Page 99 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)

Dranan makes another noise, one that’s clearly in pain, but displeased, as if our show is angering him.

This is what I knew I needed, a performance to show that even if it’s only temporary, I’m not completely broken.

That he didn’t beat me. He didn’t destroy us like he set out to do, and I want to see the failure overtake his eyes.

A defeat that’s deserved, and not the unjustified degradation my husband is putting himself through.

His eyes narrow even more than they already are, and he almost looks disgusted through the pain.

That’s when I know I have him right where I want him.

Damien starts kissing up and down my neck, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in his wake, but then I do something he doesn’t expect, and I can feel him tense as I do.

I hold up his favorite knife, presenting it to him as an offering, an ultimate show of trust for us both, and I want it displayed in front of the creature who thought he could defile us.

His pause in movements alerts me to the fact that he knows exactly what I want him to do, but he’s reluctant, overthinking what I’m asking of him.

He’s never hurt me. Never even thought of it, and while I can tell he’s having trouble with the thought, I can’t have him questioning it.

It won’t hurt—I know he would never do anything that could potentially harm me—but I need this.

The bite of a knife at his hand, a controlled and meaningful sting that will last longer than the rest. A scar that will forever remain, created by the love of my life to mask the others, and finally a display that proves as long as he’s by my side, nothing can truly harm me.

I squeeze harder on his dick, and he bucks, thrusting into my hand with a throb as he reaches out and grabs the knife.

Dranan forces his eyes to widen, and now that I’m sure we have his full attention, I say the only thing that comes to mind. The one statement that will stand resolute for the rest of my life but will follow him into hell.

“You haven’t ruined anything.” I’m sure to say that as coldly as I can, and with my words, Damien fully understands what I set out to do with this.

He reaches under my dress and begins to pleasure my clit through my panties, the initial contact from him already tugging at my gut.

I pick up the speed on his cock, running my thumb over the head to collect beads of precum as he raises the knife to the space between my neck and collar bone.

I can tell he hesitates, not sure if I'm ready for this, but I am.

This is not only his doing, but mine. I trust him completely, and I know that the pain he causes me is out of love, not hatred.

He drags the knife down, slowly and methodically, careful not to cut too deep, and while he probably hates himself for it, I can feel his shaky breath graze the column of my neck.

His cock twitches in my grip once again, and I don’t miss the way cutting me turns him on even more.

I feel the blood begin to run down my chest, and Damien forces his head into my neck.

He begins biting and licking around the cut he just created, causing me to shiver in pain and pleasure.

The knot in my stomach intensifies, coiling tighter with every perfectly pressured stroke on my clit, and his tongue runs along my neck—sending ecstasy down my spine.

A moan escapes my lips as he moves the fabric separating us, and I can feel his touch pressing against my little bundle of nerves, making my knees buckle a little.

His hand that holds the knife wraps around me, holding me steady as he puts more pressure on my clit, causing me to pant as the climb becomes almost too much to bear.

I pump my hand a few more times, and it’s not long before we’re both reaching our limits.

He tenses and his cock pulses as I shatter, crying out and coming on his fingers as he groans and spills into my hand with stuttered thrusts.

As we’re both coming down with heavy breaths, a smirk that I’m sure is sinister sprouts on my face as I stare the pathetic man in front of us down.

I withdraw my hand from him, and bring it up to my face, showcasing the proof of what I do to my husband before dragging my tongue through the mess, cleaning it up for him to see.

The taunt is erotic, and so fucking freeing that I almost feel manic, wanting to laugh at the defeated look in his eyes, but I hold it back.

My triumphant look is going to be the last thing he sees, and I don’t want anything to deter from that.

I take the knife out of his hand with slow, deliberate movements, and lay my head back onto his chest, reveling in the heavy breaths that still brush against my cheek.

“Now you can kill him,” I huff out .

Without hesitation, my love obeys my command.

In one swift movement, he tightens his grip around my body and pulls me to the side.

He shields me, while remembering not to obstruct my view as he withdraws his pistol and aims perfectly between Dranan’s eyes.

The shot is quick, and even though the silencer almost mutes the sound completely, it rings out as a soft bell, a signal that marks the beginning of our twisted future.

As I watch his head fly backward, then slump forward as lifeless weight, the room is sucked into limbo.

One with no sound, no movement, and nothing but reprieve and warning waiting to battle it out once we come back to reality.