Chapter 37
Ihave to make this right. Even if I didn’t know how, I have to try. And I’ll use everything at my disposal to get her to trust me again. Now that she’s seen me, all of me, her burning gaze is the hardest thing to face. It’s what I hoped to never see in her eyes.
The fear, the hurt and betrayal.
And I’m the reason for it all.
She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel all her emotions from here. I can see the walls I started to break through begin to rebuild around her heart, and it hurts more than anything else.
I reach for the knife in my pocket and slip it into her hand, watching her breath shake as she inhales. “Hurt me like I’ve hurt you.”
Her eyes widen a touch.
“Mark me with your pain, Isla. Carve your name onto my skin so your blood can mix with mine.” I whisper, lowering my lips to hers as the blade clicks open in her hand.
She hesitates, before the cool tip of the blade rests on my chest.
“Take off your jacket,” she commands in a low voice. Tonight, there is nothing else on my mind but making her the centre of my universe, like she has always been. Easing the jacket off, I let it fall to the floor. “The shirt too.”
It comes off easily, and she steps into me like she’s waiting for my permission.
The pressure of the blade on my chest is just enough to cause discomfort, but she doesn’t break the skin.
I know a part of her wants to. I can see it in the way she grips the handle with confidence, the feisty anger beneath her stare.
I can sense it emanating from her, but I don’t know if she will follow through.
“Kneel for me.”
The blade never leaves my pec as I lower myself until my knees touch the ground, my gaze controlled by hers.
The material of her black dress falls effortlessly around her curves, the two splits on either sides of her legs, accentuating the dark ink on her skin.
I want to trace my tongue over ever dark swirl until she’s quivering for my tongue between her legs.
I drove for thirty minutes before Emmett could find me a safe house, one we used when we were on the run.
No one would guess who it belonged to. Nestled into the working suburbs where most of London’s civilians only care about getting to work on time.
No one nose-diving into anyone else’s business, and it’s exactly what we need right now.
Space.
“You once said to me you weren’t above begging,” she says, lifting the hem of her skirt over her hip before hooking her fingers into the G-string beneath and slipping them off.
I stifle a groan, swallowing the saliva pooling in my mouth as she unzips her dress and steps out, standing bare before me. “Show me.”
My mouth waters at the sight of her leaning against the newly renovated kitchen bench.
Before I can move forward to bury my head between her legs, she stops me, pressing the tip of the knife to my throat. She’s not going to make this easy for me, but luckily, I’ve never had anything easy in my life. I know how to work for it, and I’m ready to.
“Before we start, swear to me that Benedict and my father will get everything they deserve, and not in the way the justice system sees fit,” she whispers without taking her eyes off mine. “Swear to me that I will be their justice.”
I nod once. “I swear.”
I don’t know how I’m going to move this past Ezra, but that isn’t for me to figure out right now because none of it matters without Isla. I force the thought out of my mind and remind myself that this is what I’ve been waiting for.
“Put your hands behind your back,” she demands, and the blood rushes to my cock at her assertiveness.
I don’t think I’ve ever been with a dominatrix, but fuck, Isla would make a perfect one.
It hardens beneath my trousers, painfully erect at the way she towers over me.
I’ve always hated taking orders, especially when I knew there was a better way to get the things I wanted, but I could get used to hearing them come from her seductive lips.
I do what she wants and hide a smile when her nipples harden. What I wouldn’t give to be in her mind right now, able to hear her thoughts.
“If you want my forgiveness,” she says, stepping closer to me. Her fingers dig valleys through my hair, and I lean into the contact, her touch warm. Tugging my head back, a darkness blankets her eyes. “You will bleed for it.”
I want to palm my cock to silence it, but I stay exactly where I am. Not because I’m afraid, but because I want more. She leans down, her lips mere inches from mine as the blade sinks into my skin, slow and cruel.
And I take it. Every cut of her anger and every drop of her fury.
If only she knew exactly how I feel, how long I’ve been starving for her, even when I was with her. She has no clue how much I want her to trust me again, for her to see me and hold me the way she did before I fucked it all up.
She pulls back a touch, the blood trickling from the blade, down my chest.
“Is this what you want?” she murmurs, the darkness in her eyes switching to a heated stare as she drags the knife down my chest. The sting follows the metal as she carves me like I asked her to.
“Yes.” My breathing ragged, I watch her take what’s rightfully hers. “Take what you need from me, but don’t fucking run. Never fucking run again.”
She pauses, the knife lifting from my skin as she places it onto the bench behind me. Then her fingers tangle into my hair again, pulling back hard.
“Can you live without my forgiveness?”
“As long as I get to be with you, Isla, you can punish me for the rest of my life,” I say, leaning forward, my mouth brushing the soft skin on her stomach.
She exhales a slow, trembling breath, the heat from her body warm on my lips.
I press another kiss onto her stomach, then another.
Her hand stills in my hair when I look up to catch her stare.
Her eyes are tainted with mascara, swimming with unshed tears.
I know she loves to remain in complete control, but I can see just how close she is to falling apart.
“You can’t fix this with some pretty words and promises.”
“No, I can’t. But I can give you my pain in place of yours.
” My hands glide over her legs, ascending to the outside of her thighs.
She places her hand on my bleeding chest, pressing it flat over my pounding heart.
“It’s been yours ever since I was a boy.
What you do with it is your choice. Rip it out and tear it to shreds if you want. ”
Her jaw ticks as she stares at me.
Then her hand meets my cheek hard, the slap echoing in the silence. I don’t blink or make a move, I just wait for her to do it again, but her hand trembles, still raised beside my face.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” I whisper, the relief flooding over me as I watch her gather the courage to do it again.
