He wouldn’t if I didn’t want him to.
That’swhat excites me about Razor. He’s twisted my fear and trauma of being voiceless into this submissive role that I’m dominant in. It’s a dangerous thrill he’s sparked to life. A theme park where we get to have our own deranged fun.
“Am I in trouble?” I whisper, my thigh lightly folding over the other.
I start with a gentle squeeze, pacifying the pressure turning volatile in my pelvis. But as he nods, the blade’s glinting off the lamp and he’s teasing his fingers underneath my top.
A whine collects on the back of my tongue, my body shuddering and my thighs clamping. “Are you gonna hurt me?”
He nods again, hooking two fingers into my top and pulling me toward him.
Lust crackles beneath my skin, tingling the mist that’s turning me to dew. Saying nothing else, just breathing, I rake a hand up the sweaty hair on the back of his head, using my other to draw a finger over his prodded chain.
He observes me, a hungry depth hooding his eyes.
I notice his hand fall away from my waist, but the feathery touch he’s using to inch my top up is distracting.
Too distracting.
The panic of falling into bad habits trickles into the rush. I close my eyes, tipping my head back and shaking it, trying to convince myself to say no. But he’s pressing his lips to my ribcage, kissing with a tease of his tongue and biting at my bones.
“Razor, I-” I huff, grabbing a handful of his hair and looking back down to him.
I don’t remember what I was going to say. Him running the blade down the center of my shirt, cutting through the ribbed fabric, as he dives his mouth down to the side of my neck is debilitating in the most evil way.
Aggressively delivering his tongue to the sensitive skin, he tediously sucks on the hickey he left on me, using his knuckles to pry away the separated fabric on my sternum.
My head falls heavy, my mind light and rotating. I pant, clawing into him harder and resting a foot up on the mattress by his thigh, becoming desperate for his touch where I need it the most.
His smile stretches against my neck, his exposed teeth nipping at my carotid and his sadistic intent moving the blade over my breast.
Why is he so quiet right now?
He has a filthy mouth he loves to use. But right now, he’s kissing along the curve of my neck with a smile and inducing goosebumps to follow the path of the blade.
“Are you mad at me?” I pant out, smoothing my palm down the firm grooves of his arm.
He kisses my collarbone, teasing my nipple with the sharp edge. “Mad, yes. Not at you, though.” Shifting to meet my eyes, his lips rosy and plump from friction, he runs the blade back up the tissue of my breast, implementing a force that stings. “I love how innocent you are to me.”
Air sucks between my teeth, breaking his eye contact to watch the blade lift from the crimson line it left.
He flattens his tongue over his bottom teeth, taunting me, taking his time to move his mouth to his new mark.
I can’t resist. My hand is falling from his arm, moving around my thigh and down my butt, my middle finger sliding up the drum pounding through my core to find my swollen, ready clit.
Still taking his time, his bottom lip meeting my breast, his dark eyes snap over to the position of my arm. I watch his gears turn, how fast he is at putting two and two together, and the speed of his carnality heightens the pleasure I’m getting from rubbing my pussy through the soft cotton—from the back.
I whimper, tugging his hair harder, my face flaming from how much my body is going to survive off this.
“You fucking slut,” he exhales, his hot breath splashing against my sweat before he’s lapping his tongue up the little bubbles of my blood.
My wrist functions harder, matching pleasure to the pain burning from his saliva. “I need this,” I rasp.
Whimpers and heavy breaths rack my chest, giving too much away, letting him know that my climax is building.
Which… has never been an issue.
But I watch sadism narrow his eyes, his cutting smile forming around the wet trail he’s dragging to my nipple.
