Page 17 of Of Monsters and Mazes

My breathing hitched as he hooked a finger beneath the band and lifted the material away from my ribs. I dug my teeth harder into my trembling lip, trying to swallow down my own whimper, as he tore the delicate material effortlessly with his strong grip. The cups fell away, exposing me fully, and he stopped to admire my pert nipples.

A slow grin lifted the corners of his lips as he brushed the backs of his black painted fingernails over each stiff peak. I jolted slightly, though he was toying with me gently, and I latched onto this small comfort.

My nipples were firm in his hand as he rolled them between his fingers, and every small rotation sent unwanted pleasure down through my core. I was breathing again, and I could hear the ragged arousal in every one of my barely controlled exhales. My thighs twitched and my clit spasmed the more he played with my breasts. He chuckled when he felt the shake of my knees tap against each side of his waist.

“How am I supposed to hold back when you react like that?” He spread his hand down my abdomen, then he tapped lightly on my naval. “And I promise I’m trying to hold back.”

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he reached behind his back and came up with another nail. He continued to play with my nipples with one hand, while he used the other to balance the nail on my stomach. He rolled his finger around the flat end, while pivoting the point just above my belly button. The sharp tip broke skin, and red bloomed around the metal.

I whimpered, at a complete loss for words, as he added pressure with his finger tip.

“Do you like pain?” He nudged the tip in deeper still, and the gasp that followed was involuntary. So were the tears burning my eyes. “Have you ever been fucked until you bled out?” His low chuckle was enough to make me sniffle back my whimpering. “The pain and pleasure as muscle tears from bone, and your body is forced to orgasm in spite of it all. What a fucking feeling.”

When I couldn’t make myself respond, he continued. “I can show you.” He licked his lips, eyes fixed on mine. “The most terrifying orgasm you’ll ever know, and the last one you’ll ever crave. My hands on your neck, my nails in your flesh, and my cock deep in your pussy, while every movement sends you reeling in a different direction, until you’re soaking me with everything that you are. You’ve never felt anything like it, have you?”

I’d always seen myself as tough, no nonsense, and able to defend myself. But that was just a dream. Something I told myself after the fifth self-defense class, pretending I could pull off those maneuvers in the real world. Or any world. Certainly not this less real one.

Fucked. I was so fucked.

“Did you imagine it?” He leaned down until I could feel his breath on my lips. “Did you die in your dream, Butterfly?” He lifted his chin, brushing the tip of my nose with the softest kiss. “Did I kill you?” He moved downwards, slowly fluttering those short breaths down my chin, my neck, then over my collar bone. “Tell me, was I your perfect nightmare?”

He leaned in closer still, until he was grazing my collar bone with a tender peck. He followed that tap with a slow stroke of his tongue, climbing back up the side of my neck. A warmth tingled through me at each gentle movement. “You’re so fucking wet right now, aren’t you, Butterfly.” A statement, not a question. One he confirmed when he dipped his fingers beneath my skirt and nudged my panties to the side. Somehow, his touches had all been careful and delicate enough to distract me from the pain.

Wait.

Pain.

Pain?

Why couldn’t I feel the pain anymore? I’d not felt anything but his caress from the moment he’d started exploring my body.

He ran his other hand up my pinned wrists, sliding through my blood and painting my whole arm red. Yet, pain wasn’t what I was feeling at all anymore.

My arms were tingling at every point of violence, and my ankles were oddly warm. I must have hit a point of shock where my body had completely shut everything out.

Everything but—

The devil moved down between my legs, and he lifted my skirt. He left my panties in place this time as he lowered his mouth to the delicate lace. “You’re just like me, aren’t you?” His chuckle was a soft vibration. “The pain gets you off, doesn’t it?” He pulled down the material, needing an extra tug to free the cloth from my own damp arousal. His tongue slipped between my exposed lips, and he pushed against my clit with the tip. My body jerked in surprise as he started drawing circles in a consistent pattern, flicking me with his tongue at the top of every rotation.

I forced my attention back to the nails in my skin and the blood that was now staining my clothes, trying to conjure the brutality again. But I couldn’t. The way my body honed in on the only feeling that wasn’t killing me was a survival instinct that would either save me or be my death. Even as I stared at my brutalized body, still I could only register that skillful tongue and the crescendo he was building in my core.

“I can be more of a devil than Jericho could ever be, you know.” He licked me from my center, back up to my clit, eliciting another full body shudder. “I can fuck harder. Give better head. Play to all your fucked up little fantasies.” He stopped talking long enough to suck on me roughly, and I hitched a breath at the sheer explosive sensation of it. He sucked and nipped and licked me, while he spread his fingers over my bloodied palms, as if he wanted the extra intimacy of holding hands. The way he squeezed my hand filled me with an unearned sense of security and comfort. My eyes watered as he took me higher, and no amount of disassociation could deny how incredible it felt. “You don’t have to be the king’s tribute. Say you’ll be mine, and I can help you, innocent little Butterfly.”

My body was reacting to him whether I wanted to or not, and the more he pushed me, the more some fucked up thoughts in my head told me I wanted him to. My once echoing screams had softened to involuntary moans, pathetic whimpers, and heavy breaths, and I found myself clawing at his fingers, like I needed to hold onto something before I fell off a satisfying cliff.

He must have sensed my nearness, because he smiled that wide, scarred smile when I pushed my hips into his face. He answered aptly, when he grazed my clit with his teeth before taking me with a constant and sudden suction.

The blood loss must have drained me of my sanity. How much blood did I even have left? How much longer before I blacked out and died? Maybe he really would kill me through orgasm. That wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

Crazy talk.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die?

I don’t want to die.

“I don’t want to die!” I cried out the words as he sent me over the edge. My toes curled, and I shook through the explosive spasms, nails and all, knowing I was only making the wounds worse. Even if I couldn’t feel them anymore, I could see them.