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“Let's test that,” he says. He flips the knife so he is holding it by the tip. I am confused until the cold, smooth end of the leather handle hits my clit and presses. “I want to fuck you with this. So the next time I use it, I can remember it being surrounded by your warmth.”

I moan and clutch the pillow. He runs it down and teases my pussy.

“You look beautiful, stretched out for me, my blade wet with your come,” he rasps.

My breath stutters as the handle enters me. He uses his thumb to rub my clit while he glides in and out.

“You like my knives?”

“Yes,” I cry.

“Your pussy certainly does. I love seeing it swallow my blade,” he says wickedly and licks his lips.

The fire builds within my body. I thought I was prepared for Ryker. I thought I was experienced enough to be with him. I knew nothing. This is another level of desire. I am on the verge of coming already. He moves his hand faster. He builds me up.

Higher.

Higher.

I was innocent of the ways he could play with my body. Nothing has ever felt like this before. Just seeing him kneeling between my thighs almost made me explode. The play of his muscles as he thrusts the knife inside me is delicious to look at. His hot gaze is centered on the knife's handle as it pleasures me. The hard outline of his cock, peeking out the top of his pants, is teasing me with what is to come. I may die if he gives me more.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands. His hand moved even faster. Everything shatters when he tilts the handle, hitting me at just the right spot.

I cry out. My hips lift off the bed, chasing the orgasm, prolonging the euphoria I feel. It goes on and on, leaving me satisfied and weightless as I drop to the bed.

Through heavy eyes, I watch Ryker pull the knife out of me. He inspects it, seeing the wetness drip down. He locks his smoldering eyes with mine, tilts his head, sticks out his tongue, and licks the handle. He closes his eyes and licks every drop.

Tasting me. Savoring me.

It’s dirty. And exciting. My pussy contracts with want for this man. I want more. I want every part of him I can get inside of me.

“You taste fantastic. Tell me how much you love my knives,” he encourages.

“I love them. You know what I would love more?” I ask.

“Tell me.”

“Your cock, deep inside me,” I say as I sit up and wiggle out of the ruined shirt. “Right now, please.”

“You have been such a good girl,” he purrs and pulls down his pants. “You can have anything you want,” he promises.

He's gorgeous. He is the picture of everything rugged and wild. I want to take a bite out of him. I sit up, my legs still on either side of him, and stroke his cock in one long motion. I let my hand travel up his chest to lay on his cheek. I use my other hand to brush back his hair and flutter my fingers over his jaw.

“Take me,” I demand.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hand fists my hair, yanking it back roughly, exposing my neck to him. He pulls my body onto his, his cock sliding inside me at the same time he bites me in one smooth motion.

I moan. He is everywhere.

My blood is pulled from my body as he thrusts deep inside me. My hips move to match his as my hands cradle his head. I run my fingers through his soft hair before clutching his head, urging him to keep drinking.

I gasp and shiver as my clit rubs against him. I can feel every solid inch of him claiming me. He releases my neck, only to latch onto my breast, pulling fiercely. The sensation of his rough beard against my breast adds to everything, overwhelming my senses.

“You are mine,” he says. He pulls up, so his red lips are tasting distance from mine. “Your body and your blood belong to me.”

I whimper and take his mouth. Our tongues clash, sharing my blood, and sipping the essence of each other. Our hips are meeting harshly, demandingly, together.

His hands bruisingly grasp my hips, urging me faster.