Page 84 of The First Cut
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need you inside me.”
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” I beg as he sits up and shoves my shirt up over my hips. He uses the scalpel to cut through either side of my underwear.
“Say ‘fuck me, Hannibal.’”
“Fuck me, Hannibal.” I feel how wet I am and I know he’ll only have to slip inside me and I’ll come.
He runs his fingers over my lips. “Open wide for me, doll.”
I open my mouth and find my panties pressed inside. The lace feels weird on my tongue, but I don’t spit them out. Curiously, I find I want to please him.
“I want you to trust me. I’ll push you to your limits, but never pass them. Without your voice, you can’t say no. You’ll be my little fucktoy to do with whatever I want. I’ll play with you until you can’t take any more, and only then will I give you what you want most.”
I blink up at him, not liking the idea of not being able to say no. It’s ironic, given that saying no has never stopped anyone from getting hurt. It never unbroke a hymen or stopped a bullet, never prevented cancer from spreading, or restarted a heart. Saying no never saved me. So why does giving up the ability make me feel so powerless?
And yet…I’m not afraid. His eyes are staring into mine, grasping all the threads of my sanity, holding me together in only the way he knows how. Yet, for him, I’m more than willing to unravel. Isn’t falling in love a little like going insane?”
He waits me out. When I don’t protest, he visibly relaxes. “Always knew you’d make the most regal of fucking queens.” He presses his lips against mine for a moment. When he lifts his head and looks at me once more, my Hannibal's gone. In his place is the monster everyone is scared of.
My heart rate picks up, and my palms feel damp. But as fear starts to war with lust, I feel how wet my thighs are with my arousal.
“You keep those panties in your mouth. Toys don’t talk. Toys don’t move. I’m going to do what I want—and you’re going to let me. More than that, you’re going to get off on whatever I do to you.”
He slides down my body and presses a kiss to my belly. “I won’t touch him.”
I frown, unsure what he means, until he lifts the scalpel. I watch in morbid fascination as he gently runs the blade over his tongue. A thin line of red rises to the surface before he leans over me once more and traces my lips with the tip. With my mouth full, I can’t do anything other than lie passively beneath him as he paints my lips with his blood.
Bracing his weight over me, he uses the flat of the scalpel to trail up my arm and across my collarbone. My heart is thundering so loudly that he has to hear it. When he reaches the swell of my breast, he turns the blade. His eyes move to lock on mine as he cuts a shallow path across my chest.
Shock renders me frozen for a second. By the time the sting registers, his tongue is soothing away the hurt, lapping up the thin trail of blood.
His eyes move to mine again, gauging my reaction. “Fucking knew you’d be perfect for me.” He moves lower once more, dragging the tip of the blade between my breasts.
Placing the scalpel on the bed, he laps up the blood from the newest cut before using two fingers to smear the last of it across my chest. His hot gaze moves over my body as I lay out before him like a macabre piece of art. When he lifts his red-tipped finger into his mouth and sucks, my stomach clenches hard.
I don’t know what he reads in my expression, but it snaps the thread of restraint holding him back. It takes him the barest moment to kneel up and yank his jeans down over his hips and pull his weeping cock free. He grips himself hard and I watch mesmerized as he strokes himself. I see his eyes dip to the scalpel on the bed, his brain warring with his cock for supremacy.
When he reaches for the scalpel, I brace myself for his next move.
“Open your legs for me. Show me what’s mine.”
Fear threatens to smother me, but I fight it down, remembering his words about pushing me, but never too far. I bend my knees, feet flat on the bed, before I drop my knees and spread myself wide. When he drags the flat of the scalpel across my inner thigh, I let my eyes flutter closed, trying to find calm in the chaos.
I jump when I feel the tip of the blade press against my skin.
“Easy, doll. Stay nice and still for me.”
A flash of fire washes over me before I feel him move once more. I open my eyes and watch as he rubs his open hand over the cut, covering his palm with my blood. He wraps the same hand around his cock and begins stroking again, leaving streaks of red on his skin.
His movements become more rapid as his breathing picks up, before his eyes move up to mine once more. Without breaking his stare, he positions himself between my legs. Without any warning, he thrusts inside me, not stopping until he bottoms out.
I arch my back and cry out at how full I feel but he doesn’t give me time to adjust. He hammers into me, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises.
“Such a good girl, taking my cock like that. You fit me so damn good.”
