“You’re paying me back now.” He stopped in front of me and leaned all the way in, putting his face against my neck.
I tried to jerk away, but couldn’t.
Inhaling, he rubbed the tip of his nose along my collarbone and inhaled. “Fuck. You smell so good.”
I swallowed.
He moved away and targeted me with a heated gaze. “How will you smell when I cut you open?”
“N-not as good,” I blurted. “My vote is no knives.”
Smirking, he tilted his head to the side. “What about the scalpel?”
“Do. . .do you have any. . .butter knives?”
He shook his head. “You don’t want that. A butter knife would force me to saw through your flesh.”
“Then. . .um. . .” My bottom lip quivered. “Do you happen to have any medicine or pills to make me numb?”
“Anesthetics?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled, “Why would we numb the pleasure?”
“I-I don’t think there will be any pleasure.”
He moved to my ear and brushed his lips against the shell. “I’ll do my best to make it feel good. Would you like that?”
Chapter 9
Blood
Phoenix
“Y
-yes.” My chest rose and fell fast. “Pleasure would be better than pain.”
“Then pleasure it is.” He slipped his soft lips from my ear to my mouth. Right when I thought he would kiss me, he bit my bottom lip hard.
“Ah!” I jerked from the sharp prick of his teeth. My lips stung and then wettened.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
Desire blazed in his eyes as he gazed at my mouth. “You bleed easily.”
He moved in and lapped at my lip.
Shock hit me as hunger sparked in my core. I didn’t want to be turned on by Cain or anything he did. But then I considered the alternative, the horrific deafening pain. If it were a choice between agony and ecstasy, I would always choose the latter.
“You’re a stunning piece of art.” He ran his gaze over my nude body. “And not the typical beautiful image. You’re a gorgeous chaotic mess of a woman.”
Cain touched me, moving those rough hands along my flesh. “You have the sort of broken soul that would be so delicious to a demon.”
I trembled under his terrifying caresses. “W-why?”
He paused from moving his hand and looked at me. “Why what?”
“Why do you do this? Why do you have this room?”
“Because there’s no drug on this planet that could save me.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my chin. “Because there’s no amount of alcohol to glue back together the broken parts of who I used to be.”
He went back to his blade’s caresses and glided the tip of the knife around my nipples.
I arched forward unintentionally.
Hunger covered his face. He stepped back and twisted the knife’s handle. “How do you feel?”
I swallowed. “Terrified.”
“Are you always this honest?”
“I’m naked, handcuffed, and hanging from a hook. If there was ever a time to be honest, this is the moment.”
“And your friend’s address?”
I pursed my lips together.
The jazz song shifted to a mellow bluesy one, drenched in a sad saxophone melody.
“Hmmm.” He put the cold blade against the side of my thigh.
Trembling, I did my best to move my leg away from his knife.
“You have such pretty brown skin.” He slipped the blade up the curve of my hip. “Open your legs.”
I shook my head. “I-I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“The very idea. . .scares me.”
He hit me with an evil smirk. “Too soon to start with your pussy?”
“Too fucking soon.”
His heated gaze narrowed on me. “Should we start somewhere small first?”
“Y-yes.” My heart boomed in my ears. “I think.”
He directed his gaze to my pussy. “No way. I have to come close to her. Just one cut.”
“Oh, God, no!” I fought against the cuffs, not moving and just exhausting myself. “Please, don’t! God, save me!”
“You keep screaming for someone who couldn’t care less about you.” He positioned the knife right next to my pussy. “Why do you do that?”
I wanted to move, but it was so close. If I did, I could swing forward, stabbing myself in the clit.
“If God listened to you, then you wouldn’t be here.” Cain slid the blade close to my inner thigh. “Do you believe me?”
“I-I can’t.”
He looked at me and raised his brows. “You can’t?”
“All I’ve ever had is faith.”
“You’ve had more than that.”
“Yeah, but faith in God is the only thing that has kept me going.”
“And now what?” Fast, he punctured my thigh.
“Ah!” I shuddered from the instant biting burn. “No!”
Then, the heat left the wound, and an ache remained. But it wasn’t a tormenting sensation. It was a subtle soreness.
Instantly, my adrenaline spiked. I felt the same way I would when I was being chased and running fast away—all those chemicals buzzing through me.
He studied me. “How do you feel now?”
I shook. “High.”
“From weed and wine?”
“Everything,” I mumbled, drowning in confusing emotions and heightened senses.
“Your body doesn’t know the difference between someone cutting your body or a bear attacking you.”