The familiarity between us is strange, especially since we literally just met officially, but I feel that I can take him at his word. Did we somehow bond in that hellhole, Malum? Is it the shared experiences that are bringing us so close so fast? I trust him somehow, and knowing me, that will be my undoing. He pulls away and takes the knife with him, plopping it on the pillow beside my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the blade. It’s sharp, lethal, and deadly.
I hold completely still, only allowing my chest to move with my breathing. I can hear him rummaging through the drawers, and I can only imagine what he’s going to pull out. There are so many things hidden inside that I’ve never even touched. They were too unfamiliar, too scary.
After what feels like an eternity, his weight settles back between my legs just moments before his hot breath washes against my clit. A soft moan pours out of my mouth as he teases me with little wisps of air but no real relief. And that’s when I hear the sound of a blade being unsheathed. My mind whirrs as fast as it can, trying to remember what’s all in this room. I only have vague recollections of the drawer that contained the knives, and even then, I probably blocked it all out from my mind.
Cold steel rests against my clit, and I hold my breath. Despite the fear of having him mutilate me, the adrenaline pumping through me sends wave after wave of pleasure through my body. His warm fingers, a sharp contrast to the knife, spread my lips open, exposing my clit to his blade.
He doesn’t slice into me, at least not yet, but I can still feel the blade as he taps it against me, riding me on that edge of terror and arousal. I don’t want him to cut me, but for a moment, a tiny, infinitesimal moment, I want to bleed. I want to see how it feels to have release my life force.
Shoving that thought out of my brain, I focus on what he’s doing, on the alternating sensations of the cold blade and his warm fingers. Soon, it’s his tongue lapping at me, sending tendrils of ecstasy curling through my body. I never thought oral would feel this good.
It always seemed far too invasive and messy for me to enjoy, but feeling him licking me, savoring me, devouring me, brings me close to the edge of an orgasm but doesn’t let me fall off. I need more. More sensation, more him. Far too soon, he pulls away and looks down at me, his eyes flashing with lust and aggression.
“I’m sure you have a favorite vibrator. Go get it and show it to me.” He reaches past my head and grabs the knife, taking away the imminent threat.
Before he can change his mind, I race to the drawer nearest the door and open it up. I unplug the simple bullet and bring it over to him. His smile when he takes it from my hand nearly takes my breath away. It’s so raw, so beautiful.
“This is all you need? No weird antennas or dolphins?”
Shrugging, I stare at the bullet, simple and uncomplicated, just like me. “I don’t need much.”
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, pulling me in for another toe-curling kiss. “Stand there for me while I get rid of these clothes.”
Once more, he pulls out the knife from earlier and attacks my shirt, ripping and cutting through until it’s in tatters. Pulling it off my body, he studies my bra for a moment and motions for me to turn around. It’s one of my fancier ones, the type that lifts up the girls and shows them off.
“I like this one. You will buy more like this. Understood?”
“Yes, Master.” Inside, I start to glow at his compliment. I didn’t buy the bra for him, but the fact that he likes it makes me feel like it was the best purchase I’ve made in all my life.
He struggles to unhook it with just the one uninjured hand, but soon, it’s unlatched. I don’t dare take it off, though. He didn’t give me permission, and with Luke, it seems that he gets off on the power, the control. Sure enough, his fingers slide across one shoulder and then the next, pushing it off until it falls to the floor.
“Take off your skirt.” His voice is harsh against my skin, burning me up as it flutters against me. Without giving it a second thought, I slide my thumbs under the band and start to lower, but his hand grabs my arm, halting me in the process. “I want you to leave those panties on. I want to see them on you, cut up, allowing me access to any fucking hole I want.”
His crude words send another wave of arousal through me, and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from groaning. There’s an edginess about him, a rawness that’s not in the other Doms. They’re so in control of their emotions, never letting down their guard, but Luke is so unapologetically him. He holds nothing back.
I slide my skirt down and let it fall to the floor, my breath coming in gasps as he eases his hand around my waist to draw me back against his chest. “Does my knife frighten you?”
“Yes, Master.” I don’t dare lie.
If there’s anything scarier to me than Luke’s knife, it’s the thought of Luke wielding the knife when he’s upset at me.
“Does it make you wet?”
Again, the temptation to lie is on my lips, but I refuse to give in. “Yes, Master.”
“Turn and face me.”
As soon as I’m back around, his uninjured hand comes up to my face, brandishing the knife close to my eyeball. Fear robs me of my breath as he holds it there, the tip far too close for comfort.
