Reign of Wrath (Dirty Broken Savages #3)(49)

I shiver a little, just from the way he looks at me and how it feels to be naked under him while he’s dressed and wielding a razor blade.

With nothing else between us, he cuts my skin next. He follows the lines that are already on my thighs, adding to the neat lines there with small cuts.

Each time he drags that blade against my skin, it makes me feel something new. None of the slices are deep, but they give me just what I need, focusing all my attention on the here and now.

After a bit, he shifts off the bed so he can kneel between my legs and have a better angle. Blood wells up in the deeper cuts, and Knox dips his shaggy head down to lap up some of the blood that drips down the side of my thigh.

I shiver at the sensation of that. The heat of his tongue against my skin just adds to the burning warmth starting to grow inside me. I can tell I’m getting turned on by this, my body humming from the feeling.

Knox drags the razor down from the top of my thigh to the more sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He doesn’t cut there, just drags the blade along the skin, and I make a soft noise, unable to hold it back.

Knox keeps teasing me, dragging that blade over the places that make me shudder and moan for him, and it just builds the heat inside me more and more. I get closer to coming, just from this, and it’s harder to hold still while he makes those delicate cuts.

“Knox,” I gasp out, his name sounding like a plea in and of itself. “Please. Fuck. Please.”

I don’t have to elaborate, since there’s really only one thing I could be begging for when I’m this keyed up and desperate for him. My body hums and throbs with need, and my pussy is wet from having him so close to it.

“Shit,” Knox swears. He drags his tongue over another of the cuts, lapping up the blood there and then makes his way to my pussy, giving in to what I want. What I need at this point.

My eyes practically roll back into my head when he finally puts his mouth on me, his tongue darting out to lick at my clit.

“Yes,” I moan, hips arching up more like I want to get him deeper. “Right there, Knox. Please.”

He hums in acknowledgement and starts sucking on my clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure cascading through me. Knox is as good with his mouth as he is with his hands, and it doesn’t take long before I’m right there on the edge. My body convulses, and I writhe on the bed as my orgasm takes me, making me cry out sharply with how good it feels.

Blindly, I reach for Knox’s hand, grabbing it for something to hold on to. But he still has the razor in that hand, and it bites into my palm as I grab it. The sharp pain spikes my pleasure even higher, and I gush as I come, an orgasm like I’ve never felt before rushing through me as I shake from the strength of it.

It takes me a few long minutes to remember how to breathe and to get my heart rate down to something that’s less than a frantic gallop. I pant hard, and the tension finally drains from my body, that sick feeling of having seen Julian fading.

“You okay?” Knox asks, lifting his head from between my legs.

I nod weakly, still too overcome to speak just yet.

He slides his hands up my thigh and then takes my hand, inspecting the cut on my palm. It’s deep, deeper than the others he gave me, and there’s blood already welling up and trickling down my wrist. Knox frowns at it, poking at the edges.

“Shit. This is too deep,” he tells me, glancing up at my face.

He was careful with the other cuts, making sure not to slice into me too deep, but this one was more accidental and I did it to myself, really.

There’s a look on his face that I haven’t really seen before, like he’s worried he might have actually hurt me. It makes sense, considering he’s usually so controlled when he’s hurting me, and he knows what he’s doing.

I pull him down into a kiss though, smearing blood in his hair as I hold the back of his head.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m used to pain,” I tell him when we part. “I had plenty of that before I met you guys, and no one can take that away.”

Still holding his gaze, I release his hair and trail my fingers down his cheeks, smearing small streaks of blood in their wake. He leans into my hand, his eyelids drooping a little, and my heart squeezes at the unconscious affection of the gesture.

“You never have to worry about cutting me too deep or hurting me too much,” I murmur. “Maybe it’s fucked up, but I like the pain you give me. Because you give me something else too. Something that balances out the pain. Something that makes me feel whole.”

Pleasure and pain.

Light and dark.

He helps me find both sides of myself.





18





Priest





I stand in the upstairs hallway, one palm pressed to the wall beside me.

A few moments ago, I happened to be walking down the hall when I heard the cry from River’s room. I’ve been with her enough times that I know it was the sound of her crying out in pleasure, crying out as she came apart. It made my heart beat faster, heat rushing through my veins.

I remember seeing her come up from the basement all those weeks ago, freshly fucked with a trail of blood running down her back and her shirt wadded up over her chest. I remember how affected I was even then, going to the shower and trying to jerk off before my cock went soft again.

My cock is half hard now, just from hearing her. Knox is with her, judging by the low sounds that I recognize as his voice, and part of me wants to go into her room and join them, to satisfy the ache in my balls and the craving in my soul.