Primal Pursuit

“Let me go.”

“Maybe I’ll finish you here. Eat my fill, revel in the remains. What do you think?”

My mouth’s at her ear, and she shivers against me. I bring the knife up to move the shirt away from her tits, and her hard nipples are a feast for my eyes.

“I’d say you’re sick in the head.”

“Definitely.” I let go of her hair to wrap my hand around her throat, her pulse beating madly under my fingers. I bring the knife low and use the tip of the blade to make a thin cut on her upper thigh.

She twitches.

I get even harder.

Turning it, the cigarette still in place between my lips,the smoke curling around us, I slide the knife up higher.

“Legs apart, Rabbit.”

She obeys, and I bring the flat edge of the broad, sharp knife up between her thighs, pressing against her cunt.

It’s a delicate thing. One wrong move from either of us, and I cut that tender flesh.

I rock the knife, and her breath stutters, changes, and she’s biting her lip like she likes it.

“I wouldn’t come, darling Rabbit. You might get cut.”

“F-fucker.” Her voice shakes.

I take the knife away and hold it up. Fresh girl cum is on the knife. I can smell it.

“Did you want to come, baby rabbit? You’re wet.” I hold the knife to her face. “Lick it.”

Her tongue comes out and she tastes the knife, her eyes not once leaving mine. It’s a taunt. A tease. An act of twisted seduction.

I snatch it away and release her. “Move to the railing.”

Taking a final drag on the cigarette, I drop it and motion for her to grind it out. Her eyes dart to the stairs leading up.

“I wouldn’t,” I warn.

Rabbit steps on the cigarette butt, and I look at her as I lick her blood and the rest of her arousal from the knife.

“Hands in front, Rabbit, or I’ll fucking carve my name on your torso so deep you’ll scream with the pain and wear it for the rest of your days.” I’m skating on an edge so razor-sharp it’s like multiple orgasms that get more and more intense. The darkness is full of knives and spikes, and I’m so fucking turned on by her, I can barely stand it.

She puts her hands in front and, putting the knife away,I tie them up, then loop the rope through the railing above her—the one leading to the next floor. It leans her out a little, the empty space at her back, and I bring the rope down and wind the remainder around her neck.

I push the shirt off her tits, tuck the skirt up in the front so she’s exposed, and I find my phone to take photos. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Rabbit. All tied up like a dirty whore.”

“Adding those to your jerk-off collection?”

“Every hunter has his room of trophies. I just keep mine digital.”

“Asshole,” she spits out, and I smile as I put my phone away.

I lean my head to the side as I study her, take her in—bound. Tied. Vulnerable.

This is going to be about her. She can suck me to heaven and then to hell in the car. But right now, I need to feast.

Murder always, always makes me hungry.