Page 23 of The Invite (The Massacre Ball #1)

Augustus glances up, a telltale smirk on his face, and he reads the answer on my blushing cheeks.

“Do you remember what I started downstairs before you panicked?” he questions, caressing my upper thighs with his palms.

The knife pressed against my core while I was bent over.

He can’t possibly think to use it again, can he? I shiver and try scooching up the bed, away from him.

Shaking his head, he wrenches me back down.

“You can’t, Augustus.”

He bends over me in a flash and grips my jaw. “What have I told you about me time and time again, little prey?”

I bite my lip, refusing to answer.

He squeezes my jaw, demanding one.

“That you always finish what you start,” I whisper shakily.

Out of nowhere, he brings out the knife he brought from downstairs, which I completely forgot about.

He traces the sharp edge down the length of my body as he sits upright once more. Placing it right above my pussy—still dripping—he pulls back his hand.

“What are you d…” I trail off when he removes his hoodie in one smooth pull. Underneath it, he’s wearing a tight black compression shirt that looks painted on over his ripped upper body.

However, that’s not what turns me speechless and my jaw slack with awe.

It’s the riveting full-sleeve tattoos on his arms. Some colorful, some black. All stunning pieces of artwork.

Is this what he’s been hiding under his clothes?

All this time, he’s worn long-sleeved shirts or hoodies so I never saw them. Just when I think I’ve figured him out, he goes and unveils another layer of his.

Augustus is tatted! A popular biker! A masked man on social media!

What other secrets is he keeping close to his heart?

I’m taking in those beautiful tattoos, hypnotized by their beauty and rawness.

On his right arm, a large snake swirls and ropes around from its tail on his wrist to the top with his mouth open and tongue hissing.

While on the other arm, random drawings paint his skin, filled with skulls and crossbones, quotes in a foreign language, and roses.

Why is he letting me see them tonight?

It’s like he’s taking one of his walls down between us.

Is it because he saw my weakness?

Does he even possess empathy, sympathy, or compassion?

I’m not given time to adjust to the beautiful revelation when he shakes my earth on its axis again by removing the undershirt until his sculpted upper body is nude.

He seems to grow two sizes bare-chested and my throat goes dry.

There’s not an ounce of fat, only muscles and ripped abdomen with six-pack abs. Each isdistinct and brick-like. I swallow desperately as I lower my gaze to the sexy trail of hair leading to his—

“It’s impolite to stare,” Augustus taunts, snapping my attention to his rugged face. “Especially when he’s your student , Miss Nessa. Do I need to remind you that it’s wrong to lust after a student?”

I jerk my head to the side, and stammer, “I-I wasn’t… I’m not.”

“Why are you dripping onto the sheets then?” His hand cups my wet pussy. “Such a naughty teacher you are. A dirty fucking whore underneath your prim and proper clothes.”

My eyes close as I twist my fingers in the sheets. Doing everything in my power to not grind against his palm. The friction is so enticing against my clit.

“Look at me.”

I shake my head.

“I said.” Smack . “Look at.” Smack . “Me.” Smack .

With a painful cry, I open my eyes and face him. A trickle of fear runs down my spine when I see him holding the knife. I scamper backward when he bends over. My breasts crushing against his chest.

The skin-on-skin contact isso delicious and soothing.

His flesh is so warm, hard, and perfect against my burning body.

But the pleasantness takes a back seat when he runs the blade to tilt my jaw until our lips are a hairsbreadth away.

I tense because of the object.

“I’m not going to stab you,” Augustus softly murmurs at the flash of anxiety in my eyes. All signs of his earlier amusement are gone. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Then he stretches his arm and presses the knife into my hand.

“Hold it,” he commands when I remain frozen.

I mutely follow his instruction and curl my fingers around the wooden handle. Once I do, he cups my wrist and raises it to bring itbeside our heads. Leaning back on his left elbow, he forces me to place the blade right below his jaw without any fear.

Is he crazy?

What’s he doing?

I try to put my hand away but he tightens his grip. “No.”

“What are you doing, Augustus?” I whisper.

“Chasing away your fear.”

“Stabbing you won’t make my fear go away,” I hiss, if that’s what he’s expecting me to do.

Instead of answering, he lets my wrist go. The sudden loss of weight almost makes me drop my arm but I get a grip. I should put the weapon away before I accidentally hurt Augustus, which is a shocker. When just a while ago, I was plotting to stab and teach him a lesson.

My mind has done a complete one-eighty in the span of minutes with him.

The thoughts in my head come to a halt when I feel something cold and smooth against my inner thigh. My eyes widen into saucers as I realize it’s the other knife.

“This isn’t safe, Augustus, nor is it a toy to play with.”

Augustus smirks, and delightfully whispers, “Tonight it is, and you’re going to come riding it.”

My heart skips a beat.

I shake my head but I can’t get anywhere.

He has me trapped.

“You’re in control, Nessa,” he says, running the knife up my leg. A depraved darkness glimmering in his pupils. “I need you to submit to me and know I won’t hurt or stab you. If you get afraid, hurt me instead. Use the knife, but don’t close your thighs, and take what I give you.”

He’s fucking mad!

“No, Augustus.” I swallow and lick my lips. “I can’t.”

What if I black out again and stab him?

It’s too risky and this is insane.

“I’m not giving you a choice,” he hums crazily, his hand inching up closer to my pussy. “I’m giving you all the power.”

“I’ll hurt you,” I reason with him.

“ Then. Hurt. Me .”

Before I know it, he covers my hand gripping the knife, and carves a straight cut in his right pec.

“Augustus! No!” I yell, but it’s too late.

Blood oozes from the small cut onto my chest and trails down to my hard nipple. Bending down, he crudely licks it with his tongue and sucks harshly until I whimper.

“Like I said… Hurt me. Cut me. Stab me,” he growls after lifting his head. “But don’t let your fears win.”