Page 24 of The Killing Game

Sitting him up right, I make quick work to tie his arms and legs to the appropriate sides of the furniture’s feet. Standing back, I take a look at my handiwork. He’s seated like a beautiful statue. His clothed front fully exposed to whatever I want. A calmness takes over my body.

I’m back in control.

I saunter over to him, crawling onto his lap. I straddle his legs, my center placed delicately above his. Placing my hands on his chest, I stare at his chiseled features. His chest slowly rises and falls under my touch. Not how I expected our first, or even second, intimate interaction to go. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to make it more normal.

I trace the outline of his face with my fingers, pushing a stray piece of raven hair off his forehead.

Oh, well.

I grab his chin between my thumb and fingers. Gently, I shake his head. When he doesn’t stir, I tap his cheek with my finger tips. It takes a few tries before his eyes flutter back to life. Gasping, he takes a huge breath. His eyes dart around the room before landing on me.

“There he is. Welcome back to the living, baby,” I coo at him, caressing his cheek with the back of my fingers. I flutter my lashes and feign my sweetest smile possible.

Jason’s whole body juts forward as he tries to move, which he quickly finds is useless. The chair beneath us groans under the sudden movement. He looks around again, lips pursed in a thin line. I can see the wheels turning in his mind as he tries to work his way out of this one.

I giggle. His eyes shoot back to me, glaring and heated.

“You’re cute when you’re all worked up,” I say, gently running my fingers through his hair from the top of his forehead. His head follows, a deep rumbling escaping from him. I watch as his jaw relaxes ever so slightly. Making my way to the crown of his skull, I ball my hand into his hair, pulling his gaze back to me. His eyes lock with mine with a burning desire behind them. He either wants to fuck me or fucking kill me. Either will do in this scenario.

“What do you want, Ashe,” he asks. His voice is low and gravely, no doubt from the rope choking him moments earlier. Strangling someone can do a number on their windpipe if you don’t do it correctly.

“I told you. I want to have fun,” I say, innocently tipping my head to one side. I bite my bottom lip to contain my excitement.

He pulls at his restraints, bucking his hips into me. His noticeably hard length presses into my center. The contact sends a jolt of energy straight to my core. I tilt my head back and push back, savoring the sensation. One hand gripping his hair and the other keeping steady on his chest, I roll my hips forward to meet his growing erection.

“Be a good girl and let me out of these restraints. I’ll show you how much fun we can have,” he grunts.

I cluck my tongue, continuing my slow roll over him. “Good girls do as they’re told.”

I lean in, pressing my chest to his. I pull his head forward. Our lips are inches apart and I can feel his warm breath mixing with my own.

“I am neither good nor a girl. I am a woman. Women take what they want and leave you begging like the little bitch you are. You took my control away from me with that little stunt you pulled. I want it back. So you’re going to be a good little pet and give me what I want.”

“And what if I don’t?” Jason bites.

I release his head and capture his face, closing the distance between us. My mouth feathers along his as I drag my tongue along his bottom lip. His mouth opens slightly, tongue darting out to meet mine. I snicker. His impatience glaringly obvious in his actions.

“Your body says otherwise,” I mew before taking his mouth on mine. Lips crash together with fervent need.

He groans against me as I lick his bottom lip, asking for entrance. He opens, fully submitting to my request. Our tongues dance together as I grind over his covered length. His sweet taste, pineapple and rum, invades my senses as I deepen the kiss. I pull his lip between my teeth, biting hard until copper laces my tongue. I lean back and smile as blood drips from my mouth. Wiping the blood away with my thumb, I remove the knife from my waistband with my other hand. I guide it gingerly under the front of his shirt. Blade facing up and tip firmly against his toned abs, Jason stills beneath me.

“You’re just a fuck toy to me. A warm, living dildo that I can have my way with,” I say, setting the knife taught against his shirt.

Jerking up, I rip his shirt with ease from waist to neck. The shirt falls open to reveal smooth, sweat-soaked skin. I glide the tip of the knife down Jason’s cheek before placing it at the base of his throat. Jason’s eyes widen, but he stays silent, watching every movement.

“Now, be a good pet and sit still. Wouldn’t want your pretty face to get ruined,” I croon. Keeping the knife tightly at his neck, I slide my free hand beneath his waistband. My fingers trace the outline of his swollen member and Jason’s hips tilt towards my touch.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. So needy,” I taunt. My fingers continue to trace from base to tip. I flick my thumb over his swollen head, wetness covering my skin.

“What’s the safe word, pet?” I demand.

“Get. Fucked,” Jason spits back.

I grab his hard cock in my hand and squeeze, applying enough pressure to make him hiss from the contact.

“Try again,” I chide. “What. Is. The. Safe. Word?”

I can feel his heartbeat hammering inside his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing becomes more erratic. I tighten my grip on him even more, staring into the burning frustration behind his amber eyes.