Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,54
does not mix, yet belong together.
He continues to circle the knife along my clit, and the sense of danger looms. He could slip, he could cut me, kill me even. I trust him. I trusted him the moment I saw him, and if cutting me is what he wants to do, I’ll let him.
My thighs begin to tremble, my belly burns, and I tilt my head back, gasping for air. I try to hold out for as long as I can. I don’t want this to end. He parts my ripped shirt and exposes one of my tits, cupping the small curve in the palm of his hand. Tongue bends down and sucks the red bead into his mouth and bites down hard.
It hurts.
Tears prickle my eyes, but it’s glorious. I shove my hands over my mouth to silence my screams as I come long and hard. A sliver of pain stings my thigh, and my orgasm is prolonged. I climb to another height, soaring over a peak I had no idea existed. Another sting happens on my other thigh and when I glance down, I see blood.
Fresh, dripping, red blood.
The cuts aren’t big. They are thin, but it’s enough liquid for Tongue to use to massage into my skin, staining me with my own life liquid.
He inches his way down my body, and I think he’s about to eat me out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he licks the blood clean off my legs, lapping his tongue over the wound he gave me.
“Would you leave with me?” he asks, and I watch as he licks the knife clean, a line of red laying over his taste buds.
“I’d go anywhere with you,” I say, drunk off pleasure, high off Tongue.
Bleed me dry and dump my body if he has to; as long as I experience this feeling, life can’t get better.
He puts the knife in my hand and guides himself to my entrance. My thighs sting as our flesh rubs together, but I love it. I never want this to stop. Is it possible to want to be so close to someone that you want to bathe in their blood? To live underneath their skin. Because that’s what I want to do with Tongue.
Close will never be close enough.
“I’ve never…” I start to say.
“I trust you,” he tells me, leaning over to take my lips in a wicked kiss, promising a life of new manic experiences.
All he said was three words, but with the fractures in his eyes from his soul being broken, I know those words aren’t easy for him to say.
I press the tip of the knife against his shoulder right as the tip of his cock enters me. I gasp from the intrusion, and my hand slips causing the blade to tear into his skin. His neck tendons protrude as he feels something other than pain for the first time in his life.
I’ll soothe his soul. I’ll give him everything he needs.
I’ve found sanctuary in the kind of crazy, my crazy was looking for.
He grips my throat, and I slice another line into his skin. With a curl of his lip, he roughly shoves inside me, breaking through my virginity without the gentle thrust normal guys give. He yanks out, then fucks himself back in. With every rock of his hips, the knife cuts into his shoulder, and eventually his blood drips onto my chest.
Tossing the knife aside, I lean up on my elbows and latch my mouth onto his wound, cleaning him up like he did for me. I moan, wishing we were something other than human so we could be bound together for eternity.
I pretend our blood joins, are DNA mixes, and I’m his.
He throws my head against the bed by keeping his hand around my throat and kisses me. He fucks me harder, and his balls slap against me with every thrust. His hand grips my leg, keeping it around his waist, and he sweeps me into another kiss, tangling our tongues together.
“So fucking tight,” he rumbles into my mouth. He glances down, watching his big cock saw in and out of me, owning me, possessing me.
That’s what he and I need. We both need something that is beyond love. We need someone to possess our souls in the most forbidden, unacceptable, taboo way.
“You’re fucking mine, Daphne. You’re mine. No matter where you go, no matter where you run, I’ll fucking find you. You can’t leave me.”