“I want you to listen to me, rabbit. My knife may be scary, but I can promise you, in my hands, it will be used as a tool for pleasure. Mostly mine as I glide it over your body, separating the skin.”
God, even as he’s calmly talking about flaying me alive, it’s getting me even wetter. There’s got to be something wrong with me. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t crave it. But I do. I want Luke to grab me by the hand and drag me into his dark world. I want him to show me what I’ve been missing out on.
“I will never injure you beyond repair unless I’m carving into you. But even then, I’ll take your wishes into consideration. But know this. I own every inch of your body. If I wanted to cut you to shreds, I would. Be grateful that I don’t break my toys.”
He pauses for a moment and brushes his other fingers along my sopping lower lips. I’m so shamefully wet.
“I wouldn’t want to stop playtime because you won’t stop bleeding. Mind you, your screams would do nothing to stop me. I encourage them. But hear this. Never be afraid of my knife. Just because I can harm you doesn’t mean I will. I never want you to look at this tool with a face of fear. Eventually, I want you to greet it like an old lover. Now get on the bed.”
Not willing to waste even a moment, I clamber on and lie face up, staring at the ceiling as I mull over his words. There’s such anger there, such violence, but he promises to never harm me. Can I take him at his word? If he wants me to end up considering his knife like another lover, he will probably have to train me to accept it. Will he have the patience to do so? Or will he give up and move on to someone that can take his depraved desires?
Once more, the weight of the bed dips down as he slides onto it next to me. His fingers brush against my forehead, and it makes me realize that I’m frowning rather hard. I’m surprised I wasn’t getting a tension headache.
“Talk to me, rabbit. What has your forehead scrunching like an old librarian?”
My bark of laughter seems harsh, forced. “I don’t know you. How can I trust that you won’t hurt me? Hell. How can I trust you’ll give me the time I need to adjust to your brand of love?”
“Fair questions. The short answer is you don’t. You’ll just have to figure out a way to trust me.” His fingers grip my chin and pull my face until our eyes lock. “I won’t make you any rash promises. If I give you my word, it’s forever. I know what it’s like to be both aroused and scared. It’s a heady feeling.”
For a moment, he stops, and I wonder if he’ll start back up again. I don’t want to say anything. I don’t want to break the spell. Soon enough, he continues.
“The only fear I want from you is the kind that waits with anticipated breath. I will never abuse you. Even if I have to punish you, it will never cross that line. I refuse to be that person. I refuse to walk down that path.”
The resolve in his eyes confirms it. That’s his monster. That’s what breathes down his back. Unable to speak, I simply nod.
“As for giving you time? Well, baby, I don’t intend on letting you go. I have all of eternity to brand you with my type of love.”
His head dips down for a kiss, and as I lean up, I once more feel the bite of the knife at my throat. “Tonight, little rabbit, will be lesson number one. You’re going to come for me, but you’re going to do it with my knife at your throat. Make sure to not move too much, or it will nick you.”
My fingers fumble around for my vibrator. I’m still so close to the edge that I’m pretty sure it won’t take long for me to get off. Luke settles in between my thighs so that the tip of his cock brushes against my clit.
“Lesson number two will come at the initiation.” Luke doesn’t expound. Instead, he smirks and gives me a wink. “Now this, this clit has waited long enough. Turn the vibrator on and get to work.”
The bite of the knife on my throat keeps adrenaline pumping through my body as the buzz from the vibrator fills the room. The moment it touches my clit, I moan. So close. So very, very close. Luke’s grunts intersperse my groans, but I don’t dare move my head to watch him.
Instead, I let his sounds of pleasure wash over me, feeding into the eroticism of the moment. My body clenches and releases as I start to climb toward my orgasm. The closer I get, the more the knife sinks into my skin. I don’t want to breathe, and I don’t dare move.
That bite of pain as the sharpened edge digs into my skin sends conflicting messages to my brain. I don’t want to like this. I don’t want to crave this. And yet, my body is responding as if it’s the most pleasurable sensation of my life.
It’s the fear of the unknown that makes me gasp as I struggle to lie still. I know my body. I know what happens when I orgasm. What will Luke do when it hits? Will he let me hurt myself? Or will he show me mercy?
Deep down, I want to know what it feels like to have him slice into my throat, to drain me of my life, but it’s an intrusive thought that flutters away at the very real thought of either immense pain or dying.
I don’t want to die. Not now. Not when my pleasure is so close I can taste it. But if I did, what a fucking way to go. It’s a dangerous, heady mixture, one that leaves me high and floating. My body feels light and airy, as if I could float away with just one puff of Luke’s breath against my skin.