*TRIGGER WARNING*
BDSM. KNIFE PLAY. SEX.
"Rickie?" She laughs at the nickname, now a little tipsy as they walk into their room for the night. "I don't like the way you entertained him." He snarls instantly, replaying all the little remarks and glances in his mind. "They're our guests! In the entertainment room! They're just down the hall now- asleep."
She points in the wrong direction thanks to the booze, but he gets the point. "No," he shakes his head, "You can't entertain him. He'll get the wrong idea." "Okay okay," She plops down on the bed, raising a foot to take off her shoe, "Ill shut him down."
"I will," he kneels, taking her foot to undo the straps, "You don't talk to him at all." For the first time since they got married, Aliyah sees unreasonable fear in his eyes. It was one thing when she overdosed, but now its almost scary.
"Or what?" She smirks as he slips off her second heel, watching as his glare intensifies. "You're playing a dangerous game." "Are you sure?" She snaps back, still tipsy, but mostly horny. He stays where he is, kneeling before her, so she slowly begins to open her legs.
Firmly he grasps her knees to stop her movements, his face red from both anger and lust. "Fine then," he snaps, "Ill just have to let them know you're mine." "How?" She watches as he stands and heads toward the closet, "We're already married."
She slurs her words, exaggerating just a little for dramatic effect. He returns soon, a thick rope in hand and a wide grin on his face. She perks up at the sight, straightening her back, intrigued. "Oh they'll know," he smirks, grasping the heavy rope in hand, "Especially when they hear your screams tonight."
Her stomach turns and she is ready to fall to her knees for him. Finally. She thinks to herself, finally he will torture her, make her his little slave. Her heart pounds against her chest and her sweet spot between her legs begins to moisten.
He stares down at her as he removes his suit jacket, tossing it aside. "I hope you're ready," he raises an eyebrow, "Cause I am not holding back this time." Biting her lip she nods in approval, trying to hide just how excited she really is. "The safeword..." he thinks for a moment, "Is lemon."
"I won't need it." She states confidently which only makes him want to do more. "That's up to you, babygirl." He kicks her foot over to open her legs before stepping between them. The rope is thrown around her and under her arms.
Harshly, he pulls her up by the thick fabric causing her to hiss. Smirking he leans down until his mouth is an inch away from her ear. "Im going to break you," he snarls louder than necessary, "You're lucky I gave you a safeword."
Her skin crawls and she bites her lip, waiting for any form of contact. "Why don't you show me then?" In the blink if an eyes, his free hand is holding a sharp blade to her cheek.
The silver reflects against the warm lighting of the room, the dull end rubbing down her face. "Be a good girl and shut the fuck up." He clenches his jaw, shaking from the adrenaline that runs through his body. The slightest sign of fear sparkles in her eyes and his eyes darken with pleasure.
Obeying, she keeps her mouth shut, breathing heavier as the blade makes its way down her neck and onto her chest. His eyes stay on hers the entire time, tightening his grip on the rope to lift her arms up. Once they are up, he is running the blade sharp side down over her clothes breast.
He puts enough pressure so that it'll slice through the fabric, but not nick her skin. She nearly gasps when the cold air hits her skin. Glad to see a reaction, he throws the knife on the bed and takes the rope away from her.
