Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
A good little slut takes her punishment like a good girl.
I’m going to bite him.
- Arienna
“So how do I throw a knife?” I ask as I reach for one with a black handle just as my king stops beside me. He takes a drink from his glass before placing it down on the table and picking up a pink blade.
“This is the cutting edge,” he says, running his finger along the side of the metal.
“With throwing knives, you can throw either by holding the blade or the handle. These are recreational ones so their blades aren’t sharp, meaning you will have to do something absolutely stupid to cut yourself.
” His eyes narrow as he pauses. “Don’t try it. ”
Mine widen. “What? I wouldn’t test something like that on purpose.” But my traitorous finger runs along the edge even as he watches. He’s right. It’s dull enough not to cut.
“Arienna.”
“Sorry,” I say, putting the knife down and placing my hands behind my back. I smile sweetly at him. He doesn’t look amused.
“These are not toys, my queen.”
“But it is a game?” Biting my lip, I glance away.
I really want to try my hand at throwing them now that Deirdre isn’t about to be murdered.
Warmth pools in my chest over the knowledge that I saved her.
I finally fixed something in this broken world.
Perhaps I can fix Richard and Deirdre’s broken friendship too…
“Sorry,” I say as I lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”
Exhaling gruffly, Richard grabs the knife by its blade and points it at the target, his elbow bent.
“Line it up, using the end as the sight. You want to keep your wrist locked as you pull your arm back.” He arcs his behind him so his elbow faces forwards.
“On release, don’t flick your wrist. Keep your arm straight and let the knife just slip through your fingers. ”
He flings it quickly. The blade spins through the air and embeds itself into the middle of the target. My mouth falls open as my eyes widen with delight. Grinning excitedly, I reach for the table. “I want to try!”
He snags my wrist. “There is more to knife throwing than just getting the technique right. You have to be able to calculate the distance to the target correctly.” He glances at the board.
“We’re a bit farther than a body length, so the throw I showed you would be the best bet for a beginner.
But if we move farther back…” He picks up the rest of the set of pink knives.
Then he pulls me away from the table, almost tripling the distance to the target but not quite.
“It would be easier for you to throw from the handle.” Raising his arm in the same motion as before, he throws it at the target. It misses the bull’s eye this time, landing at the same height, but more to the right.
“Can’t you hit the same spot?” I tease.
A small, confident smirk tugs at his lips. In movements too fast for me to follow, he throws the remaining knives. All four of them embed into the board, creating a nice, tight triangle with the other two.
Laughing, I jump up and down as I clap my hands. “That is so cool!”
“Wait until you see the final rounds,” Deirdre says as she walks over with the set of green knives in her hand. “The targets move, and we throw blindfolded.”
“No frickin’ way! Do you actually hit anything then?”
“She doesn’t,” Jace says as he pulls the pink knives free of the target.
“Yes, I do.”
“Only if we let you cheat.”
“And you?” I ask, turning to my king as Jace and Deirdre continue to bicker.
“I never lose,” he says smugly. His eyes roam down my body, attentive and hot. “Although, there is always a first time for everything…”
Please.
I’m torn between wanting him to win or lose though, knowing I still have one more day before the belt gets to come off.
“All right,” Jace says, coming up to us with three sets of knives. “Enough foreplay. Let’s get started.”
“Don’t I get any practice?” I ask as I take the black set he offers me.
“No.”
“But –”
“Trust me.” He smiles. “Even if you lose, you still win.”
“Says the person not wearing a chastity belt,” I mutter.
He laughs. I do not.
“There’s one winner per round,” he explains. “All losers have to take off one piece of clothing.”
“Their own clothing,” Deirdre adds, looking pointedly at Jace. “And as for causing distractions, anything goes.”
I grin as I sneak a glance at my king. “So who goes first?”
“You do, my queen.” Richard walks me back to where he threw the first blade. Placing his knives down on the table, he takes five of my knives off me too. “Hold it by the blade.”
After I do so, he steps behind me. His hands on my hips, he twists my body and kicks my legs apart. Heat races up my spine, and I part my lips on a pant.
His lips tickle my ear as he leans down and whispers, “Relax. You don’t want to be tense when you throw.”
Relaxing all my muscles, I lean back against him and drop the knife.
Jace chuckles, and my cheeks flame red. Bending at the waist, I pick up the blade. Grabbing my hips, Richard holds me to him, his cock already hard and aching. I push back into him, so damn desperate for him to fill me already. It’s been nearly a full bloody week.
