She thinks she has to fight me. Because that's what she's always done. But I know when a woman wants me, and no one has ever looked at me the way Saige did that night when I wrapped my hand around her throat.
I can't get it out of my head.
I duck into Dax's room and change into his costume, completing the look with a butcher knife I pulled from the block in the kitchen. If I'm careful, she won't be able to tell the difference.
I've made sure Dax's phone doesn't lock, and I pick it up now, opening the text messages and typing in Saige's name. I scroll through their other messages, but only for a minute. They aren't what I expected; I expected nudes and a lot of dirty talk. Sure, there are a few of those, but mostly, they're sweet, and they make me really fucking uncomfortable.
That's not what I wanted to see.
I'm drunk enough that I have to close one eye to send her a message.
Come upstairs.
It takes a few minutes for her to respond.
SAIGE why?
You know why.
I wait, but I don't get a reply. I almost give up and abandon my plan before Dax's bedroom door creaks open.
"Dax…?" Saige calls out. "Are you in here?"
I step out from behind the closet door, knife in hand, lowering my voice so that it's somewhat of a growl, hoping it's indistinguishable over the music and noise coming from downstairs. "Run."
Saige smiles before she takes off, running around the side of the bed and then through the bathroom to Nolan's room. I jump onto the bed, just barely getting ahold of the bottom of her skirt, and she screams, laughing, before she wriggles free.
I bite back a laugh, too, chasing her toward the doorway. We make it out at the same time, and I block the staircase, stepping down to the first step, trying to make myself appear just a little smaller, hoping that between the alcohol and dim lighting, the size difference is something she can write off.
I raise the knife a little, my hands hidden inside the robe, and she laughs, taking a few steps backward.
I lunge forward before Saige turns heel and runs toward Dax's bedroom door. Unfortunately for her, I'm faster, slamming it shut, and she squeals before ducking into my bedroom.
I didn't think I'd get this lucky. But it's exactly where I want her.
I lock the door behind me. All the lights are off in the room and the blinds drawn. I can barely make out her figure in the darkness, which is reassuring, because that means she can barely make me out, too.
"We should get out of here," she says. "Elias will kill me."
Slowly, I shake my head and point at the bed with the knife.
"Seriously, Dax…"
I take a few steps toward her, holding the knife to her throat, and she gasps before backing up and falling onto her back on the bed.
She tries to sit up, but I climb onto the bed, kneeling between her legs, my dick fucking throbbing, and run the blade down her cheek, and then hold it to her throat while unbuttoning her top. As it falls open, my eyes drop from the angel wings tattooed beneath her collarbone to her barely covered tits, watching her chest heave in a see-through black lace bra.
Angels don't wear shit like this. They don't get on their knees with their tits out in front of their big brother and suck his friends dry. Saige isn't an angel, and I'm certainly not going to fuck her like one.
"You're kind of freaking me out…" she says.
Oh, Saige…I'm going to tear you apart, but it's not going to be with the knife.
I slide the blade down her center, using it to flip her skirt up, and then slip it under the side of her thong, easily cutting through the thin string of lace. I push it aside, spreading her legs wider so I can get a better look at her pretty little pussy.
Fuck…
I want to taste it so fucking badly, but I can't. She'll know I'm not him, and then I won't get to fuck her. And Ihave tofuck her—before she gets suspicious. She'll be glad I did; it'll be like ripping off a bandage. Once I get it over with, she won't feel bad about it anymore. She'll just want more of my cock.
