Chapter 24 #3
“Oh f-fuck,” I whisper, my teeth chattering with adrenaline.
A corner of his mouth curls and he does it again, sliding his tongue through my folds before circling the nub of nerve endings. He stares at me the whole time, watching my reactions closely.
Then he closes his eyes and curls his tongue into my entrance, rubbing my clit with his nose. He slowly fucks me with his tongue, and when he purrs into my flesh, the vibrations tickle my spine.
I begin to feel delirious with want. While I love the feeling of his tongue inside me, I need more. Shifting my hips a little, I gyrate on his face, swooning at the murmurs of approval he feeds my pussy.
I hear the tearing of a wrapper but I can’t see past his lowered lids and suckling lips.
The snap of rubber makes me stiffen. He senses it and pulls back, watching me. I glance down. He’s holding the machete beneath me, the rounded handle pointing up between my legs. My breaths shorten. What the hell is he going to do?
“This is the only time I plan to use a rubber on you,” he growls deep, then sheaths the handle with a condom.
My mouth falls open.
“Spread your legs,” he commands.
“Fiero…”
Part of me wants to gag, but another part—a part so apparently dark I didn’t know it could linger in my bones—wants to fuck the weapon that killed my abuser, to revel in the gruesome torture he experienced in his final minutes.
My gaze flicks nervously to Fiero.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
I nod slowly. I trust him.
“I need you to stay still, okay? Let me do the work.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and something flares in his gaze. He lunges forward and sucks my clit into his mouth as the upper curve of the machete handle breaches my entrance.
It doesn’t feel like Fiero’s dick. It doesn’t warm me or adapt to my shape or fill out to touch every sensitive edge. It’s solid and unyielding.
He laps at my clit, distracting me for a moment, then pushes the handle in a couple more inches.
To my horror, I welcome it. My pussy needs something to grip, to relieve the muscles yearning for fulfillment.
“More,” I whisper.
He drags his tongue through my folds and pushes the knife handle all the way in, then pauses to let me catch my breath.
It’s thinner than his dick but I feel it deeper inside me. What I love most is the feel of his fingers brushing my entrance as he holds the blade in place. I’m taking the entire handle.
Wait… If the entire handle is inside me, how is he holding onto it?
“Fiero…”
He looks up and pulls away slightly, his chin glistening with my arousal. Beneath him I see his hand holding the blade and blood is dripping from it to the polished floor.
“No—your hand…”
He shakes his head slowly like he’s not at all concerned.
“I want you to come all over this blade, Pfeiffer.”
His gaze is dark, his conviction unmistakable. He’s not going to let go of that blade until he’s made me come.
I blink, drunkenly. I’m already halfway there.
“Do it,” I purr.
His lips curve and he keeps his eyes on me as he presses his open mouth to my pussy. His tongue swirls and my lids fall shut, my head falling back on my shoulders.
“Oh God.”
He moves the weapon in and out of my pussy—long and deep and unapologetic.
My head drifts, all my focus on the sensation of being fucked with solid wood while soft lips suckle on my clit. I don’t know when I begin to writhe but I want more. I need more.
My knees bend, bringing me even closer to Fiero’s mouth. Picking up speed, he fucks me with the machete while feasting between my thighs. I’m so close my legs are trembling.
He moans into me, losing himself in the moment, the knife going deeper and harder.
“I’m going to come,” I gasp, my stomach muscles wrecked from the preliminary contractions.
One final suck and my entire pussy is throbbing inside his mouth as he spears me with the machete handle, over and over, punching my g spot with the curved wooden crown until I’m seeing galaxies.
My orgasm rolls for days as his ravenous breaths reach my ears, the wet slap of his tongue setting off more tremors that have me milking the machete like it’s a real dick. My mouth falls open and a sound like a dying animal hits the walls. Tears stream down my face.
His licks grow tender as my tremors soften, and he keeps the blade in place.
When I finally uncurl my toes, he pulls the machete free and holds it up between us. My come is sliding down the blade, mingling with the blood from his palm. When he drops it to the floor I fall into his lap and take hold of his hand.
I feel him watching me so I glance up to see his gaze swimming in awe. Gently, I lick away the blood until the blade wound is clear, then I press my thumb along the length of it to curb the bleeding and feed my tongue into his mouth.
Fiero Bellucci has unleashed something in me. Something feral and vengeful and dangerous. Something I’m terribly afraid of. But at the same time I feel safe.
No one can hurt me, not even myself.
Not while Fiero Bellucci is intent on killing every monster that tries to touch me.