“That you ain’t safe.”
“From what?”Her head tilts.“From you?”
I don’t answer.I can’t.Because the real answer is dangerous.The real answer is standing in front of her with a knife already burning a line in his thigh.
And worse, my cock is already rock hard.
For her.
For the knife.
For the idea of the two of them in the same space, the same air, the same breath.I’m halfway across the room before my brain catches up to my body.She watches me the entire time.Steady.Almost serene.Like she’s daring me to make the mistake we both know I want to make.
“You almost kissed me,” she says quietly.She refuses to let the fact go.
I stop inches from her knees.
“Yes,” I say, and I sound whipped.
She lets out a soft, slow breath.“Why didn’t you?”
Because the second my mouth touches yours, I won’t stop.Because I will drag you under me, chain and all, and taste the entirety of the sin you keep offering up.Because I’ll carve my name into your flesh, into your soul and never let you go.
Instead of answering, I reach into my hoodie and pull out one of my knives.
Her eyes flick to it instantly.Not with fear.Something else.
Want.
“You always carry one of those,” she murmurs.
“Knives don’t jam.They don’t misfire.They don’t leave casings,” I tell her.“Guns make messes.Knives leave nothing but truth.”
Truth and temptation.
I shouldn’t even be holding it around her.Not when she looks at it like it’s another part of my body, she wants her mouth on.
She swallows, but she doesn’t lean back.“Are you gonna threaten me with it?”
“No.”
“Then why show it to me?”
I drag the blade lightly across my palm, not enough to cut, just enough to feel the weight of it.The promise of it.The sharp reminder of who I am.
“To remind myself why touching you is a mistake,” I say.
It’s a mistake, but it’s an inevitability.
She uncurls slowly, like a cat stretching, and places her chained wrist on her leg.Her hand settles seductively between her thighs.The chain rattles as she strokes herself through her shorts.She lifts her other hand and touches the flat of the blade.
My breath stops.
Pressing her fingertip to the steel, her eyes lock on mine.“Feels hard.”
“You shouldn’t touch that.”
“Then take it back.”
