EXTRA CHAPTER
ALEXANDRA JONES
THE HONEYMOON
PATIENTLY WAITING FOR ARES TO FINISH SHOWERING, I slide out the box from my suitcase and slowly set it onto the bed. I add a red bow around it and adjust my lingerie, pushing my breasts up slightly. The shower door opens, and I watch as Ares wraps the towel around his waist before looking up. His eyes darken the moment they find me, “I got you a gift.” I speak, picking the box up. He walks towards me, glancing down at the box. I watch as the water droplets fall from his damp hair.
He grabs the end of the red bow, tugging onto it until it falls to the floor, then removing the cover of the box and propping it onto the bed. He removes the tissue paper, before being met with a Damascus pocketknife. “What is this?”
“Open it.”
He takes the knife out, a smile spreading across his face as he flicks the knife open. I watch as his eyes trail the engraved words, ‘Diávolos.’ I thought he would like the gift, a cute sentiment to the butterfly necklace he got me.
“I love it.” He finally says, allowing me to breathe out.
He slowly grazes the tip of the knife up my arms, I gasp from the sensation as he steps closer. His mouth lingering inches away from mine, “how are you so beautiful?” I close my eyes, resting my forehead against his, “look how your body reacts to me…”
And then, in a heartbeat, the sharp blade of the knife presses against my throat, a chilling reminder of the perilous dance we were engaged in. My eyes flew open in alarm, my pulse quickening with the sudden rush of fear coursing through me.
“I want to see your blood in my hands, I want to see what sort of red it might be...burgundy, scarlet or crimson red.”
Before I could even process the danger, he tosses the weapon aside with a casual flick of his wrist, the metallic clang echoing in the air like a sinister symphony. And then, with a swift and unexpected motion, he captured my lips in a deep, consuming kiss. His hands wrap around my throat as he pushes me onto the bed. I land with a soft thud, the air leaving my lungs in a rush as he hovers over me, his eyes dark with desire.
“My bets are on crimson.”
Straddling me, he held out his hand, his command leaving no room for disobedience.
“Give me your hands,” he demands, his voice low and commanding. Without hesitation, I comply, offering him my hands as he bound them tightly with the ribbon, securing them above my head to the hotel bedframe.
Really tight.
The silk ribbon bit into my skin, and I found myself completely at his mercy. I gasp, my body tingling with anticipation as his lips found mine, trailing down my throat with a hunger that left me breathless.
His fingers dance teasingly along the edge of my panties, the thin fabric the only barrier between us. I arch against him.
With a flick of his wrist, he produces the pocketknife, the blade glinting ominously in the dim light of the room. My heart pounds in my chest as he slices through the delicate fabric of my underwear. “Ares!” He smirks, sliding the destroyed underwear and hovering over me. He pulls my lips open and shoves it inside of my mouth.
I choke back a protest, the taste of fabric and desire mingling on my tongue as he effectively blocks any sound from escaping. My eyes met his, a silent plea for mercy reflect in their depths, but all I found is a hunger that mirrors my own.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. His hands spread my legs apart and cups my pussy. A soft moan escapes me as his fingers teases the sensitive flesh, trailing teasingly up and down before he pushes a single finger inside.
My body arches involuntarily against him, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure courses through me. I moan into the fabric gagging my mouth, my eyes locking with his as he smirks down at me, a knowing glint in his eyes.
“You’re so fucking wet already...”
He slides his finger out, and I raise a brow as I feel the coldness of metal against my thigh.
I feel the flat surface of the knife press onto my cunt, “I want you to cum on this knife, Alexandra.” My eyes shoot open, he flips the knife around. He held the blade in the palm of his hands and the handle against my throbbing cunt. Without warning, he pushes the handle within, stretching my walls. I slump back, my eyes clasps shut, my arousal flowing with newfound zeal. The adrenaline surge of my orgasm is heavy in my blood, and even the smallest movements felt amazing. Ares moves slowly, fucking the handle in and out of me.
I let out a long moan, he pushes it in deeper.
“Look at me, don’t turn your pretty face away. I want to see you cum on my knife.” I groan, feeling his thumb rub circles around my clit. I shift my face to the side; however, he grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him. And my eyes fall down to his neck, only to realise he has a new tattoo.
A tattoo of my bite mark.
A smirk spreads across his face.
Diávolos....