Page 92 of Of Blood So Cold

“Oh, baby,youdon’t letmedo anything. I do whatever the fuckIwant to,” I say, letting go of his hair. “So now, do me a favor and stand up, lie down on thisverycomfortable sectional, and look pretty while I ride your cock.”

Dorran lets go of a sharp laugh. “Whatareyou?” he muses as he shakes his head at me.

“Your one-way ticket to eternal salvation, of course.”

“I’m not even going to try to deny that,” he tells me, then gives me a quick kiss before getting to his feet. Giving me a brief view of his taut, nail-digging worthy ass, he walks over to the empty space on the sectional before lying down on it, then rests the back of his neck on the plush armrest and looks my way. “Well?”

I chuckle as I climb up the sectional, grabbing his switchblade as I do. Crawling over his tall frame, I straddle his pelvis, then go low and rub my wet cunt over his still hard cock.

Dorran lifts his hips to heighten the pressure, his expression pinched with evident want.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, I reach a hand between my legs and guide him to my entrance, then rise a little before settling down again, letting his cock stretch me out as I take it in to its very base.

“Ah,fuck,” Dorran moans out loud as he grips either side of my waist. “Thank Christ.”

I look at the switchblade in my hands, then at Dorran, who is staring expectantly at me.

“So… I was thinking…”

“Do it,” he says without hesitation.

“You don’t know what I’m about to suggest,” I argue.

He flashes his teeth at me. “Trust me, Ido.” He spanks me once. “And I promise you that I want it.”

“Yeah?”

He laughs as he places his right hand behind his head, which causes the muscles on the inside of his bicep to flex. “Yeah, Cigs; fucking do it.”

“But where?” I ask dumbly.

He sighs. “Alright, listen: you either start fucking me, or you cut me with that blade first and then fuck me, like I know you want to. I’m good anyway. I’m yours, Cigs. Do whatever the hell you wanna do to me.”

His last few words make me stumble over my train of thought, and somehow, I fall even more in love with him than I was a second ago. “I’ll go slow.”

“Please don’t,” he says. “Make me bleed, baby, I seriously don’t mind.”

I grin. “You’re the best.” I press the tip of the blade onto my finger, then study him. His skin is layered with a thin sheen of sweat, and it is doing everything to accentuate the hard angles and curves of his built frame. I run my hand over his collarbone, then stop when I reach his left pec. “Here.” I gently scrape a nail over the smooth area. “Can I–”

“Yes.”

I bring the blade to his pec, then flick my eyes to his. “Are you sure? Like,reallysure?”

“Is this the first time you’ve cut me?” he asks plainly.

“Well, no.”

He winks at me. “Exactly.”

I wanna laugh, but instead I shake my head at him before looking down again. With a swallow, I push the blade into his skin and drag it lower, watching in complete fascination as a line of blooming red blood drips through the fresh cut.

Dorran sucks in a breath, and I feel him getting harder inside me. “Ah, shit, that felt nice.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.” He arches his hips. “Do it again.”

Spurred on, I draw a second cut next to the first one, followed by a third, a fourth, and then a fifth, all but maiming his pec with wounds. “Feel good?” I ask.