Page 85 of The Prey
“What are you going to do?”
I keep my gaze on him as he watches me so intensely through the features of a snarling fox. I’m left suspended in anticipation.
“Are you sure, Elyse? Do you really trust me?” he questions once more, heightening my fear.
“Yes. Yes. I’m sure.”
He takes a step back and grabs the crotch of my bodysuit, pulling it away from my skin. With his other hand, he brings the knife in a downward motion, slicing into the fabric like butter. It parts down the middle, leaving two flaps against my rib cage and my bottom half bare. His gaze lingers over my skin, and I can hear how hard he swallows, mixed with the heavy pants of breath that fill his lungs. He’s consumed by me, and I can’t say I’m not every bit as consumed by him.
“Get on your knees.” It’s an order, not a request, and I startle at the darkness in his voice. Doubt flickers in my mind, but I push it away. You’re safe. Without thinking of the why or the what, I drop down to my knees, trying not to cringe at the cold, damp leaves that stick to my skin.
Sebastian takes a step forward and presses a hand to my chest, pushing me backward. “Lie down and give yourself to me, Prey. Let’s see if you trust me as much as you say you do.”
I let him guide me to my back and watch curiously as he drops to his knees, the night sky above blanketing us with its stars. I notice the way his hands are clenched tight, braced on his thighs. He looks downright frightening, but somehow I know I’ve never been safer than I am right now.
There’s a slight tremble to my voice, more from the fear of anticipation than actual fear of him. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Whatever I want, Little Prey, and you’re going to let me because you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”
I swallow past the lump forming in my throat and try to wrap my head around the onslaught of emotions that are barreling into me. He grabs me by the ankle and pulls me closer, but instead of putting my leg back on the ground, he rests it on one of his shoulders and maneuvers me, my legs spread wide open to him. The desire to snap my legs closed is overwhelming and not because I don’t want him to touch me, but because it makes me feel vulnerable to show the most sacred, untouched parts of my body. Not that he knows they’re untouched.
I consider telling him the truth—that I’m a virgin—but snap my mouth closed before any words can come out. I don’t want him to reject me for that simple reason alone. I don’t want this moment between us to end. By the time he finds out, it will be too late to stop.
I keep my gaze on him, watching intently so I don’t miss anything. The air in my lungs stutters out when the knife returns to view.
“Keep your leg against my shoulder, and don’t move it. I’d hate to accidentally hurt you.” Thought his tone is teasing, I know he’s serious from the dead-ass look in his eyes. My body involuntarily shivers at his confession.
What the hell is he going to do with that knife? Even though I question his motives, I don’t make a move to get up or stop him.
“Mmm, so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, staring down at my pussy. “I can’t wait to see how she looks stuffed full of my cock.”
Slowly, he lifts the mask up to rest on top of his head. Then it’s like slow motion as he brings the hilt of the knife to his lips. Using two fingers, he holds the steel blade and wets the hilt, pressing it deep into his mouth.
It’s fucked up, but also strangely erotic to watch. When he pulls the hilt of the knife from his mouth, it’s wet with saliva, and I stare up at him, confused. His fingers gently stroke against my inner thigh, and when he drops his hand, the knife disappearing from view, I freeze.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Remember, keep very still, Little Prey.” His voice is a whisper, and my nipples harden to stiff points as his fingers brush against my wet, sensitive skin.
Holy shit. My body heat rises to a combustible level.
Lifting my head to get a better look, I watch as he flips the blade around the hilt end toward my entrance. Fuck no. He isn’t going to do what I think he is…is he?
“Sebastian.” I’m trembling now, my gaze ping-ponging between where he touches me and his face.
“Yes, Little Prey?”
The hilt brushes over my clit, and every nerve ending comes alive. I can barely breathe, let alone form a coherent thought, but my worry for him overshadows that pleasure. The blade is sharp, and if he’s going to put the other end inside me or touch me with it, he’ll need to be holding the blade to maintain complete control.
“You can’t…” The air escapes my lungs as he slides the end back over my clit, and I whimper from the onslaught of sensations.
“What was that?” He chuckles darkly.
“Stop. You can’t. You’ll cut yourself.” My response comes out in a rush.
He gives my clit one more stroke, and then I feel him slipping through my soaked folds, trailing down to my entrance. I can’t move for fear he might accidentally cut me, but I can touch him, which is exactly what I do. Placing a trembling hand on his arm, I use the connection to make certain he both sees and feels me.
“Unless you’re choosing to use your safe word, I’m not stopping.” His penetrating gaze is back on me, flicking across my face, reading my features. I can’t put into words how much it means to me for him to take my feelings into consideration. Especially when I know it’s not something he’s used to or even does. And a tiny smile tugs at my lips because while he says he won’t stop, he doesn’t penetrate me with the knife either.