“Yes, you’re right.” My teeth grind as I snatch the fleshing knife from my side. “Smart girl, Trouble.”
The handle bites into my palm with how tightly I grip it.
“Thank you.” Her eyelashes flutter, her cheeks reddening.
“Don’t thank me.” I jam the knife into her palm and force her to look forward, at the hide, or I’ll forget about the whole thing and ram my cock into her. “So. You know more or less what needs to be done, but did you practice anything like that in school?”
I’m not asking just for the sake of fleshing. I’m asking because I want more of her stories. To possess them. To possess all of her.
“Yes.” She bites her lip before nodding, appearing unsure about my swift change of subject.
The simpleYesgives me what I wanted, thrusting me straight into her world.
I picture Skylar in a bright room, surrounded by her classmates. A dead animal instead of a person in front of her. Her eyes sparkling while she wields a knife steadily in her hand.
“What’d they let you use?” I stare at her profile expectantly, starving to learn more about her.
“Pig feet. Can I start?”
Her eagerness to step into my world sends a thrill through me.
I nod.
“Oh, would you look at that.” She runs her fingers over the skin, testing its texture. Testingme,it feels like with how tempting she’s being. “Knox, it’s still hot.”
“You’re the hot one,” I grumble.
She lets out a laugh. It’s sweet and way too loud.
In a flash, I have my arm around her face, sealing that sound shut. Her teeth sink into my forearm, her body back to fight mode.
“No laughing.” My lips brush her ear, warning threaded through every word. “They won’t hear you happy down here, understood?”
She growls at me when I rock my hips into her. The sound of her body smacking the table turns me right the fuck on.
“Be good.” Last time I gave her that order was yesterday, the first time I met her. Could’ve fooled me. We’re so right, we might as well have known each other our entire lives. “Be good for me, Trouble.”
As fear melts away, her body relaxes into me.
“Kay.” The slide of her teeth along my skin as she talks is erotic.
I won’t give in and fuck her. Won’t.
What I do is release her.
She takes a deep breath. Her lungs must burn from the long seconds my forearm pressed over her mouth and nose.
“What part of him is that?” Returning to the work at hand, she jabs her finger into several areas of what used to be Easton. “It’s smooth but also kind of taut?”
“The back,” I grit out without touching him. After a decade of handling hides, I can easily identify which part is which bylooking at them. No joints getting in the way. It’s flatter. “Makes no difference for fleshing, though.”
She holds up the knife, and a light tremor courses through her hand. Watching Skylar handling my work tool is nearly as hot as the memory of her coming all over my cock.
“Okay,” she whispers. “What’s the first thing we do?”
We.
“Right. So, you keep the pressure low and the angle steady.” My pulse, though, isn’t steady in the slightest.
