Page 48 of Caution Tape

Unexpectedly, Nolan leans against me, his body pressed to my backside as he reaches around to grip my throat. I begin panting, before he clenches tight. Oxygen deprived, and now gasping for air, I push back against this invasion even faster.

“That a girl,” he laughs savagely over my desperate cries, his lips brushing against my ear as he continues to fuck me mercilessly with the cold, hard object. “Take it,” he grunts with each thrust, increasing his pace as he tightens his vice grip on my throat. “You have no fucking choice but to take it.”

Hell, he’s right. I don’t have any choice. I’m bound. As helpless as one can be.

Except, if I did have a choice, I’d still choose this.

Him.

My pussy grips the object tight, holding it hostage as it moves within me. I clench my thighs together and my body trembles, wave after wave of a second—or third—climax ricocheting through me. I’ve never felt anything this powerful. Nobody has ever gotten me off like this. Or even at all.

He’s a psychopath, in every sense of the word, yet he doesn’t scare me one bit. In a world full of pitch-black-nothingness, he makes me feel alive. Like I am capable of anything.

Like the whole world is ours to own and to play with.

Our own bloody playground.

He releases my throat once he senses I’ve begun to come down from my high, withdraws the object, and flips me onto my back in one swift motion. And when my eyes set on what he’s been using, my jaw drops.

It’s a bone.

He’s been fucking me with a bone this whole time.

And it’s just given me the best fucking ride.

“Did—did you just—“

“I did,” he cuts me off, staring down at me with those menacing eyes before inspecting it closely. “And all this cum, your cum, is proof you enjoyed it.”

He smiles, really smiles, before delicately placing his new favorite toy back into a box. Then he retrieves his knife and begins cutting away at the plastic, starting at my pelvis, and slowly trailing upward.

A knot grows in the pit of my stomach as I stare up at his face, watching him closely as the knife lightly grazes along my skin.

Sensing my sudden discomfort and suspicion, his jaw tightens, and he freezes, immediately locking his eyes with mine.

“Ask,” he orders, his voice low. “You have a question, so ask.”

“The bone,” I mutter. “It’s human.”

“Yes,” he answers.

My heart hammers. No. It’s can’t possibly be—

“You’re telling me you don’t recognize him?” he taunts, proving my gnawing suspicion accurate. “I know his flesh is gone now, and that he’s in pieces, but still. What kind of friend are you, Cora?”

“Jerri.”

He finally cuts away the last of the plastic wrap and I push myself up from the bed, lunging for the knife. Instead of putting up a fight, he releases it, handing it to me. I hold it tight in my grasp, and dart forward, pressing the tip of the blade against his throat, threatening to puncture his skin.

Nolan looks down at me, his hands loosely down by his sides, his shoulders relaxed. Yet his sharp, chiseled jawline remains tight. He breathes slowly, watching me intently, as if trying to read my thoughts. I lower myself from my tip toes down to my heels, breathing hard and fast, trying to figure out why I’m suddenly feeling the way I am.

Trying to figure out how I could have been so furious just seconds ago, and now I’m raging with lust and total admiration.

“Cora,” he whispers, lifting his hand.

I press the blade against his skin more firmly, in an attempt to show him I have the upper hand, drawing a small bead of blood just below his jaw.

He brushes his fingertips against my face, his touch gentle, and welcoming. Stepping closer, he leans into the knife, blood trickling down his neck, and a fire ignites in his eyes.

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