He brings the knife up to my inner thigh, running the blunt side across my flesh teasingly, torturing me with what’s to come. Small memories dance across my brain because he’s treading dangerously close to the scar on my thigh. When suddenly, it’s gone. The sensation of the unknown has disappeared, so I open my eyes, only to find him on top of me, his eyes watching me so intensely it’s almost unnerving.
Almost.
“Close your eyes,” he commands.
I do as I’m told, just in time for him to pull, what feels like a blindfold over my eyes. “Now, spread your arms wide. I’ll need you locked down for this.” I don’t know why, but I do as I’m told, spreading them far until I feel a cold metal clamp around each of my wrists. He tugs on them, bringing them both up toward the headboard where I hear two metal clinks on either side of the posts. The darkness from being blindfolded and the lack of control from being bonded to the bed has kicked up all other senses tenfold. My skin electrifies to life from the mere whisper of breeze what whizzes through the room from a cracked window, and the silence that hangs between us could lick over every inch of my screaming flesh. He presses his cock into me while bringing the tip of his nose down to mine.
“Isa…” he mutters, his breath falling over my cheek. I feel the tip of the blade come up my leg again. “Don’t flinch, or I’ll use a bigger one.”
I listen, unmoving. I don’t want a bigger one, I barely want this one. It should make me uncomfortable. If I were normal, this would be classified as a hard limit because of my history, but it’s not. It…. Excites me. Maybe that’s one of the many reasons why I’m fucked in the head. My deep breathing begins to drown out any other sounds, just at the point the blade drags against my tender thigh. Bryant’s breath moves from my face, trickles over my jawline, down my throat, and over my breastbone before he presses his lips against my flesh. “Don’t fucking move.” I obey, completely submissive in the bedroom against my own will. He continues his travels, drawing his tongue out and licking his way down, past my belly button and against my pelvic bone. One of his hands slides down my leg until he clutches my ankle, spreading my legs wider. The tip presses into my thigh, but away from the scar. There’s a sharp sting that stabs into me just as Bryant covers my clit with his mouth, licking his tongue over my clit softly. The sharp stab of the blade somewhat intensifies the pleasure in my apex as the trickle of blood seeps over my thigh. Bryant pulls away, the cold air whipping over my pussy and now my aching leg. I’m thankful in a way that he didn’t cut the same place his brother did all those years ago. I haven’t been able to touch that area, let alone let another person inflict pain there. His thumb presses against my clit just as his hot mouth opens against the pain in my leg. He suckles over the wound like a vampire would his last feast, biting down on my flesh roughly as his thumb increases pressure, circling me continuously. My back buckles from the bloom of pleasure I feel building in my core, about to shatter under his very touch. Just as I think I can’t take anymore, his mouth replaces his thumb and I’m done for. One-hundred thousand bombs all set off at once, shattering heavens doors open until fucking angels sing and it feels like drops of fire rain down on me. My orgasm rips through my body with my legs quivering and stars dancing in front of my blacked out vision. Coming down, his finger dives inside of me and circles around, running it over the skin between my pussy and my ass. He presses the same finger to my lips, dipping it into my mouth. I open and taste myself on his fingers, circling it as my body jolts from the aftershocks from my orgasm.
“Calm, Isa. Learn to control yourself, control your needs. Embrace what the fuck it feels like to be fucked, get fucked, and do the fucking. ‘Cuz in here, baby, there are no. Limits.” I want to blurt out how no limits is what turned me into a murderer, but I get the feeling right now isn’t the time to be sassy.
I swallow, the taste of my arousal now clinging to the back of my throat. “Understood?” he demands my answer.
“Yes, understood.”
“Good,” he answers, his weight pressing down on me. Unlatching the handcuffs from their links, he presses the head of his cock to my entrance. “Leave the blindfold on until I say.” He sinks into me, my pussy stretching to accommodate him as he circles and thrusts against me. Pulling out, he then dives back into me with a hiss escaping between his teeth. His hand flies up to my throat and clamps down on it so tightly, I will definitely pass out if he doesn’t loosen it. Like my own personal collar.