Epilogue #2
I won’t last if she keeps narrating that memory.
I step closer and she shakes her head. “No. Take a seat.” She gestures behind me, and I look to the left, seeing my large desk chair.
I keep my eye trained on her and take a seat in my chair.
Her command makes me tremble. I like being in control most of the time, but when she gets like this, I love it too. I like the demanding side of her.
She stands a few feet from me and trails the knife up her belly and between her vest, touching her nipples, and down to her belly button. The sharp point keeps my focus, and when the tip hits her mound, I grab my cock, fisting it.
“I want you to fuck me with the handle first and then I’m going to cut you.”
She walks toward me and hands me the knife, handle side first. The moment I take it from her, she lifts her leg, resting her foot on my thigh. That honeysuckle scent mixed with her arousal reaches my nose. The sight of her swollen tissues holds me hostage.
I flick her nipple with the tip of the blade.
I trail the down over her rib cage and then swirl it around her belly button before I move down and bypass her pussy and move to her inner thigh, tracing her tattoo.
My first mark on her body, then down her knee and down her calf, and finally to the arch of her foot, then back up to her pussy and slide two fingers up her wet seam.
I bend forward and kiss her softly, lick her slick flesh gently.
“Cut me, please Stefan.”
I take the blade and unsheath it, then lift shiny silver metal to her throat.
She starts to tremble, her eyes going wide.
She looks scared, and I realize she’s thinking of that bastard.
I pick up her hand and wrap it around the handle, covering hers with mine, and lift it, moving it to my own throat.
“I would kill myself before I hurt you, Countess. You understand that, right? Let me help erase parts of that night.” She nods, and I bring it back to her neck.
“Keep your hands on the handle, help guide me. You’re in control, baby.
” We both bring the knife down and circle her nipple.
Flicking the knife back and forth over her turgid nipple repeatedly. “Does it hurt?”
She moans and tilts her head back, arching her pretty throat. “Sort of, but I—I like it with you. My adrenaline is rushing through me.”
I guide our hands back up and right over a few of the faint lines. It’s not very clear, but I can see where the tattoos can’t hide all 40 marks. I press inward, adding a bit of tension to her skin. “How does that feel?”
“Good,” she whispers breathlessly.
“That’s what I want, Camryn. I want you to feel good. Knife play is about trust, about knowing that I won’t cross your boundaries. Close your eyes. Concentrate on the feel of it against your skin.”
I move it down to her pussy. “It’s near your pussy now. We are going to take it slow.”
I smell her excitement, the tinge of fear she’s trying to hide.
“Are you afraid?”
“A little.”
“I can smell your pussy from the last time.” I suck the handle into my mouth, collecting any remnants left behind.
I’m a dirty fucker because she has no idea how often I’ve smelled the handle, even long after the perfume of her pussy disappeared.
Now there’s a chance to saturate the ridged leather again.
I slip it inside her, and she moans. “Pinch your nipples. Use your other hand.”
She does what I ask, squirming, twisting on my lap, legs wide, enjoying her pleasure. She pushes up her breasts, pinching her nipples, and I steadily fuck the knife into her.
When she grabs my wrist, I let her guide me the way she wants.
I watch it disappear inside her pink flesh.
The last time I couldn’t see this well. The twilight made it harder.
Now I can see everything. The way her swollen tissues hold onto the handle, the slippery liquid coating it, and her.
I take it out and suck on it, murmuring around the handle.
“So wet, so good, baby.” I reinsert it, tilting the handle so I hit the right spot inside. She cries out,
“Please, Stone. More.”
“You need me to play with your clit, Countess?”
“Yes! Please make me feel it, Stone! You’re the only man who can.”
“I’m the only man who ever will. Every ounce of your pleasure is mine, Countess. And will be until you die.”
“Yes.”
“Put your fingers inside, fuck yourself while I take care of your clit.”
She pushes two fingers inside her pussy eagerly, pushing them in.
The nasty wet sounds fill my office. I smile, thinking about the audio recording device I have planted around the house.
She has no idea that I’m still stalking her.
Stalking the love of my life, secretly capturing her every vocal moment.
For her birthday, I’m going to play them for her.
Fuck her as we listen to her masturbating, her coming on my cock, and tongue, her humming as she paints gorgeous pictures, her talking to my dead sister and niece, telling them about me.
The times when she giggles when I tease her.
The moments when she chats with her friend Kingsley on the phone about how well I fuck her.
Even grumbles when she’s pissed at me make me smile.
Her voice, like her body, is another work of art.
A symphony of everything I can’t live without.
I press the flat side of the knife against her pussy. She jumps slightly, looking down, watching my slow, deliberate movements. “It’s cold,” she moans. I use the edge and drag it up and down her clit, moving slowly against the engorged tissue. We watch it together.
One wrong move and I’ll cut her badly. We both know it, but there’s determination on her face as she rocks her pussy on the sharp edge, using the unforgiving metal to abrade her clit. She whimpers with each pass of her hips.
I continue, and she pulls on her nipple, tugging on the tip with one hand, while she fucks her clit with the other.
