Neither this moment nor Skylar will ever slip from me.
To the sound of her repeatednos, I bend to her pussy, sucking her clit into my mouth.
Then I do it, looking at her thigh as I nick the skin, just enough to draw blood.
She gapes at the knife, at the broken skin and blood. The color drains from her cheeks, her body going slack with shock.
For me, it’s a precious moment.
For Skylar, it’s agony mixed with lust and terror. She can’t fathom it, can’t handle what I’m doing. Can’t cope with the blood trickling down her thigh.
I don’t think she’s breathing.
When I’m finished, I discard the knife and take her hand, guiding her fingers to the small cut and smearing her own blood across them.
At that, Skylar finally cracks, falling apart on my table.
Her scream rips through the basement, bouncing off the walls, filling every vent and every corner.
It’s mine. All of it.
Her voice, her pain, her fear.
Mine.
14
SKYLAR
He cut me. He fucking cut me.
The act was unhinged. Visceral. Possessive.
A sting pulses through my whole leg. Blood trickles down my thigh.
Knox did that just before he discarded the knife and pulled my fingers, my entire hand, through the cut, slicking them with blood.
My mouth can’t seem to close.
The same man who, seconds ago, gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm did this.
The man who helps me by tearing a strip from his shirt and tying it tight around my thigh, the knot rough and hurried. A makeshift bandage.
He doesn’t look at my face as he ties it, only at the blood staining his hands.
He did this.
When his gaze finally lifts, it’s drenched in dark, depraved obsession.
My mind refuses to acknowledge that this is my new life.
Except it is.
It’s so very real.
That’s why I can’t silence the screams.
Not like Knox cares.
