35. Matilde #2
He pats my leg, my signal to spread them wider. Then, he really dives in, his entire face buried in my pussy with his free hand sliding up my thigh. He probes my entrance, and I close my eyes, savoring the sensations Nico teases out of me with his devotion and skill.
Slowly, he licks his lips, letting me admire his face for once. “All clean, my good girl. Now, give me more of your sweet honey,” he growls before going right back to eating me. He’s too good at what he’s doing for me to even consider refusing, and I come again… and again.
Soon I’m weeping, overcome with ecstasy and overwhelmed with fatigue, no longer able to stand. “Sit,” he commands, pulling my leg over his shoulder and directing me until I’m pressed between him and the wall.
Straddling his strong shoulders with his hands cupping my ass, he keeps me upright and keeps licking my pussy, wringing every last spiral of pleasure from me until I beg for mercy. "Please, Nico… I can't."
"We'll work on your stamina," he teases, but he's holding me. I'm a boneless heap in his lap.
“We did that. Here,” I whisper, partly mortified but mostly surprised at myself. He kisses my ear, cradling my back against his chest.
Glancing down, I notice the knife sheath and remember what he did earlier tonight. “Have you ever brought your knife to bed?” I ask, curiously.
“I’ve slept with it, sure.”
“No, I mean for other things,” I say, twisting my neck around to face him.
My cheeks heat as his eyebrows draw together, ferreting out my meaning. He gives me a dark smile when he’s certain of it. “No. There’s never been a woman I trusted enough for that.”
I’m not certain if I like that answer or not. “You once warned me I would know your knife… intimately.”
“It was a threat, Matilde. One I may have meant at the time, but I’d die before I hurt you.”
“I trust you. Do you trust me?” Softly, I let my fingers trail over the handle. There’s a rumbling sound deep in his chest when he pulls his knife from the sheath and lightly traces my hipbone with the leather handle. Goosebumps cover my flesh. “You have thought of it?” I prod.
“I have. I love my knives, and I am a monster… but one you alone can command. There’s enough violence in my life without mixing the two. You never need to fear sex with me, tesoro.”
“I don’t fear it.”
He studies me shrewdly; the master lie detector at work.
Once he’s sure, he switches to Italian, wanting to be sure I understand every word.
“Communication would be crucial. You would have to be specific, and we would set boundaries. You say stop, I will stop. I will not cut you, Matilde. I can’t.
The only pain that’s permitted is the kind that enhances your pleasure. ”
“You are so sure that I wouldn’t like that sort of pain.”
He smirks, knowing me better than I want to admit. “Positive. But if you want the knife, if you wish to use it on me, I’m open to that.”
He surprises me, offering me the handle.
I carefully push it back toward him.
“My husband is the best with a blade, they say. I know you can bring me pleasure without causing me pain. No more than I’ll enjoy anyway. Your wife is curious enough to explore.” My voice has turned sultry, and he tenses with fresh eagerness.
Carefully, he presses the tip against my tender belly, moving it back and forth to create a light scratching sensation.
Such a simple touch yet it’s magnified by the intoxicating blend of adrenaline and heightened focus.
I exhale slowly, watching his movements and wanting, clinging to his darkness while safely discovering something new.
“How many men did you kill when you saved those girls tonight?”
“Do you really wish to know?” The blade is almost ticklish as he traces my hip bone.
“I asked.”
“Just five tonight. I had men with me.”
Five.
Five deaths he caused.
My avenging monster.
He killed the man who killed my mother. He killed men who would’ve hurt my sister. He’ll kill the men who hurt me.
“When you kill for me again, will you think of me?”
The knife plucks at my bracelet, pulling it taunt against my wrist. “I always think of you, my little nymph.”
“Is there a way you might think of me even more when you kill for me next time?” Laying my head back on his shoulder, I spread my legs. Tempting him. Daring him.
“Fuck.”
He slides the handle between my thighs. The supple leather brushes my slit, coating it with my wetness and pumping fresh lust into our veins.
He nuzzles my throat, inhaling deeply while continuing to carefully tease me with the knife handle.
In and out. Just an inch or so. Edging me, owning me, tugging me deeper into our shared divine madness.
"It's cutting your hand, Nico." He's holding it by the blade.
He chuckles as if that's a joke. "Do you want me to stop pleasuring you?"
“No, but you are holding something. I want to hold something, too,” I tell him, reaching back to wrap my hand around his cock.
It’s hard again and sweat dots his brow as I begin to stroke him.
All the while, he continues teasing me with the knife’s handle, slowly, methodically, working me up and blowing me apart.
The wave breaks with me shuddering helplessly in his lap. My hand’s movement speeds up until he groans with his surrender. He lays the knife aside, the handle glistening with my arousal, the blade wet with his blood, and his sticky cum clinging to my flesh.
“If my stepmother saw me now, she would say she was right. Sinful like my mother. But somehow this does not feel wrong.” He raises his eyebrows, a smug smile tugging at his firm lips. “There is a wildness inside me, and I am my father’s daughter. Born in sin but unashamed of it.”
He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t feel any shame, and I carry enough sin for us both. You are spirited and headstrong, but you are good and kind-hearted, too. You are my light and my hope, Matilde. Let me be your knife in the dark and pay no mind to what anyone else would say of you.”