“You're a killer, Cal. Why are you fucking me like you're afraid to break me?”
He could do it easily, and I'd probably just let him. I may even thank him when he's done, because he may just break me better than everyone before him.
“This is a dangerous game, little doll,” he purrs.
I know that. As much as my body tells me I'm safe with him based on our relationship to this point, I know there's something sinister in him. But there's something sinister inside of me too. Something that may come out with a little bit of coaxing.
“Danger makes me feel alive.” I tell him. “If you don't feel alive, what's the point?”
I've had opportunities to end it all... myself, him. I've lain awake for hours thinking about it. But the truth I don't tell him is that I was as good as dead before he brought me here.
He fished me out of hell, and while he thinks he has me in a hell of another kind, he hasn't even come close.
That's all it takes, apparently. Because I tip him over the edge with that, and then there's no stopping, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to.
His fist tangles in my hair, and I leave my hands right where he left them, curling my fingers in the air like I can grab hold of my soul before he runs off with that, too.
I don't take my eyes off of him as he lines himself up and sinks deep inside me, like he's trying to see whose determination can crack first. It's definitely mine, because having him inside of me this deep makes me worry I'll be empty again once he's gone.
“Fuck me.” I gasp, begging him to do something other than just soak in my warmth.
He breathes slowly, and when his eyes sharpen, I get the first sign of whatever beast he's been so afraid of. I think I should be afraid of him, too, but I'm not.
“Do you have a death wish, little doll?”
I think I must, because my pussy clenches at the hardness of his words and the venom in his tone.
I take my eyes off of him for the first time since asking for this, turning to appraise the mess we made of our dinner date.
Whether he knew it or not, Cal wanted seduction.
I want devastation.
The steak knife lies atop a jagged piece of plate just near my head. If I reach for it, I can grab it.
Cal's hand closes around mine just as soon as my fingers wrap around the hilt.
“You gonna hurt me, little doll?” He sneers.
I don't fight his grip as he forces it to my throat, and I fucking wilt. Can he feel it—my resolve shattering?
“I'm not fucking scared of you.” I sneer right back, harnessing a venom of my own that I didn't even realize I possessed.
“You think that steak knife is any match for me?” He laughs, eyes hard as he seems to remember he's still buried inside of me. He pulls back before slamming into me again. His hips rock against me, deepening our connection as he twists the knife, letting the light from above our heads glint against the surface. He's right that it's small. It would hurt to cut yourself with, sure, but it's not enough to be a murder weapon.
“No.” I pant, and maybe it sounds anguished because he smirks, like he thinks he's teaching me some kind of lesson. “I think you could destroy me if you wanted to.”
The blade bites at my throat just enough that I feel the serrated edges against my skin. Cal was right. This is a dangerous game. I'm calling him on his bluff without even being entirely sure myself.
“Is that what you want?” He grunts, slamming into me again like he'll destroy my pussy instead.
“No.” I lie. “I want you to fuck me harder. If this is what your hate feels like, baby, you're not a monster. You're nothing but a coat hanging in the closet, shadows in the night…”
I think, for a second, that he's going to drag the blade across my throat to try and shut me up. Instead, he flings it across the room.
I don't pay attention to where it goes because he grips my throat in the next second, and this time, I see it. The thing he swears is there, the reason he thinks he's so fucked up. The beast that lurks beneath the surface has finally come to play.
“I can be your fucking nightmare.” He growls, squeezing hard enough that I feel the air being pinched off around me.
