Marcus moves the chains around, locking them in place and making sure that I won’t be able to get away, and as he looks back at me, I see nothing but pure lust and desire pulsing through his dark eyes. He moves back toward me, and as he does, his hand slips into his pocket and pulls out a dark red pocketknife, flipping the black blade out as he goes.
My whimpers come in hard and fast as his gaze continues skimming over my body. “No,” I murmur into the horrifying room. “Please no.”
Marcus steps toward me and the way he looks at me is as though he can’t even hear me speaking. I’m just an object, here to deliver his darkest desires. He’s in-fucking-sane and I just played right into his twisted little game.
His head tilts as he studies me, and though I attempt to pull away, hanging from a fucking thick ass chain makes it almost impossible to put any distance between us. He steps in even closer, so close that I feel his warm breath against my skin, and when the tip of his black blade presses against the hollow at the base of my throat, I know this is the end.
I don’t move an inch as I draw in a shaky breath. His eyes seem to pulsate with his twisted needs as my body trembles in fear. “No,” I whisper again, begging for him to hear me while knowing that there’s no use, not with a guy as fucked up as Marcus. “Please. I don’t want to die.”
The sharp blade starts trailing down my chest, leaving a stinging pain in its wake but he doesn’t cut me deep enough to draw blood. The blade sails right down between my tits until it hits the top of the silk gown and slices through it like butter.
His big hand falls to my thigh and I flinch at his touch before he bunches up the rest of the gown and brings the blade down in a precise arc, tearing through the flimsy material with ease. I suck in a gasp and just like that, he releases the soft silk, letting it fall open and exposing everything beneath it.
The black silk falls to either side of my full tits and the way his sharp gaze travels over them has the excitement returning deep in my gut. My nipples harden under his intense stare and I can’t help but want him more. The blade slips into the side of my underwear and with one quick flick, the cotton is torn and falls to the ground, making a rush of intense desire pulse through me.
What the fuck is wrong with me? What girl in her right mind would crave someone like this? Surely after allowing a serial killer to take me, I’ll be going straight to hell.
His tongue rolls over his bottom lip as his eyes flame with desire, and despite their intensity, I can’t possibly look away. He takes me in as though he’s still deciding exactly how he plans to do it, skimming his gaze over my toned stomach and down past my bare pussy.
If I could shrink back, I would. No woman likes to be judged, and right now, I feel as though I’m standing in a store window while he considers if what I have is good enough for his pristine tastes. I’m not a thick girl. I’ve always been told that a little more meat and a few extra squats could go a long way. The last six months of eating cheap food also hasn’t helped, but I’ve never really cared too much. I’m healthy and that’s all that counts, but damn, his scrutiny is killing me.
I need to know what he thinks, need to hear those fucked-up thoughts streaming through his twisted little mind. Though, I’m not stupid enough to hold my breath waiting for an answer that I know will never come. Marcus and his brothers are professionals at mind games and they wouldn’t dare miss out on an opportunity to fuck with me even more.
Marcus presses the tip of his blade back to my skin, right in the middle of my sternum and slowly sails it over my body, though the stinging pain from earlier is gone. The tip gently brushes over my chest and it’s almost like a caress. The tip curves over my breast, pushing the silk further out of the way before dropping down past my waist and sending a wave of goosebumps scattering across my body.
He brings his hand away and I watch as he effortlessly flips the knife, the blade catching in the sunlight before Marcus catches it, the sharp tip resting against his palm. He moves into me and places his other hand on my waist, his calloused fingers rough against my body. He tilts his head down and I feel his breath against my shoulder as his fresh, manly scent intoxicates me. Before I get a chance to question what he’s doing, his arm flinches and the smooth handle of the pocketknife skims right between my legs.