29 #3
“Yes,” I say in a low voice. He moves back a few inches with a smile and a look I’ve never seen before. He seems like a whole different person.
“Good,” he replies, licking my neck, slowly savoring every inch of my skin. “Because I will make you hurt and bleed.”
That’s all he says before he starts planting wet kisses all over my body until he reaches my heels. I gasp when he runs the sharp edge across the skin of my stomach, reaching my navel without going too deep. Seeing the threads of blood sliding down onto the sheets, I pale a little.
He observes the crimson red stains with amazement.
Then he runs his tongue over every trace of the reddish liquid, moaning hoarsely as he tastes it.
He does the same thing again, this time cutting part of my inner thighs and bringing his face closer, sucking on the bloody skin.
The burning sensation caused by his tongue on my recent cuts makes me press my lips together, stifling a moan as my folds throb with strange excitement.
The blade sinks back into my lower belly, the blood now flowing more freely, but it hasn’t been a very deep cut.
He brings his bloodstained finger to my lips, caressing my lower lip with a demand that he doesn’t need to voice for me to understand.
He presses his mouth against mine until there is not a single inch left, mixing the blood with our saliva.
The burning sensation mixes with the pain every time he caresses the wounds.
When his nails graze the opening of one of them I squeeze my eyelids shut. The pain becoming more intense now, but even so, I find pleasure in how his fingers want to get into my wounds, as if he wanted to be under my skin.
“It feels so good,” he whispers on my lips in a rough voice.
I don't know what disturbs me more: what's happening to me, or the fact that I'm enjoying it as much or even more than he is. It’s as if a part of me that I didn’t know existed has been awakened. When he moves away, his lips are covered in blood. His hands and part of his torso are stained with the same. I didn’t realize when he grabbed a bottle in his hands with something that he then pours between my cheeks.
The wounds are still bleeding, so the liquid ends up reddish in colour.
I stifle a scream when he thrusts all the way back into my aching core.
His thrusts are neither slow nor gentle, stretching my already sore walls without caring if he could tear me in two.
His two fingers penetrate my tight rear, making me scream in surprise and pain.
He begins to move them inside me at the same pace he is using to break me open.
The line between pain and pleasure is so thin that I can barely distinguish between them.
I tilt my head back when he pulls away only to see the head of his penis disappear into my rear entrance, but I don’t stop him.
The effort he’s making not to go any further is reflected in the tension in his toned arms. That scares me, because I don’t know how far he might go if he ends up losing control.
He throws his head back, his face contorted with pleasure, pulling himself out very slowly and then thrusting back in with such force that I think this time he has broken something inside me. The spit he used to slick my skin slides down onto the sheets.
“More,” I dare to say, my voice choked with pleasure.
His hand goes to my neck, cutting off my breath. Not enough so that my lungs can’t get any oxygen.
“When I’m done with you, there won’t be a piece of your soul I haven’t worshiped. I’ll break you and take everything you’ll give me like the good little demon you are,” he murmurs against my lips without stopping his thrusts.
Tears roll onto the pillow as my body shakes with an orgasm, but I know it won’t be the last. My insides twist, sending the last waves of my climax over his pelvis as black spots begin to fill my vision.
My wrists are released after a while. The last thing I feel as I’m about to fall unconscious is him making his way into my tight entrance with the help of his fingers as his tongue sweeps the remaining blood from my stomach.
I reluctantly open my eyes when the sun’s rays fall on my face. I try to ignore them, but I still can’t get back to sleep, so I sit up in bed and cover myself with the sheets. My whole body hurts like hell, and my private parts are on fire.
I search the room for any sign of him, but he’s not there, so I just sit on the bed waiting for him to come back.
The sheets are bloody and a mess. I look at the cuts on my body and the bruises of his hands and teeth, my cheeks flushing with shame.
I shouldn’t want more. I know it’s not normal to want to be at his mercy like that again.
I make an effort to overcome the pain and stretch my arm to grab my cell phone and distract my mind with something else. My eyes fall on a message from an unknown number. I open the chat with fearful fingers and find a photo of the two of us getting into the helicopter.