Page 5 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

I’m fucked.

In the literal sense and in the figurative sense. And it’s not something I was expecting.

The knife.

It’s the knife that’s poised right at my opening and I basically asked him for it.

I should be terrified that he has a weapon so close to the most sensitive part of me.

That fear tangles with adrenaline and creates a need that I can’t comprehend.

I have never had a knife this close to me so many times and definitely not this close to my vagina.

But, I asked for this.

The handle of his knife slides into me with an ease I could only thank him for.

He’s the one who made me wet enough to coat the rough material that feels like it was ribbed for my pleasure as each one of the moulded ridges enters me slowly.

His breath is warm on my neck as the thumb guard reaches my hole.

I’m breathy and spun up but I manage, “Blue, what are you doing to me?”

“Exactly what I want,” he says into my ear, sending more hot lust down to my pussy. The handle is not exactly large, but it’s bigger than I could have thought. “Show me how good you take it. Don’t want any of that fake moanin’ shit. ”

Fake moaning?

I feel my legs close to shaking with the quickening of how he’s thrusting the knife into me. I have to remember this is work. He is a mark. I’m here for a reason and it was not to make a mess of his knife to the point of losing my mind.

But I am.

Losing my mind, that is.

Each ridge of the handle catching that spot inside me perfectly as my channel squeezes. He moves it in and out again. My head falls back. He has a hand in my hair so he can keep an eye on my expressions while I take his knife.

How is this so fucking sexy? If anyone had asked me if coming on someone’s knife was a kink I was into, I would have disagreed.

Would have disagreed vehemently and likely cursed them out.

I would have been dead wrong.

But it’s not just the knife.

It’s the man and how expertly he does… everything. I was not prepared to be introduced to something new when I teased him earlier.

This is definitely new. For me, anyway.

As a glorified sex doll, I thought I’d seen it all but very few men have imagination.

I wonder how many other women has he done this with.

Fucking hell.

Slowly, so achingly slow, he removes the handle from my pussy before I have a chance to crest that wave.

This time, I do whine. “No—”

Did I just come close to begging this man?

Unfortunately, yes.

What is happening to me?

My eyes travel up to his and they shine in the darkness.

He’s smiling again. That same sinister look, but this time—I know there is something devilish behind it.

No sane person would think to put their knife inside of someone they just met.

It’s likely not an uncommon occurrence for him.

I’m lucky that it wasn’t the pointy side first .

His tongue peeks out from his lips to take a long lick of the mess I’ve made on the handle. It’s sexual and absurdly intimate as his eyes never leave mine.

“Never waste a drop,” he says before his tongue laves over the glove he was wearing to protect his hand, too.

I’ve never been jealous of anything more. I want to be that glove with his tongue laving over me.

Blue removes the glove and tosses it to the bed. His knife is back in the holster and I catch sight of the tattoos on his fingers. Snakes writhe over the lot of them, winding up his arm to under his sleeve.

I was so close to coming but never got there. With how easily he worked me, I know it was on purpose.

He knew and he left me hanging there.

“There’s more where that came from,” I say, lifting my leg so I’m spread for him again. His eyes drop to the wetness still dripping from me. Moments from reaching the blankets beneath me.

With an enthusiastic nod, he says, “You’re gonna soak my face, bae. And you’re gonna do it right now.” Lying on his back, he beckons me over to him.

I’m stuck staring at the large man who, even on his back, fills the room with his big presence.

“I don’t like repeatin’ myself,” he remarks when I’m still there looking at the man making me feel too many things I shouldn’t be. “Crawl to me.”

Oh.

Only a fool would deny Blue Dupont.

I crawl on the bed to him, stopping by his shoulder. “Leg over,” he directs, patting the thigh closest to him just once. I raise it and he slides under me.

When I said no kissing. I’m glad it did not include these lips.

Again, I feel the exchange of control I’m giving him, even from a position over his face.

He demands and I’ve succumbed.

I don’t feel a single loss when his tongue runs the length of my center from my still sensitive clit, to my opening, back even farther to my ass .

There is a rumble deep from his chest that resonates through me as I find a rhythm over his mouth.

Fingers digging into my cheeks as he rocks me over his face, not shy about the slickness of me coating him and easing my ride.

Other noises of appreciation pour from him like a direct line to my libido.

The blue lights blur into a much brighter hue as his noises match the intensity of the climax I’m fast approaching.

My eyes squeeze shut when two of his fingers enter me and finally, finally I’m clenching on something that can get me where I want to go.

Blue is taking me somewhere I had not planned on going at all.

Lie on my back and say all the right things to lure him in?

Yes .

Sit on his face as he makes me reconsider if this is my new religion?

No. No no no no no.

Then, his teeth graze my clit and it’s just the right amount of a shift in sensation to send me careening over the edge.

I reach for something, anything to sink my fingers into, to hold on to what little grasp of reality I could find.

My body bows over and my bid for purchase in the sheets below us ends up including his long hair.

I feel their resistance as I pull his locs in my grip, wave after wave of intense tremors wracking my body.

