“And I need what I do,” I confess. I reach for him again, fingers pushing through the grid as far as the cage will allow. “Please. No more.”
“You stop, I’ll stop,” he barters once again.
“You’re asking too much of me.”
“Promise me.” He holds his hand up to silence me before I can refuse him once again. “Promise that I’ll be the only one to hurt you.”
A dark thrill runs through my blood, excited by the idea, but I don’t answer him immediately.
“And what about you?”
“Just the idea of your hand on my knife drawing my blood makes my dick hard.”
Instinctively, my eyes drop to the bulge at the front of his jeans.
“So we—” I swallow, attempting to dislodge the lump in my throat. “So we only hurt each other?”
Is that what I need? Or is that just handing my power over to him? Would I even be able to give him what he needs? I’ve never been big on sadism. My desires tilt to the other side of the spectrum.
“I won’t drug you and fuck you.”
“I won’t stop telling you no,” I counter and love the way his eyes narrow. “Sometimes I may need more than just what you have to offer.”
I told him I wouldn’t lie, and this is my whole truth. One man may not be enough to give me what I need.
“I won’t fucking share you.” His ice-blue eyes are mere slits as he looks down at me. “But I’ll find a way to give you what you need.”
As if we’ve somehow sealed the deal with no paperwork, his knife clatters to the floor as he reaches for the combination lock keeping me trapped. In the next minute, I’m pulled from the cage and TJ is ripping at my clothes. My tits spring free from my tank top, but he doesn’t let his hands pause until I’m standing in front of him completely naked. I don’t bother trying to cover myself, but it does take a lot of strength to keep from reaching out to him.
“I can smell your pussy from here,” he hisses in my ear as he crashes his body against mine.
I don’t shrink away this time. I don’t let shame swim in my gut for being turned on at the sight of his blood transferring to my stomach and breasts.
“Look,” he urges just as his fingers tangle in my hair and he forces my head down. His other hand, covered in blood from his wounds, trails down my stomach. “Absolute perfection.”
Harsh breaths loudly escape his lips as we both watch his fingers slide down my slit and disappear.
“Oh fuck,” I moan as he pulls back his hand and my arousal, along with traces of his blood, coat his fingers.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns as I reach for his belt buckle.
“Please don’t be.”
Anticipation swims through my veins as he takes a step back. My hands, trembling with need, fall to my sides as I watch him strip. His eyes focus on my body and the blood left behind on my skin as he methodically strips every scrap of clothing away. Not only are we physically bare to each other, I feel as if we’ve crossed some invisible line that will at least feed our devious hunger for pain and humiliation.
“You need to tell me if it’s too much,” he says as he drops his jeans to the floor. His bright blue eyes are nearly black, the irises having been taken over by feral, dilated pupils.
I shake my head no. “I need you to be rough with me.”
A hiss slips through my lips when he tangles his fingers in my already matted hair. My head jerks forward until our noses are touching and our breaths are mingling. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much.”
My head nods, and it’s not really a lie because what he does to me will never be too much. I only worry that, like last time in my apartment, he won’t be enough.
“Do you want me to start by fucking your mouth or tongue fucking your pussy?”
“Fuck my mouth.”
Without warning, he slaps my right breast. “Wrong answer.”
“Eat my pussy,” I whimper.
He hits my right breast again in the very same spot. I’d be amazed by his accuracy when he hasn’t pulled his eyes from mine, but my flesh stings too much.
“Also a wrong answer.”
“Jesus,” I nearly scream when he lands two hits to my other breast.
“Repeat. After. Me.” My breasts burn, and my pussy slickens when he punctuates each word with stinging slaps. “Whatever. You. Want. TJ.”
“Please,” I beg, and not for him to give me what I want, but because he’s inching toward my limit and he damn well knows it.
Being drugged and unable to hand myself over to someone is different from actually speaking the words.
“Say it,” he urges as his talented fingers twist my already burning nipple.