Page 100
Story: His Hell Girl
I watch stupefied as the blade cuts through flesh, red drops bursting through the surface and coating the tip.
Eyes wide, I look at him questioningly.
"Tell me," he purrs, his tone smooth and alluring, "do I bleed?"
He doesn't let me answer, pushing the blade even deeper, more blood reaching the surface.
"I do bleed," he continues, low in his throat, "but only for you."
Lifting my other hand, I trace my finger over the small wound, swiping some of the blood and bringing it to my lips.
"Only for me?" I repeat, the metallic taste flooding my mouth.
"Hell girl," he groans as he watches me lick my fingers clean, "you're not playing fair."
"Fair?" I ask, amused. "How is this fair, then?" My lips pull in a mischievous smile as I move the blade into the other hand. He releases me, frowning as he watches me wield the weapon in the air.
Giving him a knowing smile, I set the blade to my own chest, pushing the tip ever so slightly. I feel a small pinch before the skin gives way, red liquid slowly gushing out.
His gaze is focused on my skin, and for a second I'm worried I might have poked the beast. He looks feral as he backs me into the wall, one hand grabbing both arms and raising them above my head.
"Not fair," he growls before lowering his mouth to my skin. I feel the suction as his lips wrap themselves around the small laceration, and he laps at the blood, taking it all in.
The slight sting of the cut coupled with his warm mouth make it increasingly harder for me to breathe, the hairs on my body standing to attention as I want to beg him to have his way with me.
But just as soon as he's on me, he's gone.
Head hung low, he takes a step back, not looking at me. There's blood residue around his lips, and as he starts pacing around restlessly I know I might have pushed him too far.
"I need to…" he drifts off, frowning as if he doesn't know what he needs to do, either.
"Go," I urge him. "I'll find you later."
He whips his head at me, regarding me for a moment before briskly nodding. His face is pale, his features taut and full of tension.
Without lingering, he leaves, heading straight for the blood room.
As I hear the door close behind him, I feel a little guilty about baiting him when I know blood is his main trigger. Still, therehad been a moment where I'd wanted nothing more than to offer him mine in exchange for his.
Maybe it's crazy, but his trigger might just be my biggest turn on.
Shaking my head at that absurd train of thought, I continue practicing.
I push myself harder, and two hours later I'm still throwing knives at the targets. My breathing harsh, I stop for a moment, sitting on the floor and grabbing a bottle of water.
A little tired, I end up staring at the wall for a full minute, unable to get myself together.
Out of nowhere, though, a blasting sound erupts through the air, and my hands automatically go to my ears to shield them.
What?
Disoriented, I look around me until I locate the tablet in the wall on the other side of the room, the screen a bright red. Standing up, I hurry to it, plugging in the password to get access to the main frame of the house.
The screen flares to life, and a warning message greets me, the entire area red. I click a few things, and multiple windows appear, each showing a different part of the house.
The live feed.
But as I look through each of them, I realize what triggered the alarm.
Eyes wide, I look at him questioningly.
"Tell me," he purrs, his tone smooth and alluring, "do I bleed?"
He doesn't let me answer, pushing the blade even deeper, more blood reaching the surface.
"I do bleed," he continues, low in his throat, "but only for you."
Lifting my other hand, I trace my finger over the small wound, swiping some of the blood and bringing it to my lips.
"Only for me?" I repeat, the metallic taste flooding my mouth.
"Hell girl," he groans as he watches me lick my fingers clean, "you're not playing fair."
"Fair?" I ask, amused. "How is this fair, then?" My lips pull in a mischievous smile as I move the blade into the other hand. He releases me, frowning as he watches me wield the weapon in the air.
Giving him a knowing smile, I set the blade to my own chest, pushing the tip ever so slightly. I feel a small pinch before the skin gives way, red liquid slowly gushing out.
His gaze is focused on my skin, and for a second I'm worried I might have poked the beast. He looks feral as he backs me into the wall, one hand grabbing both arms and raising them above my head.
"Not fair," he growls before lowering his mouth to my skin. I feel the suction as his lips wrap themselves around the small laceration, and he laps at the blood, taking it all in.
The slight sting of the cut coupled with his warm mouth make it increasingly harder for me to breathe, the hairs on my body standing to attention as I want to beg him to have his way with me.
But just as soon as he's on me, he's gone.
Head hung low, he takes a step back, not looking at me. There's blood residue around his lips, and as he starts pacing around restlessly I know I might have pushed him too far.
"I need to…" he drifts off, frowning as if he doesn't know what he needs to do, either.
"Go," I urge him. "I'll find you later."
He whips his head at me, regarding me for a moment before briskly nodding. His face is pale, his features taut and full of tension.
Without lingering, he leaves, heading straight for the blood room.
As I hear the door close behind him, I feel a little guilty about baiting him when I know blood is his main trigger. Still, therehad been a moment where I'd wanted nothing more than to offer him mine in exchange for his.
Maybe it's crazy, but his trigger might just be my biggest turn on.
Shaking my head at that absurd train of thought, I continue practicing.
I push myself harder, and two hours later I'm still throwing knives at the targets. My breathing harsh, I stop for a moment, sitting on the floor and grabbing a bottle of water.
A little tired, I end up staring at the wall for a full minute, unable to get myself together.
Out of nowhere, though, a blasting sound erupts through the air, and my hands automatically go to my ears to shield them.
What?
Disoriented, I look around me until I locate the tablet in the wall on the other side of the room, the screen a bright red. Standing up, I hurry to it, plugging in the password to get access to the main frame of the house.
The screen flares to life, and a warning message greets me, the entire area red. I click a few things, and multiple windows appear, each showing a different part of the house.
The live feed.
But as I look through each of them, I realize what triggered the alarm.
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