11. Ava

AVA

A t first, when I realized I couldn’t move, I thought I was having my usual nightmare.

But then I woke up and realized my hands were tied up.

And my dark stalker loomed over me, pinning my hips down.

No, I must still be trapped in a nightmare. I was asleep locked in a terrible dream and I was struggling to wake up.

But it was real.

He was real.

And so was the knife in his hand.

The sound of him ripping through my t-shirt filled the room. I gasped, my skin prickling as the cool air hit my bare nipples.

They tightened to hard painful points.

Even more so when he ran the blade over them, caressing me with the cold kiss of steel.

I fought the urge to push my breasts out toward him for more .

I should be terrified.

I was terrified.

But for some stupid reason, I also felt… alive. My blood rushed through my veins like a drug. I could feel every single cell in my body electrified.

My heart almost stopped when he slid that blunt edge along my hip.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he said, his voice as soft as a lover’s even as his deadly blade, glinting in the moonlight, promised violence. “I wouldn’t want to cut you. At least… not yet.”

I tried to scream, but fear had closed its hand around my throat.

He lashed up, cutting apart one side of my panties.

The thin strip of cotton fell away, revealing my hip, exposing more of my skin.

He traced the knife along the curve of my bare hip that he’d exposed, letting out a low growl from deep in his throat. “So fucking soft.”

I grit my teeth against the wave of panic.

Stay calm, Ava. He’s not going to hurt you.

I don’t know where this irrational thought came from. But it sounded hollow against the nightmare that was unfolding before me.

He chuckled. “Have you decided to stop investigating?”

I pressed my lips together.

I could lie to him. Say yes.

I could stop this torture, his twisted sense of punishment, with a single word.

But something inside me flared in defiance.

My childhood was shrouded in mystery, even after years of therapy, my memories of before Ebony took me in were still missing. That’s why, I believe, I was drawn to journalism, to the career that uncovered secrets and gave voice to those who had no voice.

Somehow it felt like if I could just uncover Liath’s secrets, I could start to unravel my own.

That’s why I sought the truth. No matter the consequences.

So I refused to give up. I would not walk away. Could not.

And perhaps, if I looked closer at my intentions, I would see that a part of me, a dark twisted part deep down inside me wanted to see how far he’d go.

So I said nothing instead. Confirmed nothing. Denied nothing.

But he must have read me like a book because his features morphed from a smirk to a scowl. “So stubborn.”

He slipped the blade’s sharp edge under the other side of my panties.

I choked on a knot in my throat. “N-no. Please.”

I was already bare-breasted. Already tied up and laid out for him. But losing my underwear, my last shield, felt… final.

Like something would change in me if he took away that last thing between us.

Like I’d never be the same again afterward.

Like a part of him would claim me forever and I’d never be able to wash him out.

He paused with his knife against the material, holding it away from my hip so it pulled taut against the blade. “Then say it. Obey me. ”

He’s not real. He’s not real. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that he was just another hallucination of my broken mind, praying he’d be gone when I opened them.

But I knew he wasn’t. I’d been taking my meds like a good girl.

In the silence between my gasps, the antique clock on my dresser ticked. The world felt like it stilled.

Nothing moved.

I opened my eyes and realized he was waiting for my audience.

He grinned. Right before he cut away the other side of my panties with a dramatic flourish of his arm.

I let out a sob, the built-up tension inside my chest needing somewhere to go.

Using his free hand, he twisted the torn front of my panties in his fist and pulled slowly, the material rubbing along my slit, causing sweet illicit friction as he took away my last shred of clothing.

I tried to squeeze my thighs together, but his weight on my thighs kept my legs where they were.

He lifted my torn panties in a bunch to his nose and inhaled, letting out a deep gravelly groan. “Fuck, you smell so fucking sweet.”

Shame flooded me in hot waves. Those panties were wet. I was wet. And even if he couldn’t feel the dampness through his leather glove, he could smell it.

I could do nothing except watch in horror as he stuffed my panties into the pocket of his dark pants.

He turned back to me, clicking his tongue as he let his heated gaze run down my naked body, down my breasts, my stomach, and to my naked pussy, burning me .

“I gave you an order and you disobeyed me?” he asked, head tilted to the side. “What kind of punishment do you think you deserve, huh?”

Fuck. Fuck. I wanted to kick out, to scream, to fight. But I couldn’t move.

He waved the knife point between my mouth, my nipples, and my pussy. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe…”

My gaze darted between his eyes and the threatening blade. “W-What are you going to do to me?”

To my horror, he flipped the knife in his hand, catching it by the blade in his gloved fingers. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

The chill of the air against my wet pussy felt so real, but I wasn’t ready to admit that this was happening.

I remained motionless as my shadowy stalker smiled and lowered the rounded handle to my face, the edge of the knife biting into his glove.

I hope it hurt him.

But probably not.

I didn’t see him bleeding.

“Suck.” He pressed the end of the handle of his knife against my mouth.

I pressed my lips closed and glared at him.

Fuck you, asshole.

He smiled all pleasant, a dark dangerous twinkle in his eyes. “Ava, either you open your mouth and suck or I find another hole to shove this in.”

