Page 91 of Degradation

He tilts his head, dragging his nose across the delicate skin of her cheek. “I chose him especially.” He murmurs. “I know how much this particular guard petrifies you…”

She whimpers and it takes all I have to fight to urge to smirk.

He pushes her back, shoving her hard enough that she trips and lands on her arse on the floor. She doesn’t try to get up. She just stays there, like she’s waiting for something to happen.

Gunther continues packing, grabbing things, shoving them into a suitcase, even though the servants have already seen to everything necessary.

When he’s done, he pulls me aside and tells me not to cut out anymore pieces of her, as if he imagines I’ll what, take her nose? Take her ears?

“You wanna mutilate some bitches, get your brother to bring some slaves over from Oblivion, you can cut them up, cut their cunts out, do whatever the fuck you want to them, but I don’t want you to make my wife ugly. The only thing going for her beyond her cunt is her face. Ruin that and I’ll have to get rid, and the hassle of that…” He screws his face up, like he’s not imagining already marrying a dozen other virgins, like he’s not salivating at the prospect. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Chapter Lord.” I reply.

I don’t need to cut her more. I don’t need to do anything. My malkta is perfect as she is now.

He grunts, bellows for someone to carry all the extra bags and leaves without another glance at her.

She hasn’t movedfrom that spot. She’s just stayed there, like her legs don’t work.

I turn to walk away and leave her to it but as I do I hear the sound of something swooshing.

She slams into me, her entire body smashing into mine. Her fist finds my face and she gets a good enough hit to make my eyes actually water.

I fling her off the way one does a fly, sneering. “That the best you’ve got?”

She really is feisty today. Is it the thought of being all alone with me that’s got her blood up?

“You absolute piece of shit.” She snarls before grabbing my arm, turning me back to fully face her.

God, the way she loses it, the way that final grip on reality slips, it’s delicious. It’s more than that. It’s addictive, it’s incredible.

She throws herself at me again, not caring that I’m three times her size, not caring that she doesn’t stand a chance in this fight.

My hand wraps around her throat. It’s instinctive. It’s exhilarating too, to feel the way her heartrate spikes, the way she goes from that fierce bravery to abject fear.

Her hands slap, her fists pound and somehow in the carnage, her fingers wrap around something cold, something hard, something I know will only heighten this little tete-a-tete.

She yanks the dagger free with her face morphing into something akin to triumph. Clearly, she thinks she’s beaten me. I guess it’s too much for her little brain to comprehend that I would let her take it, that I would willingly walk this path and see how far she’s willing to actually go.

She shoves it against my throat, pushing enough that I can feel my skin bulging against the sharpness of the blade.

God, the feeling, the euphoria. Does she realise what she’s doing? Does she understand that to a man like me, acts like this are greater than foreplay?

“Go on.” I murmur. “Slit my throat. Drag the blade and do it.”

She draws in a ragged breath, her hand flickering just enough to catch, just enough to draw a little blood, and I swear that action goes straight to my cock.

“You know you want to.” I say. Like I care if I live or die.

But the tone of my voice, the way I’m speaking, I can see the effect it’s having on her, the way even now, it seems I have control over her.

I reach up, wrap my hand so tightly around hers, and I can see the ways her expression changes, the way she thinks she might be done for. Only, instead of pulling the blade away frommy throat, I move it, I shift it so it’s no longer against my jugular, now it’s against my cheek.

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t even breathe. She stills, going as rigid as a statue.

And slowly, deliberately, I force her hand to move, force her hand to do it.

My skin slices open to easily. My blood bubbles up.