His fingers move over the curve of my pussy possessively, rubbing and needing to feel every inch of me. I can’t help but gasp in response, my body betraying me. His tongue flattens against my throat, and he trails it upward until his lips are above mine.
I search his dark eyes as sneaks his fingers beneath the trim of the delicate lace, the back of them running over my bare lips and just as I part my legs, desiring to feel more, he grabs my hand that’s holding the knife and snatches it from my grasp with a speed that makes my breath catch, his hand tangling in my hair brutally.
Before I can react, he spins me roughly, forcing me to face the counter and my hands shoot out instinctively, my phone flying across the counter as I brace myself against the cold surface. He shoves me forward, bending me over, then his hold on my hair loosens, but there’s no pause.
His hand clamps down over my mouth, muffling the scream that almost tears from my throat, the sound dying against his palm, leaving only the frantic pounding of my heart and the cold, metallic thud as he slams the knife onto the counter beside me. Testing me to see if I’ll use it.
“Don’t worry, my little kitten. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s the fucking opposite actually. I just want to make my girl feel good. For now.” He whispers against my ear.
The air between us hums with tension, charged with the thought of what he’ll do next. His hand slowly trails over the curve of my ass, before curling around the hem of my dress and he yanks it upward, the fabric ripping over my skin, exposing me to him. I tense instinctively, my hands clenching as his fingers hook beneath the thin string of my panties, dragging it down my crack before he tugs sharply enough to make the fabric snap.
My eyes squeeze shut as he yanks me upward toward him, my back hitting his front, then pushes my feet further apart with his boots. He gazes down at my side profile as he lifts the knife again before he slips it down between my thighs and the dangerous sensation making me weak.
“Has a psychopath ever fucked your hungry cunt with a knife before, Ms Tate?”
The cold handle glides through my lips, its odd surface alien and invasive, making my legs quiver uncontrollably. He teases my clit with its edge before dragging it downward until he suddenly drives it deep inside me with a single, brutal shove. The scream that rips from my throat is muffled against his hand, the sharp stretch in my pussy burning through me like a mark.
He doesn’t wait, doesn’t let me adjust. He thrusts the handle in and out of my pussy violently, his movements relentless, feeding off every muted cry that escapes me. His breathing is harsh, uneven, almost guttural, as if my discomfort fuels him, pushing him further to whatever darkness that controls him.
My cries turn into unhinged, shameless moans, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Come seeps from my pussy—unrestrained—dripping in a slow, rhythmic pulse that taps against the tiled floor between my legs. My knees threaten to give way, but he holds me, keeping me upright as he repeatedly plunges it deeper and harder, almost striking my cervix. I pushmy ass back like a slut, letting him ram it into me, chasing my orgasm, which is already quickly building.
The world around me becomes a blur of forbidden pleasure and pain, and I lose myself in the madness of it. I can’t escape. I’m fucking shattering. With one last, brutal thrust, my body convulses violently, every nerve on fire as a mind-ripping climax crashes over me, tearing through the very core of my being.
“You break so beautifully for me, Raven,” he growls against my ear breathlessly. “Like I’m the one who built you just to fucking destroy you.”
His thrusts gradually lose their frantic pace, the force fading until he rips the handle out of my soaked pussy, leaving me hollow and trembling. The cold steel of the knife clinks sharply against the counter as he tosses it aside carelessly, his movements shifting from raw hunger to something colder as if his job here is done.
Without warning, he spins me by the hips and before I can even pull myself together, his hands are on me again—lifting me, effortlessly, and dropping my ass onto the counter. I hang my head, my wet red hair cascading over my face like a veil, hiding the chaos swirling in my eyes.
My body is strangely satisfied, my pussy screaming that it’s what it desperately needed after almost five years of deprivation, but it’s my mind that fractures the most. Guilt and shame coils deep in my gut, mingling with the undeniable ache of desire for him, the raw need to give in—and yet, I can’t.
Not him.
His hand grips my jaw, forcing my face upwards, then he leans in to kiss me, but I flinch pull back, yanking myself from his hold and look away.
“I can’t,” I whisper, my eyes glazed over with unshed tears. A helpless shake of my head follows the words before my gaze drags back to his. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I can’t give it to you, Ty. I can’t fix you. Not like this. Maybe in another life… but…”
His jaw clenches, his gaze darkening with a burning intensity. “You think I want you to fix me?” he bites out, his head tilting to the side, hardly holding onto his anger. “I don’t need you to fucking fix me, kitten,” he spits. “I want you because I want to fix you.”
Confusion clouds my mind, but I can’t waste any more time caught in these twisted mind games. This isn’t some game. Not here. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened between us.
“This is my life, Ty,” I say, my voice shaking with every word. “Don’t make a game out of it. I don’t want you. I don’t want your bloodshed. I don’t want the guilt. Please, just leave me alone.”
His eyes flash with something colder, and in an instant, his face is dangerously close to mine until our lips brush and I try not to flinch back.
“Bullshit,” he snarls with frustration. “There’s no getting rid of me, Raven. You’re seared into my insane fucking mind—etched into my demented soul.You’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” His words are a bitter growl, each one wrapping around me like chains. “And the more you reject me? The more I fucking want you. You think you can push me away, but your little no’s mean fuck all to a psycho like me.”
He steps back unexpectedly, and I slump forward, my body heavy with defeat. Through blurred vision, I watch as he calmly crouches and Midnight pads toward him, her small body pressing against his leg. Her trust is almost too painful towitness as his gloved fingers scratch behind her ears while she purrs, melting into his touch, her surrender as stupid as mine.
When he’s done, he stands, his gaze flicking over to the knife on the counter that he just fucked me with, but his face shows nothing—completely unreadable, a mask of perfect composure before his eyes snap back to mine.
“I’ll see you soon, my beautiful girl.”
His words land like a death sentence but they, as always, stir something else inside me. Something unwanted. Something shameful. I can only blink, numb to the ache in my chest as a single tear slips down my cheek.
Without another word, he turns, his boots heavy against the floor as he disappears into the suffocating darkness beyond the door like a ghostly entity. The moment the front door clicks shut, a sob tears its way from my throat, breaking the silence he left in his wake.
I sag against the counter, my shoulders weighed down. I close my eyes, feeling the phantom cold of his touch still pressed against my skin and the sharp sting of his last words cutting through me.