“What you’d sound like,” he muses, but he doesn’t stop. He only turns up the pressure, twisting until I’m digging my heels into the floor.
“What’s the matter, Jasmine?” he muses, pinching my other nipple too even though he’s still holding the knife. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Don’t,” I mutter, embarrassed as hell that he’d do this out of the blue.
“It’s too late to back out,” he replies, twisting so hard I can barely keep the squeal inside. “We both know what you said, what you offered to me.” He leans in, practically sniffing the fear straight off my body. Because fuck, if he manages to get me so confused just by twisting my nipples … what else is he capable of?
“Are you afraid?” he whispers, leaning in so close I can feel his body press against mine. “Afraid I might take more than you bargained for?”
I shake my head, but I immediately regret the decision as my eyes travel down his body to the sharp V-line going into his pants and the bulge clearly growing underneath. And it’s not just any bulge. It’s long. Giant. Growing all the way down into his pants.
When he groans into my ear, a small whimper still manages to escape my mouth. “Because I can’t fucking wait to hear you beg.”
I can’t even respond, can’t even think straight, as his teeth grasp my earlobe, and he actually nibbles on it.
I can’t handle the sensations, the excitement humming through my body, the inevitable rush going all the way down to my … clit.
Fuck.
“Do you feel it, Jas?” he murmurs, sucking on my earlobe.
Jas? He hasn’t called me that in ages.
He presses his lips onto my neck, and my heart skips a beat. The kiss is slow and greedy, like a wolf licking its food before devouring it. “Do you feel the need rising?”
“N-No,” I reply, my voice weak and unsteady like my breathing.
His hand slides down my chest, all the way to my pants until he hits that place, and I almost die right here on the spot.
Not even the refrigerator in this room can keep me from heating up.
“Don’t lie to me,” he whispers as his finger circles on top of the fabric.
But that’s just it.
I’m not just lying to him.
I’m lying to myself too.
Because the second he started touching me, I felt it. Everywhere. Not just in my pussy.
And I hate it. I hate how my body betrays me.
“I’m not.” Another lie.
Within an instant, his hand has moved from my breast to my throat, sinking the blade into my skin. Warm droplets of blood roll down my neck.
“After all these years, you still deny me the truth,” he growls.
But before I can process what he means, he’s already back to circling my clit so hard I can barely keep it together. He’s not even touching my bare skin, yet he knows exactly how to touch me to make me squirm underneath him. All while never breaking eye contact and never lowering the knife. And I can’t help but stare right back at him with equal fervor.
If I can’t win this with pure strength, at least I can try to win by not surrendering.
Even though he makes it so damn hard.
The way he slides his thumb up and down my pants has gotten me hot and heavy.
“You can lie all you want, but I am still going to take what I want, Jas,” he groans. My breathing becomes more difficult with each passing second.