“What should I do with it?”
“W-what would you like to do?”
I bite her lower lip slowly, tugging it away before releasing it. “I could use it to fuck you.”
She jerks back. “Use… the knife?” Her head shakes. “I don’t—”
“You don’t think you’d enjoy it?” A sly grin curves my mouth. “Then why are your nipples so hard they’re straining through your top?”
She gasps, eyes dropping to the unmistakable evidence of her arousal.
“Your cheeks are flushed,” I murmur. “Is that because you like the idea of me using my knife on you?” I let my gaze drag over her. “I bet your pretty pussy is soaked just thinking about it.”
I expect her to retreat. To cower.
Instead, my angel smirks. “Why don’t you find out?”
It takes everything in me not to take her right here. But I don’t move.
Emily’s chest rises and falls sharply, her body trembling with a heady mix of fear and anticipation.
I snatch the mask and knife from her quivering fingers. Sliding the mask over my face, I inhale, the familiar weight grounding me. My head tips back as a near-euphoric rush floods my veins.
Then I snap my gaze back to her, locking onto her eyes—knowing all she can see now is a soulless mask.
“Run, Angel.”
I don’t have to tell her twice. She turns and bolts, bare feetpounding down the stairs.
I don’t run.
I walk. Slowly.
Because knowing the person hunting you is so certain they’ll catch you that they don’t even bother to hurry?
That’s a different kind of fear.
I catch up to her as she stumbles into the kitchen.
Her head twists, eyes locking onto me, her hair swooshing around her face. She turns fully, then begins to walk backward, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact.
I stalk after her until she’s pressed against the island in the centre of the kitchen, her body trembling, chest rising and falling sharply. My hips crowd hers and she gasps, feeling exactly how much I want her.
The knife lifts, the tip settling at her collarbone, barely kissing skin.
I hold it there.
Pause.
Despite the shivers wracking her body, she nods—encouraging me.
I grin behind the mask.
Then her clothes are giving way, fabric parting beneath the blade as I expose her to me.
Big tits and pert nipples strain towards me. Curves that I would sell my soul for. Pussy that Iknowis weeping for me.
I flip the knife, so the hilt faces her, the blade biting into my palm instead. Blood beads and slides, slicking the handle.