Noah’s rib cage is expanding and contracting fast, his eyes fixed on the knife. At the united exhale of both our breaths, I slice a thin, straight line. The skin parts willingly, and for a split second, nothing happens. Then a little valley of exposed flesh blooms with blood.
“Fuck,” Noah whispers in awe.
I trace the warm blood with my finger, dipping into that pool of life. I can’t resist putting it to my mouth and giving it a taste. Sweetness and copper, flesh and life. It feels almost like a religious experience—having Noah gasping and writhing underneath me, an open wound on his belly, the knife in my hand, and his blood on my tongue.
Fuck, this is truly something else, isn’t it? We won’t be able to go back from this. Won’t be able to backtrack our actions to something more normal and less fucked up. The weird thing is, it doesn’t even feel fucked up. It feels right.
When my eyes shoot open, Noah is staring at me, chest heaving, blood pooling down to his crotch and dripping down his sides.
“You’re making a mess.” I gather the blood with my palms and smear it further up his stomach, toward his chest. It makes him look obscene, like he’s my quarry or something, a slaughtered deer. I make an artwork of his blood, and it dries as I smear it on him. The smell?…?It’s overwhelming.
“Do you think this works as lube?” I slide my hands in the mess and grab my cock, spreading some onto the head.
“I don’t know,” Noah says, voice strained.
I position myself between his legs, and he parts them for me, lifting his knees into the air as I bring my bloody fingertips to his hole. “We’ll see.”
He stares down at his body, chest heaving as I press into his wound to make more blood seep out.
“Does that hurt?” I ask.
“Ah?…?A bit.”
“I’m going to fuck you anyway.”
His eyes when I say that, Christ?…?They’re glassy, widened with pain and something like fear, but glittering with want and arousal all the same.
“Yes, please,” he whispers.
I groan in reply. With his blood easing my entry, I push inside in one smooth thrust, hiking his knees over my shoulders.
Noah grimaces, tilting his head back, but he doesn’t make a sound, save for a soft whimper.
“Does that hurt, baby?” I ask.
His head thrashes from side to side, up and down, haphazardly, as if he doesn’t know if he should nod or shake his head.
“Maybe you can’t tell anymore if it hurts?…?or if it feels good?” I thrust into him, snapping my hips to his. I don’t think I’ll last very long. But I want to. I always want to be inside him for as long as I can.
His eyes go wide. “No. No, I can tell.”
With my bloodstained hand, I grip his cock and stroke it quickly. “I’m going to come soon, and I want you to come with me. Okay, Noah? I want you to come with me.”
He nods desperately. “I will. I’ll come.”
“Are you sure you can come through all this pain?”
He keeps nodding, giving me that pained expression I so like to see.
“Because you like it, don’t you?” I mumble. “You like me fucking you. You like me hurting you too.”
“I do, I like it. Ash, please—”
I jerk him like a madman while I fuck into him hard and deep, feeling my own pleasure crest and spill, blood mixing with cum and pain mixing with pleasure.
Noah’s face scrunches up in pain, as if the buildup to his orgasm is hurting him. Granted, he came only a little while ago, so he must be feeling pretty sensitive. Still, he yields to me, arching his back, sobbing as his orgasm hits.
Our eyes lock, his wide and almost scared. I hold his gaze as he comes down, riding on the intensity of what we just did, what he just gave me, and what I gave him.