Page 47 of Bloody Savage God
Same fucking cloth.
Needing the distraction, I push his legs apart so I can kneel between them, bringing my knife down his body to the V that draws my eyes to his jutting cock. Underneath, his dark hair curls up to form a pillow. With a small smile I reach out and tug on the hairs. Not hard, but enough to have Mikhail’s eyes fly down to what I’m doing.
And then I bring my blade up, cutting swiftly below my fingers. The edge of the switchblade is freshly sharpened and goes through the hair easily. Mikhail’s cock presses against the side of my hand, where it is safe from my blade, but apparently it wants to go back to its natural position.
Very well then.
I lift my hand, holding on to the tuft of pubic hair I just cut off, and allow Mikhail’s dick to spring back. Right into my blade.
“Fuck,” Mikhail bellows, though I’m sure the cut couldn’t have hurt all that badly. With a sharp blade, the pain doesn’t register that quickly. Then again, his brain was processing the injury to his most prized appendage with the appropriate horror, making me smile.
Unnecessary cruelty, my father had once told me, isn’t something we do. Not unless provoked.
He couldn’t have known how much salvation there is in something like this. How much tension can drain from your body when you inflict pain on another.
Doing this with Mikhail is nothing like fucking one of the subs at Club Steel. I go there to take the edge off, to remind myself of the power I hold. Power that I can’t assert at the office. Attracting a lawsuit from one of the naïve people who work at our headquarters without realizing the other kinds of business dealings we’re engaged in would bring unwanted attention to my family.
The willing subs at the club are an acceptable outlet, but they never truly fulfill me. Not if I don’t get to live out the violence that I truly want to unleash. The violence that under my father’s rule, I kept contained to the few occasions when he sent me on a job that fuelled my deepest desires, but never my libido.
Being with Mikhail is different. Not because he can take more of what I want to dish out, though he definitely can, but because he craves it the same way I do. Fiercely, and fuelled by dark emotions that simmer under the surface.
He looks at me like I’m his redemption now. As if I wasn’t the one who sent him out to wreak havoc. As if I’m the only one who can give him the pain that will absolve him from the hurt he’s imposed on others.
He is my perfect opposite, and yet we are cut from the same cloth.
Violence, crime, ambition.
Passion.
I lean down and suck his cock into my mouth. They say spit helps heal wounds, so it’s only right I look after the injury I caused. Twirling my tongue around the head of Mikhail’s cock, I savor the feeling of living on the edge.
I’m not naïve. Diseases are something I’m conscious of whenever I engage with any sort of blood play, but with Mikhail I get to live out the darkest part of my desires. The things that are too taboo to even think about otherwise. Right now, right here, I get to suck on his bleeding cock to make him groan my name knowing that if shit came down on my head later on, he’d blow my brains out with a fucking Tokarev Pistol. If he’d beat me to it.
And right now, that’s something I can live with.
I run my tongue up and down his swollen shaft, tracing the veins, while I feel the muscles in his legs grow taught under my hands. Eventually, I pull back, not interested in ending this before I get my due in pleasure.
Truly, the cut near the base of his shaft isn’t all that big, and I grin up at him, my lips wet. His eyes burn as he stares at my mouth. When I wipe the back of my hand over it, I realize why. Some of his blood stained my lips.
“Ever fucked a vampire before?” I ask, though my voice comes out hoarse rather than joking.
“No, but I’m known to fuck just about anything.”
That has me pull back my hand and slap his cock again, coaxing another moan from Mikhail’s lips.
Chapter Sixteen
Mikhail
Thewomanisafantasy. I’m on an adrenaline high from breaking up the poker games and my cock has been hard for Gianna ever since she gave me that short little nod in the car when I jumped in.
That’s all I got, but damn if that hasn’t made me eager for a bigger reward, because I know the woman can deliver.
And it looks like my efforts are paying off big time now, especially with the added rush of the burning cut in my dick. Hell, the woman requires nerves of steel to be with. Makes a man feel like a fucking hero to be able to take what she dispenses.
Not that I wouldn’t have done the raid even without the promise of kinky sex. Not just because I’m pissed as hell that old Mario Romano thinks he can mess with me the way he did, setting me up to take the fall for his betrayal, but because I’d do just about anything for Gianna.
Back in the day, they would have labeled her a witch. Now, I’ll pray to her like a fucking goddess.
