Ignore that.
Take her harder. Fuck that look out of her. Make her fear you.
I pick up the pace even faster, deeper. God she feels incredible.
It’s a blur of ecstasy.
Her walls slam down and my cock is strangled, sending me over the edge.
I let out a primal groan as I spill into her warmth, her greedy pussy pulsing out every drop from my cock.
Holy fuck, she’s perfect.
I shudder, struggling to regain my bearings.
When my eyes flutter open after that earth-shattering orgasm, I see red.
Red-red.
Blood.
She pants, her chest rising and falling. She eyes me cautiously with blood smeared on her face, on her breasts, her neck... everywhere.
I look at my hand, finding a knife clutched in my fist.
Fuck.
Fuck!
What did I do?
Chapter 36
Peighton
The world comes back to me in slow, disjointed pieces.
The hum of the refrigerator, the faint ticking of a wall clock, the scent of flour, sweat, something metallic in the air. My pulse still trips against my ribs, trying to catch up with what just happened.
We’re on the table now, not the counter. Somehow we made it across the room without noticing. My back sticks to the hard surface. Gustav is above me, breath uneven, chest slick with sweat. His body still presses into mine, the slow aftershocks of release softening both of us. His forehead rests against my shoulder like he needs the contact to stay anchored.
Our skin is streaked in white flour.
And blood.
His hand is locked around a knife, knuckles tight, the blade glinting inches from my hip.
I don’t panic. Not this time.
Carefully, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and lift the knife from his grasp. He lets go instantly. The change in his expression is startling as he lifts and takes in the sight of crimson painted on my body. The man who just took me apart like I was made for him now looks like he is bracing to be condemned.
His nostrils flare as he searches my face.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, voice low and rough, “Fuck, did I cut you?”
There is something close to dread in his eyes. It catches me off guard.
I sit up slowly and show him my palm. The cut is shallow, a thin slash of red across my skin. He looks at it like it is the worst thing he’s ever done. I shake my head.