He hums in low tones contentedly through my core, keeping firm pressure on that spot inside of me until finally I’m spent and smothering him under my body.

After a few moments, when I try to catch my breath, I remember there is a person under me.

Blue sinks his teeth into the soft skin of my thigh that makes me yelp in surprise and scramble off of him. He takes a deep inhale once he’s freed from between my legs.

I look at the spot where his teeth have left indents. He marked me? It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but it might bruise. Will definitely bruise. I know he couldn’t necessarily breathe, but somehow I know he didn’t do it simply because he wanted air .

By the time I stop thinking about it, he’s up and over at the nightstand taking the package of wipes out to clean his face. “So, when do you work again?”

“Work again?”

He’s not gonna fuck me?

What. The. FUCK?

He can’t just—

Wait.

This is exactly where I need him to be. Even though I would like to finish what he started. I’ll be spending way too much time thinking about whether or not I’ve developed a questionable knife kink because of this man.

“Yea.” He puts another piece of gum into his mouth with the kind of cool, calm that is infuriating considering the turn of my thoughts. “What nights you here?”

Confusion still bangs around my skull and I can’t keep the question in. “You’re leaving?”

He doesn’t answer, instead walking over to the door and knocking once.

Fighting the urge to let my mouth hang open, I’m still naked on the bed.

I should grab one of those wipes for myself, since it doesn’t look like he’s gonna stick around—let alone clean me up.

Before I can reach for the drawer and get what I’m looking for, the music from the club filters in as one of his guards hands him a bag.

Blue takes out five stacks of cash that are neatly bundled and puts them on the small table by the door.

“This the last time imma say I hate repeatin’ myself.” He turns to face me fully and allows the door to close behind him. “When do you work again?”

That weight of his presence presses against me, menace teasing along the edges.

I’ve caught his attention and that was the whole point of me being here. If I expect to get what I came here for then I need to keep it. Pissing him off is probably not the best way to do that .

“I work weekends through Wednesdays,” I respond after giving myself the clean up he hasn’t.

He nods, but doesn’t respond right away. I take the pause in our conversation to decide what I’ll do next.

My outfit lay in shreds on the floor, so I have nothing to wear out of this room. It smells of what we did and how I almost lost the whole damn plot because he made my legs shake.

I press into the left wall by the tablet and it opens to reveal the club robes that are kept in there. Allen told us we give nothing away for free—like I didn’t already know that. As I shrug it on, Blue frowns in a way that feels too comical for the big man.

“What?” I ask, taking time to take my hair out of the collar and assess how I’m looking in the mirror on the closet door.

I normally just blow-dry my hair and braid it to sleep so there is a soft wave in the length that remains voluminous around me.

Right now, it's hot under my hair and under his scrutiny.

“Nothin’,” he responds, coming back into the room to stand behind me. In the reflection, I’m able to see how good we look together. It’s a jarring thought because—what the hell? I’m not supposed to be thinking about together .

He. Is. A. Mark.

How I keep forgetting when he’s touching me.

And he is. Touching me, that is.

His hands are on my waist and I know the touch is possessive. Just like the bite he left me on my thigh.

Is that what he does with all the girls he brings to the private rooms?

He doesn’t get private rooms. Which I believe. Though if it’s not in a room like this, I still know he’s not lonely.

Especially not with the knowledge he clearly has about how to do… all he just did with my body.

Hell, I have not totally even recovered or processed what just happened.

I’m one of many and he’s not my man. This is a job .

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” I ask. There is no desperation in my tone, just curiosity. It was on the table and he… passed.

“Didn’t?” His head tilts to the side as his hand trails up my side to below my breast. My nipple hardens and becomes much too obvious with nothing but the single layer of blush silk covering it. He watches in the mirror and I’m drawn to watch him, too.

“You never took your clothes—” My voice is breathy as his intention pulses heavy in the air without him having to utter a single word. His other hand matches the movements of the first and now my back is pressed to his front. “Off,” I say, finally finishing my sentence on an exhale.

There is no mistaking this man is hard. The thick ridge of him sits between my cheeks. Its insistence is the beginning of what will likely be a Pavlovian response if anything from earlier is an indication of what I have to look forward to.

Who’s to say there is anything to look forward to?

The man never even took his clothes off.

With my tits in his hands, he makes eye contact with me. It’s intense and unyielding. “I don’t pay for it,” he replies, still playing with my breasts in his hands.

I blink several times and then I look over to the money that’s so obviously sitting on the table.

He follows my gaze and our eyes meet in the mirror again.

“Told you I wanted some time with you. Time is money.” His head nods once to the stacks again and he adds, “That wouldn’t even start to cover how much my dick is worth.

” His sinister smile lifts on one side and I scoff.

“Well, I guess I’ll never know.” That’s it Rocky, reel him in.

He crouches by the loveseat and picks up my outfit that he cut off of me, putting it into one of his cargo pockets. “Oh nah. You will. But when I’m ready for you.”

But that’s where he’s wrong. He might have gotten me distracted for a minute earlier—okay, maybe longer.

There is still something I’m absolutely sure of.

He will never be ready for me.

I’m the one thing he never saw coming.