Page 37 of Scaredy Cat
“I think I’d settle for having you wearing my initials, though. Those other designs seem so pretentious.” I fight him when he moves, trying hard to do anything as my heart pounds in my chest.Get outit seems to scream with every beat.Get him off.
But no matter how hard I jerk at the cuffs over my head, I can’t break free.
“Stop.”
“Beg.”The knife point digs in a little more until the annoying sensation becomes pain. I bite my lip, not wanting to make a noise, but when I feel the trickle of blood on the front of my thigh, I can’t help it anymore, and fear erupts from every vein and nerve.
“Please!” I cry. “Please stop. Please don’t do this. Please don’t—” He drags the blade upward and I arch against the too-hot sensation that floods my body with adrenaline and exhilaration.
“Keep going.” He licks at my thigh, where I can feel the blood. Using only his sense of touch, he chases the taste of it,until he’s licking at the little wound he’s made. “Beg, Scaredy Cat.”
“I don’t want to die. Please don’t?—”
“Are you scared?”
I hesitate, my throat closing around the admission. He doesn’t press the issue. He just continues to lick at the cut, though I know it’s no longer bleeding as his tongue rasps over the sensitive skin where he cut me.
I’m not scared.
I’m terrified.
My hands rattle in the handcuffs, my chest heaving with every breath that might be my last. The way my heart beats in my chest—rapid and pounding—is nothing compared to the feeling of butterflies in my stomach.
“Yes,” I whisper at last.
The knife drops to the table with a thud, and my stalker readjusts his grip. “Say it again,” he orders, his voice rough and husky. “Say itproperly.”
“I’m scared of you.” The words are easier now that I’ve admitted it. “I’m so fucking scared?—”
He doesn’t let me finish. Suddenly, his mouth finds the apex of my thighs, and he licks his tongue over my folds with so much enthusiasm that I know it can’t be fake. He doesn’t give me time to get used to it, and ignores my shocked little gasp. His tongue works against me, locating my clit with ease and sucking loudly against it, his teeth occasionally brushing it. With both of his hands gripping my thighs, he can easily keep me open and in place while he devours me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
“W-wait…wait…” I pant the words, head spinning, as my hips buck and writhe in his grip. “Please, I—I’m—” Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Pleasure surges through me likefire, radiating from his mouth all the way up to my fingers. With a shock, I realize belatedly that I’m dragging him against me with my heel in his shoulder blade, instead of trying to push him away like I should.
“You—oh, fuck! You should at least tell me your name!” I demand in a high, uneven voice. “It doesn’t feel fair that you know mine.”
“Unfair?” he lifts his head enough to chuckle. “Oh, poor baby. Poor little thing.” His words are cruel in a taunting way, and he dips his face to bite down on my inner thigh. But this time, it’s more than a nip. He growls when I pull in a breath, his tongue laving over the sensitive flesh he’s sucking against and his teeth are buried in.
If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to have a hickey to rival any that this world has ever seen.
“You’ll just have to live with that unfairness for now, Scaredy Cat. But when I make you come, you’re more than welcome to call me your stalker.” He licks over the spot again, and I shudder at how sensitive I am after the voracity of his teeth and tongue.
Without waiting for my response, he goes right back to what he was doing, his mouth unerringly finding my slit. His tongue works into me, curling and licking like he wants to taste every inch of me. With his grip tight on my thighs, all I can do is curl my fingers into my palms while he shoves his face into my pussy and shows me the meaning of the worddevour.
At a particularly harsh swipe of his tongue on my clit, my back arches and I have to close my eyes against the darkness of the barn. “Wait…” I pant.
“Why?” He lets go of my thigh, obviously trusting me to stay put, and slides two now bare fingers into me. “Because you’re so close for me, Persy? Because you’re going to come for me?”
“Because the ghost of Jeremy Lane is going to slit your throat,” I snap in reply, unable to help myself.
He laughs, obviously not offended, and adds another finger, fucking me with them. He scissors them inside me and curls them until he finds that spot that has my back arching off of the table like I might levitate, if not for the handcuffs.
“I’ll take my chances.” His tongue swipes over my clit once, then again, and that’s the only restraint he shows before he teases and licks at me mercilessly as his fingers work in and out of me. The sounds that leave my mouth have gotten louder, more embarrassing, and I know I’ll never be able to live them down.
“Come on, Persephone,” my stalker growls against my inner thigh, kissing near where he left the mark on my skin. “Come for me. Be a good girl and come on my fingers. Show me just how greedy your pussy is, babe. I want to feel how good it’ll be when I have you coming on my cock instead.”
His words just serve to fuel my orgasm, and his tongue on my clit pushes me to my release that has me crying out for him, though the words that leave my mouth are just a few different slurred curses and swear words. Some of which I’ve probably made up on the spot.
My stalker’s fingers slow, before he finally pulls them free. “Good girl,” he praises, the words sending a warm little shiver of excitement through me, even though all I can do is lay there on the cold table with my hands still cuffed above me.
