Chained Hands (Chained Hearts Duet 1)

She likes what I give her.

Even if it’s fear-induced.

I’ve never fucked the same woman this many times.

Never played with one this long.

This is a first.

She is a first.

“Don’t you even think about it.” Her head is shaking, her mouth might be denying me, but her eyes are telling me yes. As I reach her, I slide my free hand up the split of her dress until I reach her cunt. She sucks in a breath, but I feel her wetness through her panties. She wants me, you can’t be this wet and not want what’s in front of you. So I walk her backward until she hits the wall, she’s trapped by my body in front of her with my hand up her dress.

“Seems you are very much interested.”

“Don’t mistake my wetness for liking you, Keir,” she bites back, then shouts in my face, “I …” snap, “… hate …” snap, “… you.”

And I think she does.

It’s better to hate than the alternative, that I know for sure. I’ve seen many of my men fall victim to the wickedly cruel game of love.

Stupid, really.

It’s just endorphins.

Fucking provides those just as well.

Then, when I’m finished, so are they.

It’s better to be that way.

I lost my cousin when I was ten to the same stupidity. He lived with us, and I was close to him, idolized him even. He was so different to my father because he smiled—our father never smiled. He and my father were close, but that changed fast. He was older than me, and I remember watching him sneak out, sneak her in, tell our father he was in love.

I also remember watching that love kill him.

He chose her.

And you never choose anyone over the family.

“You can hate me. You don’t have to want to be my friend to fuck me,” I tell her, lifting the knife and bringing it closer to her chest. Holding her hips to the wall, I slice down her dress, tearing it open. She gasps but stays perfectly still like a good girl. The dress falls apart, showcasing she’s only wearing panties underneath. No bra. Her perfect tits are on full display for my enjoyment.

I once was a big boob man. But hers? Hers are perfect.

I lean forward and wrap my mouth around one of her pert nipples, and she sucks in a breath.

Mentally I shake those thoughts out of my head.

Thinking she is perfect in any way is not good for either one of us.

I should just kill her right fucking now.

I pull away from her nipple and bring the knife up to her throat and press it against her flesh. Her skin goes pink underneath the sparkling blade, and her breaths are slow and long. Calculated. I pull her panties down before I slide my hand back between her legs.

She’s dripping, totally soaked for me. As I slide a finger inside her, I watch for a reaction, but she gives me nothing. Her breathing is harder, but her body is still with the knife at her neck.

I wonder what she would do if I just …

Pumping my fingers into her, I press the knife a little harder until a droplet of blood blooms from her skin. She doesn’t notice as she closes her eyes, the bead slowly running down her chest forming a little river of red. Removing the knife from her neck but not her body, I drag it over her tits before gliding it along her stomach. I lower myself to my knees and my mouth latches on to her clit. Her hands go to my hair, and she pulls. I dig the knife into the perfectly flawless skin of her stomach and another droplet of blood forms. Again, she doesn’t seem to notice making certain to stay perfectly still.

I want to drain her while I fuck her, then somehow put her back together again.

She lets me taste her. She enjoys it. I know so by the movement of her hips as she presses my face into her pussy. One more long lick and she comes undone underneath my tongue, with a choked moan and trembling thighs.

Standing, I drop the knife to the floor, reach for her, and pick her up before throwing her on the bed. Her tits bounce, and she lies back, waiting for me with her dress still hanging off her body. My cock hardens to granite in my trousers before I take them off and climb over her, caging her thighs in underneath me.

“Get the fuck up and suck my cock.”

I expect her to do as I say, but she spits out, “Fuck you,” while not even looking my way.

Her body is marked red from where I dragged the knife along her skin and her blood mixes with sweat from coming so hard.

“Little slut.” I back up and stand again, grabbing each of her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the bed. She leans up on her elbows and glares at me. “Suck my cock before I cut your insides out.”