Page 123 of The Crowned Garza
Taking it, I ask, “W-what should I do with it?”
“Whatever you want.” He unzips his pants again. “You’re angry, aren’t you? Take it out on me.”
“I don’t...” I study the knife. “I’m not as skilled with knives as you are. Do you want me to hurt you?”
“If you think I deserve it.” He undoes his bow tie and unbuttons his shirt, baring his ink and lean muscles for me. “Hurt me if you’re hurt,regalità.Transfer it to me.” He touches his throat. “Here.” He touches the ridge between his pecs. “Here.” He rubs his bulging erection. “Here...”
He’s insane.
Apparently, so am I because I lift the blade to his throat and press the tip against his skin, with just enough pressure to dent it, but not enough to pierce it.
Maybe Ishouldmake him bleed for jerking me around all these years.
Fancying the idea, I drag the tip of the knife down his neck, lingering at the dip between his collarbones, watching his heart rate increase with every tiny bit of pressure I apply.
He likes this...
But I’m not sure I do. I likehimtoo much.
Easing up on the pressure, I drag the knife down to his chest and slowly circle around his nipple. One, then across to the other before pressing the tip of the blade against his nipple.
When he winces, I quickly remove the knife, snapping my eyes up to him.
The way my heart is lodged in my throat right now is all I need to know I could never hurt this man.
Before I can ask if he’s okay, he says through a jagged breath, “Don’t stop.”
Unsure, I hesitate for a bit, then slowly, gently, trail the knife down the grooves of his abs, mindful not to press too hard, butjustenough to give him the kick he desires.
Down, across, back up again, across and down again. Getting confident with the blade the more I play.
Judging by his erratic breathing, by the sharp hitches whenever I apply pressure, he’s enjoying it. The dark excitement in his whiskey eyes is aphrodisiacal for me, spurring bouts of fresh arousal between my thighs.
With my free hand, I shove down the front of his pants and boxers until his gorgeous cock bobs out. It’s so hard it looks almost painful.
“Wow.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Gingerly, I drift the blade along his length, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.
“Regina...” he rasps.
I press the tip of the knife against his swollen, blood-filled head.
“Reginetta,” he grits out, a warning this time.
“Oh, calm down.” I scoop up his pre-cum with the blade. “I would never harm my favorite part of you.”
On that note, I drop the knife and dip down to suck him into my mouth.
A low groan reverberates through him. “Fuck.”
I pull in as much of him as my gag reflex will allow, retract, then swirl my tongue around his helmet before bobbing down again.
Cursing under his breath, he fetches something from his pocket and lifts it to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth.
When I’m bobbing up for another tongue swirl, he grips my low ponytail, jerks my head back, and kisses me. Swift and hard, before telling me, “Lie back for me,regalità.”
With zero reluctance, I sweep aside an armful of crap from the desk and lie back, legs spread, my walls clenching in anticipation of feeling him nestled against them.
