Page 11 of Cut of the Dark Elf's Blade
I didn’t think this would be how she would react. I expected full, raw fear. Maybe tears. Definitely shaking. And yeah, I thought she’d beg me, too. My cock has been impossibly hard for the last hour as I sharpened my blades, waiting for her to find me so that I could bring her to her knees, looking for mercy I don’t possess.
Instead, Neveah’s back bows as my blade flicks across her nipple, puckered and pressing against her thin nightshirt. It makes me wonder if the fear is only spurring her arousal, perhaps to the point that she can’t even taste the tang of it permeating her skin.
Or maybe she just likes being scared.
The thought makes my need for her pulse through my body violently, and I dig the blade in a little deeper, desperate to rip the clothes from her body and see her bare before me. Based on the way that she leans into my touch, her eyes hooded with lust and the scent of her arousal wafting through the air, I don’t think she’d protest.
“No?” I coo, and I love the way her breath hitches as I talk. Her eyes haven’t left my face once, like she’s soaking me in. “Then what are you?”
Shifting, my free hand brushes up the outside of her thigh. Her legs are mostly exposed in her thin little shorts, and I have to fight a groan at how fucking good she feels. Her skin is soft, smooth, and I want to mark it. I want to see the pale color flushed because of me, bruised and red because of me. I want to see her body as a reflection of my obsession.
My wrist shifts forward as the delusion sweeps me up, and I puncture the shirt. I don’t quite draw blood, but I know that I must scratch the skin beneath. But Neveah doesn’t react like I expect her to. She doesn’t jerk back or curse me.
Shemoans.
I blink over and over, the blade still pressed into her sternum as the blood drains from my face and trickles down into my engorged cock. That one sound is about to be my undoing.
“Little liar,” I admonish, though my voice comes out too rough and gravelly. “I asked a question.”
Her pupils are dilating and contracting over and over, her long lashes fluttering over those gorgeous green eyes as her mind struggles to process what’s happening. But when I lean down so that my forehead presses to hers and dig the blade in enough that another soft gasp escapes her, she finally stutters out a response. “I-I don’t know.”
A grin tugs at the corner of my lips, and I pull back enough to look down at her torso. I tug the knife down a little farther, watching as the fabric gives way beneath the blade. There’s a small red line along her skin that looks divine. I want to run my tongue along it and hear her moan again.
“No?” Her hands clench and unclench as I rip open her shirt. “I have an idea of what it is you are feeling. Why don’t you try telling me the truth?”
Another soft moan works its way up her throat as I continue down her torso, and I don’t think she’s even listening to me. Honestly, I can barely even think straight looking at her right now. Her hair is already tousled, and her skin is already flushed and sweaty. The little whimpers are only making matters worse, and I can only imagine what she looks like thoroughly fucked in the way only I can.
Neveah’s legs tremble as I approach her belly button, and she makes no effort to stop me. Her top is slowly turning into little more than shreds of fabric that are barely containing her perky breasts, and I’m tempted to slash open the only intact piece.
“What do you want?” It’s a soft, shaky plea, and my vision flashes as I nearly lose the grip I have on my self-control. It’s been so long since I have felt like this, unable to contain the hunter that prowls beneath my skin, but with Neveah, I want to unleash on her.
And I have a feeling she would let me.
“You,” I growl, jerking my hand down to rip the rest of her shirt in two. She whimpers softly, but the sound lacks fear. It’s impatient and needy, and I nearly drop to my knees right then.
The thin blade rests at the top of her shorts, and I’m considering ripping them out of my way. Her scent has grown so strong that my mouth is nearly watering, and I am dying for a taste.
Lifting my free hand, I touch the exposed spot on her sternum where I first cut through the fabric and brush down the length of her torso now that her shirt is nearly cleaved in half and fluttering open. Her skin is heated and raised beneath my touch, and Neveah moans again as I approach her waistband.
I tear my eyes away from her flawless skin, now bearing a mark that I bestowed on her, to meet her green ones. “Tell me.” My voice is so low that it’s little more than a threatening rumble. I hook a finger in the band of her shorts, my knife poised to cut them open. “And don’t even think about lying.”
Leaning in closer, I curl around Neveah’s body until her chest is flushed with mine and our noses are nearly touching. Apprehension flickers across her face, and it pulls a smirk out of me. Good. I’m glad my little liar does have some sense of self-preservation. That will make this all more interesting.
I tease her skin with my knuckle and the end of my blade, noting how she pushes into my touch despite the evident emotions on her face. “Are you afraid of me?”
6
NEVEAH
My mind is so foggy right now with arousal that I am barely registering that I should probably not have put myself in this position. I have no idea who this elf is, and while my intrigue and pride pushed me too far, I never should have let it go here.
My shirt is practically tattered, there is a line of fire down my torso that is heating me in the wrong kind of way, and there is a knife pressed against my abdomen.
Yet I’m staring up at him with a mixture of desperation and confusion. He’s waiting for an answer – one I’m not sure I know how to give him.
Should I be afraid? Absolutely. I should be petrified. I should be running, locking myself in the safety of my room.
And I should not be letting him scratch my skin with blades primed to slice me open. Even more than that, I shouldn’t want him to continue.