Page 87 of Equilibrium
I gripped the handle of the knife and held her right leg down. Her smooth skin was going to look perfect with my mark on.
“Are you ready?” Instead of an answer, I got a frantic nod. “Keep touching yourself. And don’t come until I tell you to.”
“What?” That got her attention. “But, I-I can’t.”
“You need to let go of that control, baby. Just give it to me.” I kissed her thigh. “Trust me on this.”
She was silent, processing what I asked of her, and after a few seconds, her fingers started moving again. Slowly at first, then desperately, frantically, seeking the oblivion we both wanted to be lost in.
I pulled myself up, rearranging my aching dick, but this wasn’t about me. Tonight was about her.
I pressed the tip of the blade on the skin of her thigh, her eyes following every movement. The movements of her hands increased, and I knew I didn’t have too much time.
“Do not come.”
“Fuck.”
Blood seeped out of the cut I made, pooling onto her skin as I carved an S. Her moans became louder as I continued to the next letter of my name, the satisfaction flowing through me.
“Storm.”
“No, not yet.”
“Please, Storm,” she cried out. “I can’t.”
Blood dripped down her thigh, and as an O went around followed with an R, she screamed.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stopped her hands. “I can’t. I fucking can’t. I need to come, baby. I need to fucking come.”
“Shhh.” I moved onto the next letter and kissed the inner part of her thigh. “I told you not to stop, didn’t I?”
“Fuck, you’re cruel,” she complained but she started pushing in and pulling out, adding a third finger.
Her whole body shook as I finished the M. I dove, licking the blood around the wound, her moans fueling my desire.
“Stoooooorm!”
I pulled her hand out, and with the coppery taste in my mouth, dove, taking her clit into my mouth. I pulled at it with my teeth when she jumped from the bed. I threw the knife to the ground and pushed inside with three of my fingers, feeling her clench around me.
“Please, please, please,” she begged. “I can’t. I can’t hold it anymore. Oh my God.” She bit on her lip. “Stooorm! Fuuuck!”
The noises she made, the way she moved against my mouth, wanting more, pushing her pussy in my face, it woke the carnal desire inside of me. I gripped her bloodied thigh, pressing on the wound and bit on her clit, pulling, licking, pushing in with my fingers. I looked up, seeing her eyes roll to the back of her head.
“Come for me, Persephone. Give me everything you have. Come on, baby.”
“Motherfucker!” she screamed. “Oh fuuuuuck.”
Her walls squeezed my fingers, her whole body shaking while I continued lapping at her clit, extending her orgasm. Her blood coated my hand, and I knew that this was going to hurt once she came down from the high.
“Oh my God.” She was breathing hard as I stopped my ministrations, placing my chin on her stomach. I started making circles on her stomach, the blood from my hand leaving marks.
“Did you just mark me?” She sounded angry, but there was a smile dancing on her mouth, and I knew she liked it more than I did. I loved the contrast our skin made—mine filled with tattoos, darkened by the time I spent outside in the sun, and hers milky white, smooth, and untouched.
“I did.” I grinned. “And I would do it again, and again, and again.”
Something passed over her face. Something I knew very well; she was just too afraid to voice it.
Yearning.
