“Take what you need, baby. You’re already making a damn mess all over my hand and pants.” I remove my fingers from her, swiping her arousal across the seam of her lips, and her tongue darts out to lick them clean, like the naughty temptress she is, before I return them to her heat. “There’s no sense in fighting this.Yousuggested La Lune Noire, and I’m not …”
Understanding dawns on her. “You don’t have to make this anything special. I just want to forget.”
“You’ll forget. I promise.” Bending into her, I capture her lips, humming in intoxication from her sweet taste mingling with the remnants of the liquor.
She gives back every nip and kiss and lick I offer, moaning in response, until I ease the pace of my fingers and withdraw my mouth from hers.
“Don’t be angry because I want to remember every second of you falling apart for me. Every taste, smell, touch, and sound.”
“I’m not staying all night,” she pants.
“Okay.” I keep my eyes latched to hers and sink my teeth into her lower lip. “I’ll drive you home when we’re done.”
A heavy breath rushes out of her. She didn’t expect me to concede.
“And you’ll tell me everything?”
“Yes. After you come.” I pull my butterfly knife out of my pocket and flick it open with the telltaleclick-clack-rattle. “But, Tess?”
“Yeah?” she rasps, clocking the glint of the balisong before I sneak it around her back, beneath her dress.
“You can keep putting up those walls, but that won’t deter me. I’ll keep tearing through them.” Steering the blade up to the junction of the strings connecting her thong on her lower back, I slice the fabric—careful not to ruin her dress—flip the knife closed, and rip the panties off.
She gasps, those ardent blues prancing all over me, eager to see my next move.
“One barrier down,” I gloat, scrunching the pair and bringing them to my mouth to suck her juices off them. A growl rips from my lungs. “You taste divine. I’ve been dreaming about what ecstasy looks like on you. I need to see it.”
I tuck both the balisong and her panties in my pocket, exchanging them for my Karambit knife, nearly identical to the one I gave her. When I raise the curved blade in front of her line of vision, I heed the second she sees where this is headed, and I memorize that voracious slant of her features. Everything with Tessa is more thrilling than my mind could fathom.
Lifting her up with one arm, I stab the knife into the velvet booth between my legs, savoring the throaty wheeze that puffs out of her. I lower her until she’s braced with her knees outside of my thighs and the finger ring at the tip of the handle prods her wet opening.
My girl likes control, so I give her a choice.
“If you don’t want me to spread you out on this table and feast on your delectable cunt for anyone to see, start moving and show me what thatrecreational useyou mentioned entails.”
She dithers, suspended above the handle with a decision to view it as either a weapon or a toy. It’s an apt parallel to the girl in my arms and her inner battle, her strong will trying to claw through her desperate need to let go. Ultimately, her lust triumphs. She drops down and swivels her hips. A shuddering breath tumbles from her with a whimper, and she digs her nails into my shoulders as she moves.
Angling forward, she presses against me, bringing the knife with her. The curve of the handle is aimed at me, so it must be hitting right at her G-spot, and her clit is rubbing against my throbbing dick.
“That’s it, baby.” I plunge my finger inside her ass, matching her rhythm, and she eagerly takes it. “Fuck, Tess. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
My balls tighten, hunger snaking through my abs and spine. It’s going to require superhuman strength not to come right here with her grinding into me like this and her face already painted in unadulterated rapture.
Her eyes start to close, so I clutch her chin with my free hand.
“Eyes on me, Nightmare. This day, those sounds, that about-to-tip glow on your face—all mine.”
In the next second, I sense her escalating, climbing rapidly to the summit. She sinks down further, her hushed purrs accelerating with her rapid breaths. And the cabaret—with its eccentric singers and up-tempo piano, flickering candles and red stage lights, prestigious guests and Noire nostalgia—fades, becoming the backdrop for what I already know is the greatest moment of my life.
She picks up her pace, her mouth agape, her limbs shaking. “I’m gonna …”
“That’s my good girl.” I cup her face, sweeping my thumb across her cheekbone, just below her mask, and watch her unravel before my eyes. “I’ve got you, Tess. Fuck that knife, the same way you’ll be strangling my cock later.”
Her ass clenches, throttling my finger. Tremors rocket through her. And the most erotic whimper I’ve ever heard washes over me, far outshining the crescendo of the cabaret singers.
“Shh,” I warn, though no one else can hear her beyond the show. “You’re a fucking fantasy.” I palm the back of her head and crash my mouth into hers, devouring her sounds as she adopts a slower pace and floats down from her high.
She curls herself around me when she’s satiated, and I remove my finger from her ass to simply hold her. She nestles her face against my neck as my arms engulf her like armor. We stay that way for several minutes while her breathing evens out, her body relaxing into mine, my knife still buried to the hilt within her.
