The large, thick crown was dark with arousal and glistening with my juices. With the loss of him inside me, I was empty and desolate. “Look at me,” he ordered. I looked him straight in the eye, deliberately bringing my head up so the stinging bite of the blade cut into my throat. Blood welled and a single stream of warmth rolled down my neck and over my shoulder. “Do it. I dare you.” Nicolas stared at me with desire swirling darkly in his eyes, and my stomach fluttered. He wouldn’t leave me alone for long. He couldn’t. This was just another game, it had to be. I knew in my gut that he craved me as much as I did him. Or maybe I’d gambled and lost. He bent, ever so slowly, and drew his tongue along the stream of blood. The knife fell to the floor and the metallic ting of it rang out. I would not feel relief at the momentary respite. “Let’s play a game.” Nicolas’ hands were rough now, his fingers bruising as he pinched my swollen nipples. He drew his face from my neck, down my chest, over the indentation of my ribs, nipping as he went.
