"N-No," she manages. "Don't..."
"No?" The knife glints again as I gently press the tip against her throat. Her eyes are so fucking wide, so fucking scared, and my cock has never been harder in my life. Fuck ignoring my darkness. Fuck pretending I don't want this. I'm going to hurt her now. I'm too far gone to stop, and she's too fucking weak to stop me. "You don't want pretty little scars to remind you of me? You don't want to bleed for me?"
"Parker, I..." She swallows again, starting to panic. I can tell she sees the resolve in my eyes, my decision already made. I'm going to hurt her, and she knows it. That's when her survival instinct finally kicks in. Dove realizes she might not get out of here in one piece, and panic flashes in her eyes. "I changed my mind. I want to go."
"Don't even think about it." I press the knife to her cheek, grinning at her. "It's too late now, isn't it, little bird? I gave you the chance to leave, and you didn't fucking go. Now it's time to reap the consequences of your actions. Maybe this will finally teach you not to be such a fucking desperate little whore."
"I'm n-not a whore," she whimpers. She really does look her age now, freshly nineteen, still innocent, still a little girl. Fuck, it makes me hard. The sight of her, the smell of her, the shape of her are all so like my stepsister, June, it's driving me fucking insane. When the light falls just in the right way, I can almost pretend it's my little sis I'm abusing... And it makes me want more. So much fucking more. "Please, Parker, let me go... I'm getting scared."
"Good." I lift the knife away from her, and she exhales again. I admire the blade, glistening with some of her dark blood. I push my tongue out and lick it, ignoring the searing pain of the knife cutting me. Her blood tastes good. Innocent. Fucking fresh. "Don't you dare move, little bird. I'm not done with you yet..."
"P-Please," she manages. She's panicking now, but too afraid to scoot away when I have that knife in my hand. She won't stop me now. A part of her still wants this, wants me to destroy that last shred of innocence she has left. "Please let me go, and I won't tell anyone what happened here tonight."
"Of course you won't tell anyone," I reply easily. "Because if you do, you know what's going to happen?"
"N-No..."
"Yes. I'm going to fucking hunt you down and carve my name into your skin. You got that, little bird? Repeat it to me."
"I..."
"Fucking repeat it!"
She flushes, fear making her cheeks bright red as she stumbles over the words to get them out as fast as fucking possible. "If I tell anyone, you're going to carve your name into my skin."
"That's fucking right." I smirk. "Now stay fucking still... I need you to be still right now, or you're going to regret this even more real fast."
"Don't," she whispers as I press the tongue to her cheek. "Not my face, Parker, please..."
"Where else?" I smirk. "Everyone needs to know what a dirty little whore you are..."
The knife would be so easy to plunge into her ivory skin. So fucking easy. It would slice through it like butter. It's so goddamn tempting. But I prolong the moment, gliding the blade over her skin, teasing her with it. We both know what's coming. There's no way Dove can stop me—she's too weak, and I know she wants it. She's just too scared to admit it... But in a few years, she'll still remember this. Remember how I hurt her, how good the fucking pain felt. She'll get off to this memory for decades to come.
And then something snaps inside me, and I'm done fighting my instincts. With a groan of pleasure, I cut her cheek. Dove cries without making a sound, and it turns me on even more. She'll endure this for me... and I'll make her fucking love it.
I don't stop until blood drips down her face. She looks so beautiful like this. Abused to her full potential.
"There you go, little bird," I mutter gently. "A pretty little memento to remember me by..."
The knife clatters to the ground as I grin at the gash in her cheek.
"You can go now."
She stares me down. It's so beautiful witnessing her breaking down. Accepting what she is. Accepting her new life, where she'll always be looking over her shoulder, in fear of seeing me there. Following her, ready to cut more pretty scars in her once pretty face.
She picks herself up. Blood drips down her face, and she's shaking as she pulls her clothes back on, refusing to meet my eye. Dove looks like a fucking mess, and I can't wipe that smile off my face.