Hunt

“No.” She shook her head. “That’s nonsense.”

“It’s the truth.” I pointed the knife at her. “Plus. . .”

“What?”

“Some women get erotic pleasure from the fantasy of being forced.”

She blinked.

“Do you want to be utterly ravished?”

She looked around as if other people were near to judge her answer.

“Do you want to know why I grabbed the knife?”

She nodded.

“I yearn to have the blade’s sharp edge transport us to somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“The darkest parts of our souls.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Let me show you.” I took a step forward.

She held her hand up. “Wait.”

I leaned my head to the side. “Yes?”

“But, what are you going to do with that knife?”

“Scare you with it.”

“W-why?”

I shut the door behind me and locked it. “When you know you have nothing to be truly scared of, fear can be an aphrodisiac.”

She gazed back at the door with sadness in her eyes. “But, I have a whole lot to be afraid of.”

“You don’t. We’ve just established that I would never kill you.”

“But you would cut me.”

“Maybe, I will. Maybe, I won’t. Either way, it won’t hurt as bad as you think it will.”

“Then, why make me fear at all?”

“Due to the pure adrenaline. Do you remember your orgasm in the soul coffin?”

“I’ve tried to forget it these past weeks—”

“But then the memories come back to you and you cut yourself with sewing scissors.” I took another step forward.

She continued backward.

Still walking toward her, I held the weapon in front of me. “What do you think of this knife?”

“It’s too long. Too sharp. Too big.” Her bare ass bumped into the sink, giving her no more way to inch back. “It’s too fucking much.”

“It’s our new knife.” I grinned. “Soon you’ll love it more than any sex toy.”

“W-we’re not. . .having sex if you use it.”

“Oh really?”

“We were doing just fine before you brought the knife into this.”

“Sit back on the sink.”

Defiant as fuck, she stood there. Every few seconds, she darted her gaze to the door.

I could see the plan unfolding in her mind. Somehow she would try to defend herself. She was a good fighter. I’d experienced as much in her apartment nights ago.

She stopped hugging herself, dropped her hands to her sides, and fisted them. “Cain. . .don’t do this.”

“One day, you’ll beg me to do it all the time.”

“I doubt that.”

I moved closer. Two feet of space ran between us. Close enough to reach out and grab her if necessary. She must’ve figured as much too. Her chest rose and fell faster.

Her fight or flight responses should be kicking in.

This moment triggered her body to release a decadent cocktail of hormones that were all meant to prepare her to either stay and deal with a threat or to run away to safety. The body’s sympathetic nervous system would be activated by the sudden release of hormones. This chain reaction would result in an increase in heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing.

After the threat was gone, it would take between twenty to sixty minutes for the body to return to its pre-arousal levels.

During that time, I planned to fuck the shit out of Phoenix and make her shatter with intense orgasms.

I gazed down at her stiff nipples as her breasts bounced with the movement of her chest quickly rising and falling. “Hmmm.”

“You’re enjoying this?”

“I am.” I licked my lips. “Is your pussy wet?”

She pursed her lips together.

“Then, it is. Admit it.”

She glanced at the door again.

“To induce your fear sometimes we will tread into dangerous and fragile territories.”

“I don’t want to do any of that.”

“We’ll test our emotional resiliency.”

“We wouldn’t be tested. It would just be you testing me.”

“Never that, Phoenix. We would both be tested.”

She scowled. “How the hell could that be true?”

“You would have to face the likelihood that confessions and weaknesses will be turned against you.”

“And you?”

“I would have to draw upon the darker aspects of myself. My shadowed self.”

“I believe you’ve done that already with your soul coffin and all the people you’ve killed.”

“But I haven’t done that when it comes to love or sex. This is all new to me.”

“This isn’t love.”

I winked at her. “Or maybe it’s the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in.”

“Fuck you, Cain.”

“With this journey, we’ll be connecting with our shadow selves. That means. . .there is no going back.”

“Or I’ll end up killing you.”

My grin widened. “I’ve considered that too.”

“Because you’re crazy.”

“That’s probably the reason.”

“And just for conversational purposes, what are your thoughts on my killing you?”

The grin left me. My heart ached. “If you kill me, then I accept it.”

She parted her lips.

“Phoenix, I wouldn’t mind dying by your hands.”

“Jesus Christ.”

I wagged my finger at her. “He won’t be a part of this.”

“Regardless, I don’t want to kill you.”

“But, if you need to, then you should.”

She gazed down at her hands.

“I won’t lie to you.” I twisted the knife in my hand. “Killing me might be your only path to escape. I understand that more than you do. I know all the ways I’m willing to keep you next to me.”