Page 76 of Tricked By Jack
“Suit yourself.” I smirk as I loosen my hold on her. Not enough for her to fall, I’d never do that. But enough for her to feel the slack.
“Jack!” she screams. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Help me.”
“Ask.”
Her chest heaves. “Help me remove my thong,” she relents, voice cracking. “Please.” The last word sounds like it’s ripping straight out of her pride, and it makes my cock throb harder than her hand ever could. Fear is loosening her, bending her, giving me what obedience never could.
“I’ll always help you when you ask,” I rasp, tightening my grip on her hip so she feels the stone edge bite into her thighs. “But help comes on my terms.” I tip my head toward my jacket. “Take the knife from my inner pocket.”
Her hands shake slightly as she reaches for my tuxedo jacket and reaches inside, quickly finding the pocket and the small knife resting there.
“You can either cut your panties off.” I pause, licking my lips. “Or you can trust me to keep you balanced with one hand while the other puts the blade between your legs.”
Eve parts her lips, but no sound comes. Her gaze darts over her shoulder to the thirty-foot drop yawning behind her, then it slams back to me, tears brimming in her beautiful eyes.
Even though her body shakes with the effort of holding still, her thighs spread wider anyway, a trembling offering. Perfect.
“Do it,” she whispers. “I… I want you to do it, Jack.”
My lips curve, dark satisfaction coiling in my chest as she clutches my shoulder harder with one hand, while trying to give me the knife with the other.
“Put it in my mouth,” I say.
As soon as the folded knife rests between my teeth, my left arm clamps tighter around her back. I don’t pull her into me—I hold her just far enough forward that she tips toward the drop.
“You better sit completely still,” I smirk.
Her ass balances half on the cold stone, half hanging in the open air. I spit the knife into my waiting hand and snap the blade open with a practiced flick. The sound is sharp, final, and it makes her flinch.
I slide the blade down, catching lace. One move and she’ll be bare. One slip and she’ll bleed. And still she obeys, shaking, silver eyes fixed on me.
“Jack,” she whimpers. Her nails bite harder into my shoulders, legs hooked around me.
“Don’t worry, wife,” I rasp as I slice through the fabric that parts like melted butter beneath the pressure.
Eve lets out a small cry, and when she looks up at me, I notice dark streaks carving down her cheeks. Beautiful ruin painted across her face.
“Oh, Eve,” I growl, leaning in and greedily licking the salty moisture from her skin. “Even your tears taste divine.”
I draw the knife back, snap the blade shut with a flick, and angle the handle so the cold hilt presses against her opening.
“What… Jack, what are you…” Her words trail off as I push the handle forward, slow enough that she feels every inch of stretch, the unyielding intrusion splitting her open.
Her cry pierces the night, nails gouging through the skin on my neck as her legs clamp around me, clinging to the only thing keeping her from falling.
“Be still,” I command huskily.
I grind the hilt deeper, fucking it into her with measured thrusts, the sound of wet friction rising between us. My cock pulses against her thigh, begging to replace the steel, and I bare my teeth against her throat. “Good wife. You’ll take what I give you, even if it’s not my cock.”
She sobs my name, voice breaking under the strain of fear and arousal, and the sound goes straight to my spine. I press my hips tighter, rutting against her leg, spreading my pre-cum all over her skin, while the knife works her open.
“Jack!”
Her scream fractures into a moan as the handle drags against her swollen clit on every thrust. She’s shaking, thighs stretched wide over nothing, cunt clutching down on cold steel like it’s the only anchor keeping her alive.
I rut harder against her leg, cock sliding wet across her skin, aching to be inside her but holding back because I want this. I want her to come undone for me like this—on the hilt of a knife, not my cock.
“Do you trust me now, wife?” I rasp in her ear, grinding the handle deeper, twisting it to scrape along her inner walls.
