Page 42 of Cyber Revenge

The vest is the first thing to hit the floor, discarded and quickly forgotten about. My paint-stained shirt is peeled up over my head, leaving my chest bare to the cool night air, hardening my nipples instantly.

Cargo pants undone, tugged down, boots kicked off. All that’s left now is a thong, purple, to match the growing obsession I have for this man. He hooks his gloved thumb through the strap and pulls hard, ripping it from my body.

A whimper escapes me, causing yet another cocked head as he brings it to his face, inhaling deeply before shoving them into his pocket.

By the time I’m naked, my skin is damp with sweat and sticky with paint. My chest heaves.

He pulls a knife out from his thigh holster, letting the blade glint in the light filtering into the room. His eyes lock on mine as my heart rate picks up.

He brings the blade down to my skin before looking into my eyes again, asking for permission silently. Waiting for me to give the okay.

“Say it,” he says, voice low.

I look into his eyes, searching for answers.

“Say what?” I ask in a breathy voice.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me to keep going or to stop. Yes or no, killstreak.”

“Yes,” I breathe.

The blade glides along my skin. The cold steel against my belly, then higher, between my breasts, against my throat.

I arch into him, silently begging for more.

I know I shouldn’t be trusting this man. After what Patrick put me through, I shouldn’t be letting another man hurt me. But I want this pain, I’m craving this pain desperately.

I’m craving him.

I trust him. For some unknown reason, I trust him more than I ever trusted Patrick.

“Please,” I whisper. “Do it.”

He makes the first cut just under my breast.

Thin. Shallow. Intimate.

I moan.

It stings.

It burns.

I gasp and arch into him, body singing with want.

He licks the blood from my skin like it’s dessert, like it’s the first taste of something holy, and he groans a deep, throaty groan.

“You taste so fucking good.”

Then he shoves me into the wall, gripping my throat with one hand, and pushes two fingers into me with the other.

His fingers pump into me, hitting that spot inside, turning me into a quivering mess.

“Killstreak.You’re fucking mine. Do you understand?” he growls.

I’m already on edge, already so worked up from not coming for so long, his touch sends shockwaves through my body. At his words, I shatter.

His fingers slide out of me and my pussy pulses, needing to be filled again. I whimper, missing his warmth. The loss is quickly replaced as he tears off his mask and starts to pepper kisses and nibbles along my belly and thighs. His mouth barely grazes the spot I want him most.

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