Page 27 of Mayfly

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please. I need you to… punish me for what I did.”

Jude squats behind me. “I thought I told you, you did nothing wrong?”

He slides my knife out of its harness, and my hands ball into fists.

My eyes are locked on my purple-red, swollen cock.

Jude grinds against me again, and I push back like I know I shouldn’t.

“Naughty,” he says, pressing himself against my back so he can look down over my shoulder.

It’s an all-black Seal knife with a custom molded handle. It doesn’t sit right in his hand, but it still makes my dick twitch when he drags the tip over my sack.

I hold my breath.

Jude wraps his free arm around me and flattens his palm against my chest.

He traces a vein, snaking his way up my shaft.

He runs the knife around my tip until it’s out of sight and pressing against my frenulum.

“Does this scare you?”

The question hangs in the air as Jude holds the knife perfectly vertical; the tip of the blade resting against my nerves. Less than an ounce more pressure would see it puncture my skin.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I trust you.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I… I’m not.” My voice breaks on the lie.

I can’t see his face, but I can taste his shit-eating grin.

Holding my dick still with the flat of the knife, Jude swipes two fingers over the head. “You’re leaking again,” he mocks, smearing it over my lips.

My body feels light, like I’d be floating if his body wasn’t grounding me.

His fingers dig into my cheeks as he twists my head around so he can lick my lips.

Transfixed, I watch him savor my taste. He dives in for more, his tongue circling my mouth. Inside and out. “We taste good.”

His voice is like a buzzing in my ears.

I flinch at the icy touch of carbon steel against my balls.

“I think I should fuck you with this,” he tells me, and my response is a heady nod. I’d agree to anything right now. “Or… should I do it with my gun?”

My head falls forward.

I’m losing control.

I’m not even sure where I am anymore.

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