Page 84 of Blood and Thorns
Clearly, I was broken and had no survival instincts whatsoever because here I was at the mercy of a tyrant, and my thighs were embarrassingly slick with arousal. Even now his intensity radiated off him in possessive waves, a dominance I had no hope of fighting against.
“What, no comeback?” he asked, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.
I froze as his eyes held mine hostage, fear mixing with need in a twisted aphrodisiac that I still didn’t understand. I hated this feeling, the way he held influence over me.
He was so unpredictable with his actions, his nature that of a killer. And yet anticipation tingled down my spine at the way he used my own body against me, reminding me who held all the power. Spoiler alert, it was him, and when he made me feel this good, I wasn’t even mad.
Sebastian’s fingers found themselves at my core again, stroking so confidently I tried to move my hips away from the sudden sensation. There was no hesitation, my stomach tightening as I was quickly pulled to the tip of my orgasm once more.
“Beg me,” he whispered, standing over me like some great god as his fingers thrusted languorously. His intensity burned hotter, his gaze searing across my face. “Arabella. Beg. Me.”
It was nothing short of a command, and I immediately wanted to rebel. To spit in his face and tell him to go fuck himself. I knew it wouldn’t stop him, and honestly, I didn’t want him to.
My pussy ached, my breaths coming out in undignified pants as he kept me on the edge, not allowing me over. But ‘please’got stuck on my tongue, just to push him a little bit more. To enjoy the little control I still had before he took that, too.
His smirk widened, as if he was enjoying this game. Tutting, he removed his fingers, and I whimpered at the loss.
“Wait…” I began, the rest of my words lost when I noticed him pull out a pocketknife. He flipped it open, and I tried to push myself harder against the wall, away from the sharp edge. “Sebastian?” I whispered.
He was spiralling and using me to try and control it. I could see it in the way he held himself, the way his muscles tensed. His irises had somehow darkened further to become the endless night. It was worse than when he was lost in the studio, because then the haunted look stopped after a few seconds. But this time it was different.
“Such a needy little slut.” Lifting my skirt, the knife sliced into my underwear until it was nothing but shreds on my hips.
I gasped at the first cold touch of the blade between my legs.
“You’re fucking soaking,belle.” Lifting the knife to his lips, his tongue snaked out, licking my arousal from the metal. It sliced his tongue, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care.“Si parfait, putain.”
He stared down at me with unapologetic possessiveness surrounded in fire.
As if I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out, and that infuriated him.
His lips caught mine, the tang of copper on my tongue. I tensed when I felt the knife touching me again, pressing against my clit in a burst of cold steel. Sebastian held itthere, slowly rubbing it back and forth while he bit my throat hard enough I knew I was going to bruise.
More pressure, and I was so close. My orgasm clawing at me with a vicious force that had the influence to push me to my knees.
“Please,” I finally begged, my strangled voice alien as I rubbed against the blade. So dangerously close to the sharp edge. A rational part of me knew I should be alarmed by the situation, but she could go fuck herself because where was she when I agreed to swap with my father in the first place? “Sebastian!”
My release tore through me like a hurricane, confiscating the air from my lungs as I gasped to regain enough oxygen to survive the pleasure that twisted my insides. Sebastian kept touching me, stroking me through it while watching me with an intensity that was distinctively him.
My entire body trembled in aftershocks, my muscles languid as I clung to him to centre my equilibrium. His grip on my throat eased, allowing me to collapse against the wall.
“You wanted to play, so let’s play.” He pulled his knife away, only to press it against my lips. I stilled, conscious not to get cut. “Run and hide, little rabbit. Because when I catch you, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
I did the only logical thing any woman in my situation could do, and I ran.
Okay, it was more like stumbled. The remnants of my underwear twisted around my legs, as if wanting to trip me before I ripped it and left it in my wake.
I could feel his overbearing presence behind, like ashadow I could never escape. I scrambled from his office, racing towards the lift which immediately opened at my presence. There were no buttons inside, and in my panic I slapped the walls.
The doors closed, and the lift descended with a quiet purr before opening at the corridor of the floor below. The club lights were off, almost too dark save for a single strip by the bar as I quickly manoeuvred across the dance floor. The cavernous room was silent, empty but for us. I could hear his footsteps, each thunderous stride breakingthrough the blood rushing in my ears as I tucked myself against a wall, trying to control my pulse while my heart dramatically threatened to break through my ribs.
Anticipation started low, spreading like wildfire despite fear being bitter on my palate. It consumed my soul, tightening my muscles until I fought for every breath.
I couldn’t see him or hear him. Risking a glance, I poked my head around the corner, having to blink for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Sebastian stood on the other side of the club, all black tailored suit, sharp lines, and broad shoulders.
He was silent as he moved through a door, and I used the opportunity to run towards the bar, ducking beneath a table to hide when I heard a sound from behind.
The lights above turned on, spotlights flickering while a heavy beat filled the air.