She holds my gaze, and I keep hers, wanting to see euphoria on her face. The way her face blushes, her pupils enlarge, her teeth embed in her bottom lip. When she calls my name, it soothes everything inside me. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.
I re-sheath the knife, wanting her safer this time. The way her eyes are glazed, she’s going to come again, and I want her to be able to fuck herself as hard as she needs while I watch her.
Before she can come down from her high, I pick up her hand and wrap it around the handle. “Push it in, baby.”
She pushes the handle back inside, holding the leather covering as she thrusts.
“Fuck, it feels amazing, even better than last time, Stone.” I cover her hand and we both push the handle inside again and again, faster and faster, over and over until she starts cursing, calling my name. “Harder, please. I wanted this so bad.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about your cock since I woke up.”
“My cock is next, baby, but first, come. Come on my knife.”
She holds onto my shoulder and closes her eyes.
“Eyes on me, Camryn. Don’t you fucking look away from me. See how much I love you. How much you have my soul.”
She nods jerkily, my hand covering hers, both our fists soaked with her dripping arousal.
The wet sounds echo in my office, mingled with her cries of pleasure.
Her body locks, freezing in time. A beautiful portrait of ecstasy.
I hold her close, smoothing my hand down her back, letting her luxuriate in the pleasure.
I pull the knife out slowly and hold it while she slumps on my body. I position her legs over my thighs, widening them. I don’t wait, sliding inside her. She groans and holds onto my neck. I let her adjust to my size as usual, taking care because she’s still getting used to my piercings.
“Good?”
She nods sweetly into my neck, kissing my pulse thundering under my skin.
She lifts her head and looks at me like she’s drunk, smiling, kissing my lips, before caging my jaw with her hands. “I love you.”
I wrap one arm around her waist and hold her close, needing to hear it again. “Tell me again.”
She whispers in my ear, “I love you, your cock, your mind. I love everything about you, Stefan Hayes. Now give me the knife. I want to suck your cock while you bleed.”
The look in her eyes sharpens, and I smile. I hand it to her, stifling the urge to fuck her and forget it, but she wants to, and I’m going to let her play tonight. She turns it in her palm before lifting it to her nose.
“It smells like me again. Does it taste like me? Hmmm.” She licks the handle. “Delicious. You want a taste?”
My hands tighten on her hips, and I hold myself as still as possible. This is her time. Her exploration.
She taps the handle on my lips, tapping the handle against my piercings. “Open your mouth. Tastes me.” She puts her hand near my lip and lifts an eyebrow. Watching me, as I open my mouth, she whispers. “Suck it.” The flavor of her pussy bursts on my tongue. I groan. “Do I taste good?”
“Yes.”
Then she slowly drags it from between my lips, trailing it down my chest and over my nipples, leaving a path of our saliva and her arousal behind. The same way I did with her.
“Do you trust me?”
“With everything that I am.”
Emotion flares in her eyes. She presses the knife to my chest above the tattoo I had made for her. I growl, feeling the pinch, the bite of the point into my skin.
“Harder. Deeper, Countess. Make me feel it, baby.”
She swallows, and I feel the tremble in her hand. I reach up and cover it with my own, soothing her nerves. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’d take a thousand cuts from you, remember that. Whether it’s your anger, your nails in my skin when I make you come or when you have my knife in your hand. I’ll take every cut. Every bit of blood I shed is yours.”
A tear drips down her cheek. “I love you, Stefan.”
I catch the tear on my finger and bring it to my mouth, tasting the salty liquid. “Do it.”
She moves the knife slowly across my chest, pressing deep. The sharp steel edge separates my skin, severing blood vessels. The pain goes right to my cock. Her breathing comes faster. I recognize it. I revel in it. She’s turned on, aroused by the sight of my pain.
I look at my chest. A thick line of blood meanders down.
Camryn touches it with a finger. When she brings it to her mouth and licks the crimson off her fingertip, I can’t control the urge.
I push her down harder, and she digs her nails into my chest, crying out my name.
Between the pricks of her fingernails, the cut and blood, I don’t know how long I’ll last.
When she brings the blade to her mouth and licks, sliding her tongue along the dangerous edge, I grip her hips. This time it’s me chanting her name. “Countess, what are you doing to me?”
“Anything I want. Remember. You’re mine, Stefan.”
She leans forward and cuts me again, another small incision, perfectly done.
Her hands are steady, no more tremors. There is no doubt in her eyes.
Soon, I will have three perfect lines. Blood travels down my tattooed body, red mixing with gray and black ink.
Her hands slide through the slippery warmth, smearing it over my nipples, my abs.
She licks and sucks, cleaning each small bud, pulling them between her teeth.
Each bite has me lifting my hips, fucking her from beneath.
She rocks back and forth, riding me, grinding her wet pussy on me. My knife drops to the floor with a loud clatter when she reaches between us, rubbing her clit with her blood-stained hand. My blood.
“Stone, you taste so good.”
“Let me have some.”
Our mouths meet, and I taste myself on her lips. The flavor is sweet and delicious, but also salty and slightly metallic. It’s the taste of us. The taste of my future. And knowing that, I let go, offering her everything I have, my love and my life.