly aware of how my hypersensitive body is acting like a needy little bitch, demanding more.

I bite back a moan, but my hips are traitors, arching into the pressure with zero shame. Like my body decides,yeah, this is happening, and forgot to loop me in.

Fuck it, if I’m going to die tonight, at least I’ll go out on a high.

The tension coils low in my belly with every roll of my hips, my breath quickening as undeniable pleasure takes over.

When I feel the bolster inside me, I gasp and my back arches off the bed. Alessio releases my hands and thrusts in and out of my pussy at a brutal pace. My mouth fallsopen and my pussy clenches around the cold steel. Fuck, I’m so close.

Damn, does it feel good.

Heat radiates between my legs, building with every thrust. I’m breathing fast and ragged, the pleasure is too intense to deny. My hips buck against him, matching his hard rhythm, and I can’t help but cry out. With every thrust, I grow more desperate, chasing a release that feels just out of reach.

Every ounce of common sense I have disappears as I get lost in the moment, caught up in the pleasure he’s giving me. The beast himself is fucking me with a knife. Overriding the voice in my head screaming for me to stop. But the look in his eyes and the tent in his pants tells me he’s enjoying this, too.

The pleasure builds and builds, my stomach tightening, my whole body teetering on the edge. Ecstasy coils tight in my belly, each stroke sending me higher. I’m so close, I can taste it. Then, he stops.

What the actual fuck?

A choked gasp escapes me as he slowly pulls the blade out, leaving me aching and desperate for a release. My hips jerk, my body chasing the friction that’s suddenly gone. But it’s too late. The release I was seconds from crashing into is gone, just like that.

A whimper slips out before I can stop it, and I hate myself for it. I should be pissed. I should be snapping at him, flipping him off, telling him to go straight to hell. But then he lifts the blade to my face. My heart races, my breath catches, caught between wanting to scream and needing to beg.

“Suck it clean,” he commands, pushing the knife to my lips.

I open my mouth without thinking, lips parting, tongue flicking out to taste myself on the cold steel. I swirl my tongue slowly around the embedded stones, the smooth edges feel hard against my lips. This sends a fresh wave of humiliation through me, but I don’t stop.

Alessio watches me unblinking. “Good stalker,” he says before closing the knife and slipping it back into his pocket.

I swallow hard, pushing down the lump forming in my throat. My body is still trembling from just how close he had me and how easily he controlled me. The second he pulled away, it was like being doused in ice water, ripped from the high, and left hanging from whatever the hell that was.

My breath stutters, my skin still burns where he touched me. Only now, it feels like a brand, one I didn’t ask for. My fingers twitch at my sides, itching to shovehim and demand answers, but I don’t. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.

His expression is unreadable, his blue eyes no longer the wildfire that consumed me moments ago. Now they’re cold and detached like I’m nothing more than a momentary distraction he decided to toss aside, which is probably true, but the shift is brutal.

That heat I needed, the fire that kept me anchored to something, is gone. And without it, I feel raw, laid bare in the worst way possible. My body knows it before my brain does—an ache curling in my chest, a twisting knot of something too close to panic. I can’t let him see it. I can’t let him see me fall apart.

“Nothing I do will turn you on?” he taunts, and my stomach turns. “You’re dripping cunt tells another story. It’s practically begging to be fucked, even with the same knife I came in here to kill you with.”

Kill me? How the fuck did I let this happen? I want to say something, anything, but the words are stuck in my throat like Cindy’s bitter bile. I feel sick, not just at him but at myself. I’m disgusting and dirty and need another shower. I instinctively pull away, trying to cover myself as if that could shield me from the heat of embarrassment washing over me.

Stay calm, Liv. Patience is key here, even if my heart is about to explode. I take a slow breath, forcing my spine to straighten even as my heartbeat pounds erratically against my ribs.

10

Alessio

One moment, I’m sitting in the corner, waiting for my target to walk in. The next, I’m staring at her—theSirena, barely covered by a damp, useless towel, her red hair dripping, clinging to her flushed skin.

My grip tightens around my knife, the one I intended to use to scare her, to remind her exactly what kind of man I am. But instead, it’s ready for play time in her soaked, trembling cunt. A blade meant for fear is now a tool of pleasure.

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