Page 27 of The Devil We Crave
When I keep drawing a blank, Achilles’ eyes slowly narrow.
“Answer me.”
“I—”
Nope, still nothing.
“Let’s try jogging your memory, shall we?”
I don’t even realize what’s happening until an electric sensation zaps through my core. In one swift motion, Achilles wedges his knee between my legs, pries them open, then slips his hand under the hem of my skirt.
…holding theknife.
Alarm bells go off in my head as he quickly jerks his arm up, and before I can even process it, the back, dull edge of his hunting knife is pressedrightto my panties, nestled against my pussy.
My eyes bulge, and the sharp, silent scream dies in my throat when Achilles’ thick fingers wrap around my windpipe.
“I asked you a question, little prey,” he growls.
I gasp, my legs shaking and my toes curling in my sneakers as he lifts the knife a bit higher, putting more pressure on my core. I can feel the hard, flat metal ridge of the back of the knife pressing between my lips, and my eyes fly to his.
There’s no mercy in them. No escape. Nothing but cold, almost amused indifference.
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
“Tell me,” he murmurs.
Then his knife starts to move. Subtly at first—so much so that I don’t realize he’s doing it until he adds more pressure. Then I very muchdofeel the hard, flat ridge of his knife sawing back forth through my seam. He angles the hilt a little more, and ahorrifyingly mortifying sound rattles from my throat as the ridge rubs over my clit.
It's amoan.
Every molecule in my body tries to pull it back into my throat. But it’s already out there. Already hanging like an admission between us, turning the corners of his lips up in a dark, amused smirk.
“What were you doing in there, Yelena,” Achilles growls quietly. His arm muscles ripple as he keeps sawing the flat edge of his knife back and forth between my legs.
This is fuckingderanged.
This is sick.
I’msick.
Because as the friction of his knife rubbing my clit through my panties intensifies, my nipples tighten to points. My thighs begin to clench.
And…God help me…
I start to getwet.
“Why thefuckwere you hiding your panties for Lochlan?”
The knife rubs harder. My hands fly to his arm, trying to shove it away from between my legs. But his forearm feels like steel when I grip it, and no matter how hard I try, his arm doesn’t budge.
The knife keeps grinding. Rubbing. Shattering my defenses.
“Tell me why you were leaving your panties for him, andmaybeI’ll let this greedy pussy come.”
My cheeks flush. “I’m notenjoyingthis,” I snap, praying that the heat on my face isn’t as obvious as it feels. Hoping that he can’t tell how wet I am.
I whimper when he leans down again, his lips ghosting up the side of my jaw and his teeth raking over my earlobe. I release a needy, broken sound that I can’t stop when he does it again, nipping my ear as he starts to rub my clit faster with the flat of his knife.
