His lips against my cheek, he murmured, “Don't move, little dove.” He turned the knife so that the edge was resting against my skin. The steel whispered over my left collarbone and I groaned. My heart hammered harder as I felt that storm grow close to breaking beneath my skin. He set the edge vertical against my shoulder about an inch from my neck.
Slowly, he drew it downward. I gasped at first and then, unable to help myself, I threw my head back and I screamed. The orgasm shook me hard. The pleasure was so intense, that I didn't feel my head strike the wall or hear his laugh of triumph. All I was aware of was the burn of the cut and how the edge of the knife ever so slowly parted my skin. When he lifted the blade away from my shoulder, he had scored a mere scratch of a bare inch in length on me. In the moment, it felt as though it was more.
He dipped his head and ran is tounge over the beads of blood welling up along the scratch as he put the flat of the blade against my upper arm. The combination of sensations threw me over the edge again. My second orgasm didn't make me scream but my knees threatened to give out beneath me as I shuddered hard and gave a low groan. He made a small noise of disappointment and turned the edge of the knife against my skin again.
I gasped as he lifted his head and scored another line in my skin. I wept and struck my right fist against the wall. He gave an amused chuckle before stepping back. A single drop of blood hung pendant on the knife's edge. I stared at it, consumed by the thought of the taste of blood and the idea of taking the knife in my mouth as I would his penis. Some how knowing the thought that passed through my mind, he brought the blade to my lips.
I opened my mouth and with infinate care, I licked the drop of blood away. It seemed to melt on my tongue, bringing to mind the taste of his cum. He carefully placed the blade farther into my mouth, smiling as my eyes rolled and I began to breathe faster. With the greatest of caution, he put the edge down against my tounge. Careful not to cut me, he slid the knife in and out of my mouth. As he forced me to felliate the knife, my mind went to the thought of doing so with his erection.
He took the knife away from my lips and turned it so that the unsharpened edge was against my jaw. Too caught up in the sensations to notice the difference in the edge against my skin, I groaned with my orgasm as he dragged it down my throat and over my chest. He came to the waistband of my skirt and slipped it between the fabric and my skin. I shuddered with pleasure.
I opened my eyes and looked at him, feeling drugged with lust. He stepped back and I suddenly wondered what I had done to make him leave. My breath froze in my throat as he stepped out of his pants. A part of me wanted to throw myself on my knees and take him in my mouth. Another part of me wanted to shimmy out of my remaining clothes and beg him to fuck me. Trapped in indecision, I merely stared at him.
He took the knife from where he had set it and held it in his teeth by the handle. He then took hold of my skirt and pulled it down off my hips, taking my panties with it. Crouched at my feet, he took the knife out of his mouth and gestured towards me with it. He inscribed a small circle in the air, indicating that I was to turn around.
I did so and then gasped as he ran it up the back of my right leg. He moved back away from me and pulled me towards him. “Hands on the wall,” he said firmly. I braced myself against the wall, finding that I was looking down at the floor. I tried to guess what he was going to do next only to gasp in surprise when he lightly traced a line across my lower back with the tip of the knife. “Don't move,” he commanded.
My knees almost buckled as the head of his erection pressed into me. Slowly, relentlessly, he penetrated my slick sex. I gasped, shuddered, and came several times before he was fully inside me. Buried deeply in me, his erection felt impossibly large and hard. Pinned into place by his manhood, I could only whimper as he resumed dragging the knife over my skin. At first it seemed random lines he was drawing on my back. Then orgasms overtook me and the world seemed to go white with pleasure.
It seemed an eternity that I was trapped in that place of pure delight. He lifted the knife away and my senses returned slightly. My entire back seemed lit afire. I would have squirmed if I had the presence of mind to do so. He then passed his hands over the raw skin and a crushingly powerful orgasm slammed into me. In that moment, he wrapped his hands about my hips and began thrusting hard. I whimpered and then screamed as he seemed to thrust harder and harder with each motion. All thought had fled me and I was left only with animalistic howls of pleasure.
When he had spent himself, he stopped moving. His softening erection was buried almost painfully deep in me. My body was ablaze with pure lust. I whimpered and made other sounds, pressing my fingers hard against the wall, trying to claw my way into it. He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around me. His free hand snarled in my hair and he pulled me upright. As he did so, I wailed with pained pleasure and sagged against him, not caring that he had slipped out of me as yet another orgasm rolled over me.
In my ear, he whispered one word. “Mine.” I shuddered, groaned, and came yet again. He abruptly let go of me, watching as I crumpled to my knees. I whimpered, squirmed, and arched with pleasure as a faint breath of air curled over me. He towered over me as I writhed with mindless lust. The faintest of drafts whispered over my skin, making me groan and cum. Satisfied with his work, he put his pants on and left me laying on the floor in a strange mixture of agony and ecstasy.