My eyes widened when I realized what he was threatening, my butt cheeks clenching together at the thought of being violated.

I let out a whimper but I slowly parted my lips .

He slid the handle into my mouth, the musky taste of leather mixed with me coating my tongue.

He began to thrust the handle, coated in my saliva, in and out of my mouth as if it were his cock.

My traitorous body responded by aching for more and wetness trickled from my pussy. My mind warred against it, but my body wanted more.

He pushed the handle so far that it hit the back of my throat, making me gag with a loud retch.

“Good girl.”

This was so fucked up.

“One day,” he promised as he fucked my mouth with his knife handle. “I’m going to claim all your holes with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.”

Yes.

No.

He withdrew the handle from my mouth with a pop. A line of saliva snapped as I watched the glistening black leather move down my body and toward my hips.

Everything leading up to that moment had been my warning.

“Last chance,” he said as he shifted his weight off my right leg, placing his left knee between my thighs, his eyes on my exposed pussy. “Obey me. Stop investigating.”

One of my legs was free. This was my chance.

I kicked my heel out at him, trying to aim for his head.

It was no use, though. He was too quick, too strong. He dodged my kick and grabbed my leg with his free hand, pinning it down.

“Shhh…” he whispered, his voice soft, a total juxtaposition against the hardness and strength of his grip on my th igh. “If you fight me, I could cut you. You wouldn’t want me to cut such a sensitive area, would you?”

I froze. Fuck.

He pushed my thighs apart.

I didn’t want to, but they fell open, cold air hitting my wet pussy and making me shiver.

“Such a good girl. So wet. So ready.”

My gaze locked on the handle as he lowered it to my pussy, his hand pressing my thighs down and open for him.

For some stupid reason, an ache began to form in my lower belly.

“No. D-don’t…” I let out a sob, tears spilling out over my lashes, causing his brutally handsome face to blur.

I couldn’t want this, could I? I couldn’t want him .

He lowered his face to mine and growled, “I like it when you’re scared. Go on, cry louder. Beg for God to save you. I’m telling you now, when I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be praying to… is me .”

“Fuck you,” I spat out.

I wanted to be angry. To scream and curse and hurl threats at him.

Instead, my glare broke all too quickly, my sobs shaking with unreleased pressure, with anticipation.

He brushed his thumb across my cheeks so tenderly, it startled me. But his voice rattled with menace. “You look so beautiful when you cry.”

Something snapped in me as he traced the handle along my slit. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“Please, no.” My cries stopped as a strange vibration fell over me as he teased my clit and pushed back my folds.

I felt almost disconnected from my body. What was happening to me? Why couldn’t I move? Why couldn’t I stop it?

All I could do was watch as he eased the thick handle inside me.

I shuddered with fear. With… illicit want .

“Fuck, baby doll, you’re so tight. I can barely get this knife in.”

Slowly, he pushed, filling me. Spreading my pussy open. Until the smooth handle was in all the way to the hilt.

To my horror, a thread of pleasure shot through my tense muscles.

He began to pull that knife in and out of my pussy like he was fucking me with it.

My body clenched, muscles fluttering around the handle, like it was welcoming it. Asking for more.

I heard a moan and snapped my mouth closed when I realized it was coming from me.

He chuckled and the noise felt like it vibrated all the way down my spine. “You might not think you want it. But your body doesn’t lie. You’re soaking the sheets.”

I couldn’t deny it. Not even to myself. The wet sounds of the handle going into and out of my pussy filled the room, the sucking and slurping noise betraying just how wet I was.

What was wrong with me? How could my body betray me like this?

“You’ve already given your body to me, little doll,” he growled. “This pussy is mine .”

“No,” I whimpered even as I thrust my hips up for more.

My inner thighs twitched and my toes curled. Heat pooled in my lower stomach. I wanted more of him .

I wanted him .

I wanted his cock.

God. The thought nearly made me sick.

“Look at the way you run straight into danger,” he mocked. “See the way fear turns you on.”

I hated myself as I felt my orgasm gathering, rising like a wave. “You’re sick.”

“No, pretty doll.” He leaned over me, the rough coolness of his leather jacket rubbing against my sensitive nipples as he fucked me with the knife handle. “ We are sick. You and I are cut from the same dark cloth.”

My gaze dropped to his lips.

What would it feel like to kiss him? To accept the darkness, repressed and coiled inside of me. To become the devil’s mistress?

“No,” I whispered, lips a hair’s breadth from his.

He grinned. “The way your sweet cunt is milking my blade says yes .”

Horror mixed with the pleasure in my body, creating a wicked cocktail. He could feel the way my body reacted to him. For him.

I begged myself to fight him.

But I didn’t. And I wouldn’t.

I was almost on the edge now. Almost there. My pussy began to tighten, my legs trembling out of my control.

His lips brushed against my ear. “You will stop investigating Liath.”

A strangled moan escaped me before I worked my jaw around one word. “No.”

With a snarl, he bit my neck, hard .

I yelped, the pain mixing with the pleasure. I was so close.

I wanted to come so bad.

And I wanted him to make me come.

He yanked himself back off me, sitting upright again, and pulled the handle out of me.

My orgasm fell away from me and I let out a cry.

This was the cruelest punishment of all.