Page 26 of Knife Volume 2

Chapter 11

Knife kept a close eye on the time so he could let her change in the two hours he gave her. She couldn’t know the exact time, but he did, and it was important he hold up his end of the bargain.

With five minutes to spare, she was knees and chest in the middle of the bed, wrist and ankle cuffs connected to each other to hold her in place. He pulled the giant plug from her ass and yanked all three clamps from her nipples and clit in quick succession.

Her screams told him everything he needed to know, and her scent confirmed it — overwhelming pain that still couldn’t hold a candle to her arousal levels.

Extreme masochists are truly worth their weight in gold to an extreme sadist, and he picked up the belt, handy since it wasn’t the first time he’d used it on her this morning.

She was still shaking through the aftershocks of the clamps when the first stroke landed across the lower curve of her ass, and her body jerked hard. The second stroke caught the same territory, and she made a sound that went straight to his cock.

He gave her four more in quick succession, each one precise, placed exactly where he wanted it, and then ordered, “Come.”

Her orgasm started about a second and a half later. Maybe less.

He struck her again. Again. Each one ramped the orgasm higher, and he ordered, “Don’t stop. Come for me, little painslut. Show me who you fucking belong to.”

And then time was up, and he dropped the belt and gave her a different order in the same tone.

“Change.”

And just like that, a wolf was standing in the middle of the bed. She stepped out of the leather cuffs, turned to him, and glared at him.

The wolf wasn’t happy about changing on his orders.

The human obeying his commands was different from the wolf doing so, and he’d need to fix that, but it couldn’t happen until he had permission to show her his wolf. Show her what he is.

Once they were both wolves, he could demand she roll over and show her belly when in this form.

But for now, she’d have to accept the fact he ordered them into wolf form.

He met her gaze and didn’t look away. Let her work through it.

Eventually, she turned away and stretched, long and deliberate, spine arching. Then she changed back and sat up, human again.

“I want eggs,” she said. “Enough to get me through until we can go to the grocery store and then get started on dinner.”

He lifted a brow. “I have most everything here. What do you need?”

“Ingredients you’ve possibly never even heard of.”

This was sudden, but the scene was over, and they’d agreed he was only in control when it came to sex. It made sense that she was reestablishing the balance between them outside of a scene. Reasserting her independence and autonomy.

And honestly, he preferred it this way — Tuesday taking her power back rather than needing him to keep handing it to her. He’d ended the scene by telling her to change, and she was running with it.

So instead of calling her down on it, he merely asked, “What are you making?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m chef tonight and you’re my sous chef. Actually, we can start marinating the beef before we go. I saw soy sauce in your kitchen, and I know you have garlic. I don’t remember seeing sesame oil. We’ll need…” She considered. “We can use peach instead of pear. Yeah, I have enough to start the marinade, even if you don’t have sesame oil.”

“I do. It’s old, and it’s a small bottle, but it should be fine as long as you don’t need much.”

“I don’t. Let’s get dressed and head down. You can cut a few pounds of beef into thin slices while I scramble some eggs and inhale them.”

- - - ❖ - - -

Knife knew his way around a kitchen, but he especially knew his way around knives and meat. However, he soon learned the Koreans have different ideas about how beef is sliced. He should’ve picked up on that by the short ribs.

Once she showed him the correct angle to slice the beef into the thin pieces she wanted, he was fine.