Page 96 of The Crimson Lily

I am frozen, terrified, or actually, maybe I’m excited. My bare legs tremble. Am I cold? My Columbia sweater still keeps me warm, but the bumps on my skin erupt like a myriad of tiny volcanoes bursting.

“I’ll ask a question, and you just have to sayno.” He approaches me and delves into my gaze. “I’ll keep asking until you sayyes.” He brings the dagger to my chest and gently presses into my bra’s center gore through the sweater. “Of course, your answer will be an obvious lie.”

He presses, even more, only to make me flinch. Then his blue eyes switch to a strident silver. Here comes his question.

“Do you love me?” His husky voice breaks the brief silence.

I instantly turn to stone. My spine twists on itself. I blink repeatedly, nervously. He just asked me the question I’ve wanted to ask him since day one of this journey. I can’t reply. I just can’t tell him. I squeeze my arm dangling in the sling closer to my body as a shield.

“No,” I stammer, reinforcing my posture and maintaining eye contact.

He flicks the dagger up and leaves a light scratch on the skin under my chin.

The ice in my blood cracks. I yelp, statically, too tense to move.

His eyes now gleam, and he leans in to steal a kiss, not one I can enjoy.

“Do you love me?” he asks, in the same tone, very close to my lips.

“No.”

I shouldn’t have said that. The dagger makes its way to my face, to my cheeks, and to my lips. Maksim draws microscopic scratches in my neck. He pokes my skin with the sharpened tip of the glass blade. This is sickening, but I love every bit of it. It scares me how much I enjoy this. My nipples are screaming underneath the sweater. I wonder, eagerly, if he’ll scratch there too.

For now, he keeps the dagger to my neck. “Do you love me?”

I refuse to say anything this time.

He seizes me by the jaw and forces me to look up. With a quick movement of his wrist, he cuts my thong and scratches the side of my hip with it, the piece of cloth fluttering to the floor. Then, towering above me, he brings the dagger between my legs, dangerously caressing my thighs with the blade.

“Do you love me?”

I swallow something in my throat and close my eyes. “No.”

He pauses. I can still feel the blade touching me. I tremble, afraid of what he’ll do next. No, I’m not afraid. My body is…begging for it, and much louder than I want to admit.

Because what will that make of me?

He pushes it inside me.

I scream something that sounds more like a deliciously relieved moan. It’s not the blade that moves in and out of me. It’s the hilt.

I can barely control myself. My hips are oscillating against Maksim’s leg, opening the way for the hilt he’s handling with such delicate care. His silver eyes flare.

“Do you love me?”

I’m losing myself. Too intense. “Y…no.”

Lies, lies, lies.

He draws the dagger out, grips my hair, and pulls my head to the side. He brings the blade to the frail skin of my neck and looks me dead in the eyes. I can feel how muchhewants me.

“Do you love me?” he growls.

“No,” I whisper, but my body screams yes.

He discards the dagger. Maksim lifts me up; I can only hold on to him with one arm, so I grip as hard as I can. He lets me fall on the bed, drops his pants, and crawls on top of me. His hips overtake mine, hold still, then start the tease. He keeps on going until I can no longer look at him. I’m convulsing under him, and he enjoys every bit of it. He comes close to my lips without ever taking them.

“Do you love me?” he murmurs with another low growl.