Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My heart raced.
I let my head fall back to the bed.
This shit is going to hurt!
“In the opera, soldiers ask Carmen when she will love.”
I’m going to bleed.
“And Carmen replies with the song, singing it in front of the crowd of the girls from the factory and the guys in the square.”
That scalpel is going to burn into my skin.
“There’s so much I can show you.” He picked up the wet cloth and began to clean the scalpel with the liquid he’d smeared on my skin. “And there’s even more you can show me. I must admit I’m not as up-to-date with music from this time. You’ll have to show me the popular music out there now.”
What the fuck is he going to do with that?
He placed the cloth to the side and held the scalpel up.
The hair on my arms stood on end. I fisted my hands. My muscles grew taut as metal. Every breath I took was like a punch in the chest. Terror rushed and spiked in my veins. I vibrated with it.
Stay calm. Stay calm.
He gazed down at me. “Every night, I’ve dreamed of this moment.”
Well. . .I hope it was a nice, painless dream!
With his free hand, he gripped my hip, lowered onto the bed, and moved closer to me.
I tried to scoot away.
He yanked me back, tilted my way, and pierced me with an intense gaze. “Never run from me again.”
Buddy. . .the first moment I get. . .I’m racing away.
“Do you understand, Phoenix?”
I nodded.
He narrowed his eyes. “Even with your head’s movements. I can see the truth within your eyes. You’re a terrible liar.”
Apparently, I’m bad at hiding too.
I should have gone to another state. Another country. But I was more scared of leaving Quin, than bumping into Cain again. Plus, there was something about the unknown that set me on edge way more than the sharpness of his knives.
“That’s okay, Phoenix.” He directed his gaze to my shoulder—the one with the C-scar. He boldly inhaled. “I’m going to spend these next weeks getting us on the same page.”
Okay. So for sure not going to kill me.
I had to keep focusing on that part. It was difficult when I was bound to the bed and he had tons of knives out. A situation like that would make most people shiver and wonder.
And honestly, am I supposed to be relaxed with someone who has my used tampon in their pocket?
He gazed at the C-scar. “Quin wanted to know why I put that on you.”
I widened my eyes.
“I didn’t tell her.”
I trembled from the memory of that moment.
“When I did it, I actually didn’t know why either. The idea just came to me.” He moved closer to that side and stared at the scar. “It was just this. . .primal urge to mark you. I didn’t understand that at the time.”
He lowered his face to my breasts and brushed his nose along my skin.
My heartbeats boomed.
He licked a circle around my nipple. I forced myself to not moan, holding it in as much as possible. The muscles of his neck flexed as he sucked my nipple into his mouth. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it felt so damn good.
Stop it.
I shut my eyes as if I could shut the pleasure of his tongue away.
Stop it.
Yet, he rolled his tongue along the sensitive point of my nipple and my body betrayed me more.
Squirming, I moaned under the duct tape.
He moved to the other nipple and flicked it with his tongue.
My pussy grew moist and I wanted to argue with my body to behave.
Grunting, he lapped at the nipple. My mind shifted from pain to desire. Never stopping his wet attention to that nipple, he tapped the scalpel against my other nipple.
That brought me back to the horror of the situation.
I turned my view to the scalpel and froze.
Please, don’t cut my nipple off or anything.
The tip of the scalpel rested on it.
I really like my nipple, man. Don’t you like it too? It’s a great nipple!
Groaning, he lifted his head. “Your skin is so fucking soft. So sweet. I wish I could explain the taste. I wish I could write about it. Savor it.”
He rose and hovered over me.
Thank God. He wasn’t going to cut my nipple off.
Part of me wished he’d return to sucking on my nipples. That felt so good. The other part of me was happy that his focus was on something else.
He frowned. “I’m supposed to be focused on our discussion, but your sexy body is a distraction.”
Maybe, we should go with it.
He slipped the tip of the scalpel along my breast. “When I say that you’re mine, I should clarify.”
I shivered under the scalpel.
He moved the tip up to the c-shaped scar. “You’re. . .a vessel. . .mine alone. . .”