Page 66 of Rebel
He kisses me again and pushes the handle of the knife inside me. I can’t help but clamp down on it, a gush of wetness running downthe blade. We’re sharing breath, our lips barely touching, Rebel’s eyes locked on me as he uses his knife to fuck me.
His hand tightens around my hip as I moan, my head tilting back enough for him to bite down on my neck, making me jerk. He hisses, but doesn’t stop, and in my lust-infused state, it takes a second to register and tilt my head back.
“Did you-”
“I’m not stopping until you come, little villain.”
“But-”
He pushes the handle deeper inside, making me gasp and rise on my toes. I couldn’t argue even if I wanted to despite the slow, controlled movements he is fucking me harder.
The sensation of the cold metal and his hot body pressed against me becomes too much.
“That’s it,” Rebel whispers into my ear. “Come for me. Come all over this knife fucking you.”
I lose it, the power that he holds over me no longer matters because my body has locked up with pleasure as an orgasm tears through. I barely even register him removing the knife, sweeping me up and lowering me onto the couch, he drops over me, shifting my hips and pressing himself between my thighs.
My mouth falls open as he rams inside of me, setting off aftershocks from the orgasm that is still rippling through my body. He’s like a wild animal between my legs, but the way he touches my cheek and the slow, languid roll of his tongue against mine are jarring.
He keeps going until I come again before he roars out his own release, pushing up till his elbows lock and his head tips back, the muscles and veins straining up his arms and throat.
It’s only when we come down that I see all the blood.
Chapter Seventeen
Rebel
“You’re lucky Colt has a first-aid kit in here.”
She drags me into the bathroom before I’ve come down from the mind-melting orgasm, but she’s right. The cutisdeep. I got lost in the way she was like putty in my hands, trusting me not to hurt her.
I should know better, knife play can be dangerous if you don’t take proper care and focus, and I fucked up. I’m just glad I didn’t cuther.
“Can you not mention your cousin, the priest, when my cum is dripping out of you and we’re covered in blood?”
Her nose wrinkles, but she is too focused on making sure I’m not bleeding out to care about those things.
Or the fact we’re crammed into her tiny bathroom, both naked and our skin flushed from the hot as shit sex we had. Again.
Kinsley doesn’t even care I’m twice her size and could pick her up with one arm, because she shoves me down onto the closed toilet seat without a second thought. The cold of it on my ass is more of a shock than the damp cloth she puts over the cut.
“Jesus.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
“The seat is fucking cold.”
Her eyes meet mine, and she stares for a moment as if she is having a hard time computing what I said. She shakes it off and goes back to cleaning my hand.
I’m not bleeding out. From the looks of it now it’s clean, I don’t even need stitches, but she’s tending to me like my hand is about to fall off.
Nero sent everyone but him and Fury away after I’d lost my cool with Wallen’s pathetic attempts to stonewall us. I only got away with it for as long as I did because Nero didn’t want Wallen to see any dissent.
We aren’t killing the little prick once he’s talked. He’s going back to prison. Nero doesn’t want there to be anything he can use against us in the prison. It’s full of people who would love to hear Wallen talking about us arguing among ourselves. Nero could see me losing it, so told me to cool off and not come back to the clubhouse until tomorrow.
When I stormed out of there, I had every intention of getting on my bike and going out to look for trouble, to find someone who deserved a beat down, maybe even thought about going back to that prick Mark’s house to break the shit out of his other hand.
It’s worrying as fuck I ended up here. The only saving grace is it’s my blood all over her living room floor, and not hers.