A. Full. Week. Of. Edging.
I straighten slowly, feeling him pulse against me as I do so.
A whimper catches in my throat. I stand up fully and raise my arm, sighting the target like he showed me.
His fingers move over mine, and he lifts my arm higher as his other hand splays across my waist. Panting, I struggle to concentrate on the knife rather than his fingers brushing over my clothes.
“Don’t throw it yet,” he murmurs, his head above mine. “I’m going to walk you through it first. When you feel pressure on your hip, that’s when you should release.”
Swallowing tightly, I nod.
He moves my arm back, then arcs it forwards. As it extends towards the target, he squeezes my hip. I shudder beneath his touch. “That’s it. Good girl. Now you try on your own.”
I lick my lips as he steps back. Concentrating on the target, I line up the knife, reel back, and throw it as hard as I can. My eyes widen as I track it on its way to the target. I start to squeal with excitement. It’s going to hit it!
And hit it does. Right before it bounces back and clatters on the floor. My smile falls with it.
“What? Why’d it do that?”
“You threw it too hard. You don’t want it to spin that much. At this distance, you’re aiming for half of a rotation. Throw it slower next time.”
“Slower?”
“Like this.” Picking up a pink blade, he tosses it at the board. I watch it like a hawk as it arcs through the air, and I’m surprised when it doesn’t spin all the way around.
“Oh.” I pause. “Can I go again?”
“Deirdre, give her one of your blades,” Richard says. She scowls at him but does as ordered.
I take it with an apologetic smile. Focusing back on the target, I sight it with the tip, arc my arm back, and throw.
Holding my breath, I watch it tilt through the air.
Half a rotation and it embeds itself into the wall beside the target.
Squealing, I turn to Richard and throw my arms around him. “I did it! I did it!”
“Good girl.” Squeezing my ass, he lifts me up against him. Stepping backwards, he spins us around, then sets me down so we can watch Jace.
His bodyguard doesn’t even bother looking at the board. His knife ends up near mine – or rather, Deirdre’s. “Guess I’m stripping,” he says with a grin.
Holding the necromancer’s gaze, he undoes the ties of his tunic, letting it slide off his body to pool at his feet. I track the tattoos running across his chest. My lips part as I lean back and rub myself against Richard’s cock.
“Take off your bra,” my king murmurs, sliding his hands over my clothing to cup my breasts.
I start to undo the buttons of my jumpsuit, but he grabs my hands and forces my arms up around the back of his neck.
I hold on as he pulls out one of his personal knives and runs its sharp edge down my side.
I shiver at the feel of its bite sliding through the fabric.
Slipping the blade into my clothes, he cuts the bra strap.
Breathing heavily, I notice Jace’s and Deirdre’s eyes are on me. She’s taken off a belt, and he’s standing behind her, his hands running up and down her body. My mouth waters as I imagine his hands on me, and I wonder if the four of us will fuck tonight.
When Richard moves the knife to the other side of my jumpsuit, I shiver. I press my ass against him, my pussy so ready to be pounded. Moving his hand between my legs, he runs his finger along the blasted belt.
“Can I please take it off?” I beg.
“Your bra,” he whispers. Kissing my shoulder, he pulls his hand away from my pussy and sheaths his knife.
Holding Jace’s hot and heavy gaze, I tug the pink lace through one of the slits. As the soft material slides across my erect nipples, a moan escapes me. My eyes flutter close for just a second. Panting, I pull my bra free and offer it to Richard.
He tosses it to Jace. His friend catches it, then cups it over his cock.
“Is he going to join us again?” I ask breathlessly.
Nipping my shoulder, Richard growls. “No.”
“Is Deirdre?”
“No.” Short and clipped, the word was final and more than a little hostile. A shiver of fear shoots down me as I wonder if I actually saved her from his murderous rage or if I just prolonged the inevitable.
Grabbing his hand, I turn and whisper, “Are you going to kill her after this?”
His eyes caress mine. “Not if her story checks out.”
Kissing me on the lips, he guides my hand to his cock. I stroke his nice, hard length, making him groan. His cock pulses against my palm. I start to wrap my fingers around it, but he pulls my hand away.
Showing me to the table, he picks up a black knife and hands it to me. When I take it, he guides me through the motions again before stepping out of the way.