She let the wall down. Even if for a moment, she let me in again, and I’m taking it as an olive branch. Whether or not it contains forgiveness, I don’t care.
She made contact.
“Shut up,” she rasps, and I smile.
“Is this becoming our thing?” I ask in a low tone, and her lips twitch. She either wants to smile or hit me again.
And she does.
My head whips to the side, and I huff a laugh when she grips the hair on the top of my head, wrenching my gaze back to hers.
“No, you don’t get to enjoy this.”
“Oh, but I am.”
Her skin feels like velvet beneath my touch as I glide my hands up toward her bare hips. I’d like nothing more than to drive myself so deep inside her that we become one. I want to live in her fucking skin, breathe the air she does, and taste the words on her tongue.
She kneels in front of me, hastily unbuckling my belt and throwing it to the side, the metal sliding across the tiled floor and hitting the fridge. Unbuttoning and unzipping my trousers, she pulls me out and wraps both hands around my hard cock.
“Hands behind your back, Faris,” she orders, gripping me harder. It’s like a punishment within a reward.
Clasping my hands behind my back, I watch the determination in her eyes as the saliva strings down from her mouth onto the tip of my cock. She doesn’t relent in her grip, squeezing harder when I groan.
I know I like pain, but when it’s Isla doing the damage, it’s a hundred times better.
“Do you want my mouth on it?” she asks, lowering her mouth and hovering over me. Her hot breath fans over my dick, making it twitch.
“I do.”
“Tell me exactly what you want. Don’t be shy.”
Her hand moves up my cock, over the crown, spreading her saliva over me, and I almost lose it.
Don’t fucking come. Don’t fucking come!
“I want your mouth on my cock,” I groan, watching her hands move over me. My body tenses as she pumps me up and down slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Do you deserve to have my mouth on your cock?”
She draws a deep breath and blows right beneath the crown.
“Fuck!” My head falls back. If we weren’t in a fight right now, with the objective of winning her back, I would take her so fucking hard on the floor. “You’re killing me.”
I look down at her tongue tracing her bottom lip as she cups my balls. “If you think this is killing you—” She pulls down hard, and my entire body responds.
A zap of pain and pleasure has me clenching my jaw, my breath heavy as I let out a moan followed by a low laugh. She raises her brow, tugging harder at my response.
“Fuck me!” I’ve never heard my voice like this. Tinged with insurmountable pleasure and desperation. “Isla, please, ride me.”
A triumphant smile spreads across her lips. “Keep begging me, and I just might.”
I don’t know how much more I can take of her torture, but I’m ready to go all night if that’s what she wants.
I’m ready for this to be part of her reckoning.
There’s always three sides to every story—hers, mine, and the truth.
And in hers, right now, I’m the villain, but I’m ready for our sides to merge and become one.
“How much longer do you plan on torturing me?”
She smiles, the warmth of her tongue at the base of my cock, leisurely roaming up to the tip, but she stops and pulls back before she meets the crown.
“Until I’m satisfied,” she answers, releasing my balls.
She’s now on all fours, placing light kisses over my stomach, then my chest. She gathers the blood still trickling down my skin and climbs onto my lap.
My arms ache to be around her, but she’s one step ahead.
There’s a warning in her eyes as I feel the heat from her core over me.
My breath catches in my throat as I stare at her.
She looks like a fucking deity with my blood decorating her lips, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, looking like the woman I fell in love with.
Confident.
Decadent and fucking breathtaking.
She lowers herself further, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I feel her sit on me, her pussy already wet, warm, and ready. She rolls her hips, gliding her slit over my cock, the top flush against my stomach.
I close my eyes, ready to chant whatever fucking words I need to so I don’t fucking come, when she grips my chin and my eyes snap open. “Look at me when I’m punishing you.”
Fuck, I might just come from the way she looks at me.
I focus on the pain in my clenched jaw as she grinds over me again, but I don’t move. I let her take what she wants until she’s the one begging me.
“Go on, Little Nycto, take what you need from me.”
Metal slides against stone, then I feel the sharp edge of the knife on my neck again.
“If you take your eyes off me for even a second, I will carve my name onto your cock,” she breathes onto my lips before slamming hers down and taking what’s rightfully hers.
What’s always been hers.
I kiss her back, forcing my tongue into her mouth and tasting the anger in her warmth.
I want to take it and smother it, turn it into the passion I know she feels for me beneath the hurt.
Her warning wasn’t a threat, but a cryptic request because both our eyes are closed as I clench my fists behind me, my nails digging into my palm to stop myself from breaking her rules again.
She doesn’t try to pull away. Instead, she grinds over my cock, soaking me in her slick arousal, breathless in the wake of our passion.
My teeth scrape against her lower lip, drawing blood, but I don’t stop.
“You’re mine,” I growl, the skin on my palm stinging from how hard I’m clenching. “And I’ll never, ever break the law.”
She pauses, meeting my gaze as she continues to hold the blade to my throat. “It’s a bit late for that promise.”
“No, Isla.” I smile, watching the blood pool on her bottom lip before it drops. “One heart. One love—”
“One life,” she whispers, before the blade clatters to the floor and she grips my face in her hands, swallowing the breath in my lungs like she needs it to survive.
“Touch me,” she pleads, and my arms come around her, holding her close to me, afraid that if I let go, she’ll choose to torture me again.
I can’t think of anything but the devastatingly beautiful woman in front of me as I shift beneath her, moving us to lay her gently on her back.
We’ll have plenty of chances to fuck in a bed, so tonight, I’m taking her right here.
I’m making her scream my name until she’s too spent to even whisper it.
Isla fucking Knight is my dream, my obsession, and the one commandment I can never break, even when she almost destroyed me.
Even when she makes it her mission to continue to try.