Pinching the fabric between his fingers, he sliced into it, and it parted for him smoothly, glad to be destroyed by such a man.
As the back of the knife slid down her from waist to thigh, her breath came in harsh gasps. Every nerve in her body felt alive and deliciously terrified. Her clit pulsed, and she could smell her own arousal.
God, he’d said he’d have sex with her tonight, but she was going to come before he went anywhere near her pussy.
As the blade passed through the bottom edge of the shorts, the fabric sprang aside, turning them into a ragged band around her other thigh.
“So lovely.” His gaze skimmed her nakedness, as though he hadn’t seen her body before tonight. “You’re trembling, baby. Are you afraid of me?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. He’d gotten under her skin now, and he’d hurt her feelings once already. This wasn’t like a normal relationship where boundaries were firm and set. This was letting someone so far into her that she wasn’t sure she could get all of him out again. The knife didn’t scare her, but his hold on her did.
His blue gaze was dark with lust. Would he lose control? Would he cut her?
If he did, what if she liked it?
The tip of the knife pressed lightly against her thigh, scratching her just enough to make it feel dangerous. He moved it upward, past her belly, to the valley between her breasts.
She whimpered and the sound of her own dread turned her on. What was he turning her into?
“Playing with knives is dangerous,” he said, dragging the blade upward to circle her nipple, barely touching her with it. “Not just because the knife is sharp and could slip, but because the person holding it has to know how far to go, and also how far not to go. A touch, a scratch, a cut. So many options, depending on the limits of your willing little victim. What does my victim want?”
He was so close to her nipple she was holding her breath and couldn’t answer.
“I get the feeling she secretly wants me to cut her, but she’s too scared to ask.” He lifted the knife away from her then leaned down and bit her nipple. It all happened so fast, she couldn’t stifle the small scream of surprise. For a moment she’d thought the pain was the knife. When he kissed the tip of the breast he’d just hurt, she shivered violently and laughed in relief. It hurt, but it also felt good, and his teeth were far less frightening.
“Oh my god! You bastard!” She struggled to slow her pulse rate, but then the blade was back on her and she couldn’t calm down.
He rubbed the side of the blade over her in a mesmerizing and beautiful pattern. She felt the echo of it in the blade’s wake, like a fresh, invisible tattoo.
“Spread your legs for me, beautiful.” His gaze took on a sadistic burn that made her want to hide.
The way she was bound, there was no opening or closing them, but her distinct preference under the circumstances would be to close them.
“No, no!” She attempted to draw her knees together, or at least her thighs, but she was completely stuck.
The knife was spine down on her belly and edging lower. “Are you chickening out on me, Mila?”
Her mind raced—did she want him to stop? No. It wasn’t just that she wanted to be a good girl. It wasn’t just that she wanted him to fuck her pussy and make her come.
Yes, she wanted to please him even though she was scared, but she had a safeword.
It was the feel of being at his mercy, and the intensity of his gaze when the knife touched her skin—she kind of loved it.
“I’m not chicken.”
“There’s no shame in telling me if you’re at your limit. You always need to be honest with me.”
Her heart dropped at his words. Nothing about them was honest—not when she’d been investigating him for so long, and yet sharing his bed.
He’d stopped and was waiting patiently, his warm blue eyes watching her with a mixture of concern, arousal, and . . . affection? She already trusted him so much. How was he ever going to get past her deception?
How had she ever thought this man was a criminal? Sure, he was an asshole sometimes, but usually only in a sexual context. It turned her on. The rest of the time he was sweet and funny and helpful. And he was so beautiful.
Oh god . . . was she in love with him?
Oh god . . . she was.
He had her tied down to her kitchen table and was looming over her like some sort of demented serial killer. A