Page 83 of Stolen Princess

I get a deep, plunging kiss before he stalks off in all his naked glory with his hard ass and muscular thighs giving me a hell of a show. He digs through his bag and comes back with the knife he used to slice the guy’s throat last night in his hand.

My mouth dries, and my heart rate spikes. Shit. I wasn’t serious.

He reads this clearly, but he takes my wrist and brings it up to his lips. The knife is in his other hand, and he holds the cold metal against my skin without cutting. He kisses my thrumming pulse and trails up to the crook of my elbow. Sharp teeth sink in, and I shriek and jump back.

“Hold still,” he whispers, dragging the knife along my skin beside his lips.

I tremble as he moves the blade up my arm to my neck.

“Ferrin—”

My voice dies as the knife skates over my carotid before it trails down the center of my breasts to my lower belly, before he shifts it so the blade is hovering above my skin. It repeats its track, this time in reverse, going up my stomach to my neck.

My heart is beating so fast, I’m dizzy with it.

He comes to my ear and nibbles on my lobe. “Do you want me to cut you?”

“No.”

His other hand shifts between my legs, and he rubs my opening. “Then why are you so wet?”

Am I?

With the tip of the knife at the side of my neck and his eyes on mine from inches away, he pushes two fingers into me. I gasp out a moan, my hand flying up to the bicep of the arm he’s fingering me with, where I grip him.

“Do you trust me, princess?”

Oh god. “You told me not to.”

He licks my racing pulse right beside the blade.

“That was before. This is now. Do you trust me?”

My eyes close, and I will my knees not to give out. It’s nearly impossible to think with his fingers pushing in and out of me and a blade at my neck. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, mixing with fear and making everything hazy.

“Princess, I won’t ask you again. Do. You. Trust. Me?”

“Yes, I trust you.”

I bite my lip. Holy shit. I trust him. Even when he has a knife to my neck, I trust him.

The blade leaves my neck and my eyes open. He flips it in his hand, catching the blade with the butt of it pointing up.

“Let’s see how much.”

His fingers leave my pussy, but— “Oh my god!” The round end of the knife is pushed up into me. His eyes are molten as he watches my reaction. “Ferrin. What are you⁠—”

He pushes it in and out of me, fucking me with it.

My core clenches and my nipples harden, and what the actual fuck?

I shiver, my grip on his arm tightening. “What are you… I mean, why…”

He leans in and kisses me as he plunges the knife in and out of me, going deeper. I can feel the cold metal of the blade between my thighs, not cutting, but gliding, and it ratchets my fear up. All it would take is one small move, and I’d be in trouble.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, peppering my neck and jaw with kisses.

“I… I don’t know. It shouldn’t.”