Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

I held the knife steady as I leaned over him. I’d killed a man before, and I would do it again. Nothing would stop me from escaping this prison. If men didn’t want to be murdered in their sleep, then they shouldn’t mess with me. It was that simple.

I moved my knee to the bed and leaned over him, placing the blade right against his throat. All I had to do was slide the blade straight across, and Crow Barsetti would be no more.

He would finally stop haunting me.

My hand remained steady just before I made my move. I cherished his face for one more second, remembering the way his lips felt against mine in his gentle embraces. Just the fact I took a moment to savor a memory said too much damage had been done. He’d already played enough mind tricks.

His eyes opened unexpectedly, but he didn’t flinch. He stared at me like he’d expected me to come to his bedroom. Calm radiated in his eyes. He could feel the cool blade against his skin, but he didn’t move an inch. He watched me just the way he did from across the dinner table.

I held my breath, terrified that I’d been caught.

“Do it.”

What?

“Do it.” He moved one hand behind his head, becoming more relaxed. “You’ll be doing me a favor. I’m too much of a coward to do it myself.”

It was the first time my hand shook. My grip on the hilt was no longer strong. My fingers felt weak, and my resolve disappeared.

His eyes locked on mine. “Come on, Button.” He grabbed my hand and placed the blade farther against his throat, drawing a faint line of blood.

My hand automatically pulled away, my heart aching for the blood I’d just drawn.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and adjusted me on top of him, pulling the sheets off his waist. “After everything I’ve done, you have every right.” He grabbed my panties and pulled them far to the side, his hard cock pressed against my ass.

My determination disappeared when I looked into those green eyes. Sometimes, they seemed harmless, full of goodness and promise. Sometimes, I could fall into them if I stared for too long.

He slowly sat up, the knife still pressed to his throat. “You want to kill me so bad, then do it. This is your only chance.” He pressed his face to mine, the back of the blade touching my neck.

Come on. Do it.

My hand didn’t press into him. I barely held the knife at all. All I could think about was how much I had already hurt him. Drops of blood dripped down his neck and to his chest. The last thing I wanted to do was kill him. I only wanted to help him.

What the hell was wrong with me?

He pressed the head of his dick deep inside me, moving all the way until he was completely sheathed. He released a quiet moan when he felt me, feeling my slickness that seemed to appear from nowhere. He pressed his lips to my ear, taking a deep breath. “Button, your cunt was made for my cock.” He moved his arms underneath my thighs and slid me up and down his length.

He stretched me in the most delectable way possible. Every thrust felt better than the one before it. I forgot why I’d come in there to begin with. Nothing else mattered besides riding his cock. When he was inside me, all I could think about was our bodies moving together. The slick friction between us ignited us both. I became wetter for him, enjoying the way he stretched me more than any other man had before. My arms hooked around his neck, and I rocked my hips back and forth, falling deep into him.

He grabbed the knife from my hand and nicked me slightly along my neck.

It happened so quickly I didn’t even know it happened. It didn’t hurt, but it burned when it was sliced open.

He pressed his mouth to my neck and kissed the drops away, drinking my blood like a beast.

It should’ve disgusted me. It should’ve horrified me. But it made me burn with a fiery longing.

He pulled away and exposed his neck, wanting me to do the same to him.

Without thinking twice about it, I licked his blood away. I tasted metal on my tongue. The intimate act brought us closer together. All my hatred died away, and my walls came down. I let him in for the first time.

He pulled my face to his as he rocked into me from below. He eyed my lips, seeing the remnants of his own blood. Then he kissed me, our tongues tasting each other.

My nails dug into his back, holding on tightly as I bounced on his dick. I moved harder and faster, fucking him harder than he fucked me. “Crow...” It was the first time I said his name. And it felt so good, like he was mine. “Crow.”