Page 24 of Fright Night
She’s silent, thinking, her throat moving with her swallow. She can take all the time in the world as long as she remains motionless so I can continue tasting her.
“This is a trick.”
If she believes it is, she won’t relax, which might be better because I really crave seeing her get off on her fear.
“Maybe, maybe not. That’s for you to decide.”
I continue down her shirt, the material a barrier, but when my teeth scrape over the hard buds of her nipples, she releases a breathy moan that signalskeep going.
I slide off her long enough to flip her to her front. An arm beneath her hips repositions her onto her knees and before she can look at me, I push a hand between her shoulder blades until her face lands in the mattress. Her wrists in one hand, the knife still in my other, she’s rendered submissive. I trace the blade down her spine, watching as her creamy skin ripples with goosebumps.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a point. Scared?”
“A bit.” She pauses. “You won’t hurt me. Not for real.”
I’d cut my own hand off before actually harming her, but she doesn’t need to know that yet. “Won’t I?”
I drag the knife a bit harder this time, until a thin line of blood forms. Nothing deep enough she’d feel more than a minor sting, but enough to build up her anxiety.
“Knox?” She tries to twist her head.
The blade descends her spine, by her hips, and over her ass before cutting away her panties. Those I pocket.
Bared, she squirms. Bared, I wish there was more light in the room so everything could be visible.
I flip the knife to slide the hilt between her thighs, not surprised at all when the handle glides smoothly. Pulling it away,the handle glistens with a sweet coating, and I show it to her, using the grip on her wrists to arch her farther backwards.
“If you’re scared, tell me what this is.”
“A knife.”
“No.” I bring it to her lips, forcing her to taste it. “This. Tell me what that sweet taste is.”
She sucks the handle for a few seconds and I swear I could come from the sight alone.
“Say it, Oakley.”
“I’m wet.”
I hum, dropping the knife beside her, my point now made. “Yeah, you are. Because you get off on the fear. Tell me, Trickster, was it more or less exciting when you thought I was someone else?” I lean over her back, my teeth scraping her shoulders—tight with anxiety. “You honestly believe I’d let anyone else see you like this? Picturing you with others in my absence was pure agony. There’s no fuckin’ way anyone else will be getting their hands on you now that I’m back.”
I lift off her and send a sharp swat to her bare ass, enjoying the way the skin moves beneath my palm—and her responding breathy moan. I do it again, only this time, let my fingers linger in the dampness between her legs.
“You never told me which part excites you. Thinking I was someone else, or did you only find pleasure when realizing I was me? When you woke up to find yourself tied and blindfolded. You think I didn’t notice the way you rocked your pussy up on me?” Emphasizing my own words, I sway into her. My cock is demanding to be freed, but tonight isn’t about me.
It’s about making a point.
“Or was it when I put you on your hands and knees?” I grip her wrists, reminding her of her current position. “You like it rough?”
Now, it’s her time to be silent. I suppose, after freaking her out earlier, it’s only fair.
Doesn’t mean I’ll stand for it.
I slap her again, this time over her clit, and she lurches forward. My hand comes away damp, which I won’t resist from tasting. From finally sating my long-standing craving.
“Answer me,” I demand around a groan. She’s so fucking sweet. She’s everything I’ve been missing in life.
