Always the protective one. Always watching my impulses.
“Knife play,” Keira repeats, her voice steadier than I expected. “What does that involve?”
I smile, bringing the blade up to trace along her collarbone, using only the flat edge. “I’d cut you with small, controlled cuts. Nothing deep.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “I’d taste your blood while I’m inside you.”
Her pulse jumps visibly in her throat. “You’d like to taste my blood?”
“Just a taste,” I murmur, leaning down to press my lips against that thrumming pulse point.
I watch as Keira’s breath catches, her teeth dragging across her lower lip. The flush spreading down her neck tells me everything I need to know before she even speaks.
“It’s a bit unhinged,” she admits. “But I can’t deny I’m turned on by the idea.”
I knew from the moment we claimed her in the Hunt that she’d match our darkness perfectly. Prey recognizing predators and choosing to bare her throat anyway.
“Good,” I growl, pressing the flat of the blade against her pulse point. I can feel how rapidly it beats beneath the metal. “Very fucking good.”
I glance over at Ace, still standing by the door. His expression is carefully controlled, but I know my brother too well—I can see the heat in his eyes, the slight flare of his nostrils as he watches Keira respond to the blade.
“What do you say, brother?” I ask, my voice rough with desire. “Want to get in on this?”
The air between us thickens with tension. Ace and I have shared countless women, but never engaged in knife play together—showing her our darkest sides. Keira stands between us, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she awaits his answer.
Ace’s eyes lock with mine for a long moment before sliding to Keira.
“Yes,” he finally says.
I watch, cock throbbing painfully against my zipper, as Ace unbuttons his pants with deliberate slowness. He frees his dick, already fully hard, and begins stroking it with long, measured pulls.
“Show me what you want to do to her,” he commands, his eyes never leaving the blade in my hand.
28
KEIRA
My heart hammers against my ribs as I stand between these two lethal men in their hidden armory. The weight of what I’ve agreed to—knife play—should terrify me. Instead, my body thrums with a dark anticipation I never knew I possessed.
Cyrus presses the flat edge of the blade against my throat, cold metal against heated skin. I swallow hard, feeling the pressure increase with my movement.
“Strip,” he commands.
My fingers tremble as I pull my shirt over my head, then slide my leggings down my thighs. I stand nearly naked before them, wearing only black lace panties.
“Everything,” Ace adds from where he stands, stroking himself. His gaze burns into me with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
I push the last scrap of fabric down my legs and kick it aside. Vulnerability and power war within me as I stand exposed in a room filled with weapons.
“On the table,” Cyrus directs, gesturing toward a metal preparation table I hadn’t noticed before.
The surface is cold against my bare skin as I lie back. Cyrus selects a small, curved blade from the collection and approaches me.
“Stay still,” he warns.
The first touch of the blade makes me gasp—a whisper-light drag across my collarbone that doesn’t break skin. Cyrus teases me with it, tracing patterns over my chest, down between my breasts, circling one nipple and then the other.
“Are you ready?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.
I nod, unable to form words.