The knife falls away from my throat.
With a strength I find God-knows-where I shove him away and get out from under him, half-lurching and half-falling off the bed. My pulse is roaring as I scramble up from the ground, not even caring that I’m topless with my leggings at my knees as I bolt for the door as fast as I can.
I’m not fast enough.
I cry out when he grabs my hair tight in his fist and yanks me back so hard I almost lose my balance. He spins me around and roughly slams me against the wall. The breath is knocked out of me, and when his fingers wrap around my throat again, I choke and gasp.
Dark heat pools inside me as the mask leers down into my face, the blade waving between us. I can’t see his eyes, but I canfeel themsliding over my nudity, turning my skin pink as a mixof fear, shame, excitement and black desire bleeds through my body.
“Thatwasn’t very nice,” he hisses as he brings the knife down to my breasts.
“Please stop?—”
The metallic tip dances across my bare nipple, and I bite my lip in horror when it pebbles and tightens to a needy point.
“You’re just lucky I like my prey with a few claws,” he whispers darkly, dancing the blade over my nipple again as my legs shake and my core knots.
His other hand slides between us and his fingers splay across my bare stomach before the whole hand begins to slide lower.
The poisonous, toxic need inside me throbs and coils. Whimpers and yearns.
Aches.
No. No. No…
What was the safe word? What the FUCK was that safe word?!?
Before I can even jolt my brain into remembering, his fingers are slipping under the lacy waist of my panties.
My whole world tenses, holding its breath as his fingers tease lower, pushing between skin and lace.
My face caves. My jaw drops. My breath catches.
And a fuckingwhimpertumbles from my lips.
The man chuckles darkly.
Blade against stone.
Dark fantasy bleeding like venom into my reality.
Suddenly, his fingers find what we both know they were looking for. And when they sink between the mortifyingly wet lips of my pussy, not even my teeth biting my lip so hard it almost bleeds can stop the small whimper that bubbles up my throat.
“Theeeere’smy good little prey,” he growls, rolling two fingers over my clit.
God help me, Imoan.
I didn’t ask for this.
It's so wrong, so fucked up.
It'sassault.
So why the fuck am I so wet? Why are my hips rolling eagerly against his fingers? And why thefuckcan’t I remember that safe word?!
His fingers push lower. Suddenly, I’m choking on a moan as he pushes two thick fingers deep inside me.
The breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh from howbighis fingers feel stretching me to my limit. He strokes them out and then rams them right back in, curling them against my front wall. Wet, squelching sounds reach my ears, and I cringe when my face darkens in shame and desire.