‘Mak,’ she whispered, terror on her face.
He twisted his lips. ‘Wait for it.’
She went still, heart thumping against her torso as he pushed down the rounded tip.
The stiletto was a pleasure tool and had never been sharpened for the kill.
She sighed in relief as it only slid over her.
Still, it gleamed with menace as he lifted it from her chest and traced the cool metal along her curves, eliciting a shiver that ran through her body.
She remained still, her breath quickening as he pressed the weapon into her skin, poised on a delicate edge between rapture and pain.
With a steady hand, he began to etch intricate patterns into her dermis, the blade’s energy leaving a luminescent trail in its wake.
Each stroke brought forth a gasp or a moan from her lips, a symphony of sensations that echoed through the soft-lit room.
As he worked, he experienced an unusual sense of intimacy bloom, a connection forged in the crucible of desire and defiance.
Her eyes never left his, a silent challenge that fueled his yearning to push her to the brink.
Her hips began to undulate, her hand straining at the cords around her wrists.
He unwound a second length of the silver diaphanous rope from his neck.
Using its trailing diamond tassels, he traced it along her exposed flesh, parallel with the light, shallow grooves the blade had made; a shiver ran through her body as if anticipation and apprehension were coursing through her veins.
With each touch, every caress of the cold diamonds against her heated skin, he saw the battle raging within her, a desire for control warring with unbridled lust.
‘The thing is, Saba, this pain is pleasurable. Can you handle that?’
She lifted her chin. ‘I can. I’m not as weak and spineless as you believe.’
He studied her for a long moment. ‘You need to know I will never force this penitence on you. I’ll let you go if you tell me you want to leave. I’m not keeping you here at will.’
‘Yet you’re testing me,’ she murmured, her eyes never leaving his.
‘Like you were testing me with your attempt at freedom,’ he retorted, baring his diamond-tipped canines. ‘With your flirtation with Zolan.’
‘So, this is a battle of wills,Šar,’ she ground out.
‘You’re a smart woman, Saba, one who understands me. That is rare.’
‘And you’re a man who talks too much. Get on with it.’
He raised a brow. ‘She’s hungry for it now.’
Her breath hitched as his words sank in, a mixture of fear and arousal swirling in her eyes.
He sensed the internal struggle within her, the conflicting emotions warring for dominance as she lay bound before him.
She arched her spine; her tits arced towards him in a silent invitation for more.
Her silence spoke volumes, a plea for me to push her to her limits.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he murmured in her ear, ‘I can reveal to you a realm where every touch is a symphony of sensations. Are you ready to explore that world with me?’
Her response was immediate and unyielding. ‘Naam,’ she breathed, her voice just above a whisper.
