He held the knife to your throat. Your heart was racing. You knew he could hear it. He could feel it. It excited him.
You swallowed hard. The metal hand had a tight grip on your hip. He had you pushed against the wall. The only thing you could hear was his ragged breathing beneath the mask.
"Go ahead...," you panted. Your voice was weak. You should have been scared. Terrified. Maybe even pleading for your life. But you had no fear. Not in this moment.
"I can smell you...," he breathed, his face dangerously close. It was dark, but you could make out the blue eyes. He pushed the knife a little bit harder and you felt the skin break. A trickle of blood. And it turned you on even more.
"Does this excite you?," he asked and you nodded. He let out a hiss, pushing himself against you. You could feel that it excited him, too. You couldn't help but smirk a little as you felt just how turned on he was.
"I asked you a question, little girl," he breathed, his voice was dark. It was so dangerous. You nodded again as he moved the knife, carefully trailing down, ripping the collar of your shirt. "I want to see you," he sighed, "all of you."
The knife ripped through your shirt, leaving your chest exposed, and he pressed the knife against the front of your bra, tearing it from you body. "Bet you're wet, aren't you?," he said in a teasing tone.
He knew you were. And he loved it.
Loved that he had this affect on you.
"You're such a bad girl," he whispered, circling your nipple with the blunt end of the blade. Goosebumps erupted all over, causing you to shiver. And him to chuckle.
"My bad girl...," he went on, his voice now barely audible, "she loves it dangerous." You let out a small whimper, closing your eyes as the cold steel ran down the valley of your breasts.
You felt him pull back, just enough to pop the button on your jeans and you took the hint, pushing them down and stepping out of him. Before you could even register, you felt the coolness of the blade just above the band of your panties.
"P-please...," you panted, not entire sure what you were begging for. But you needed it regardless. Something, hell, anything. He had you aching for him. And the bastard was taking his time.
He chuckled again as the knife brushed over the thin material, just enough to make you moan. Your back arched, pushing yourself even closer to him. You felt the sharp tip against your clit and you cried out, digging your nails into his arm as he held you.
"Please..." you whined again, causing another low chuckle from him. "Please what? You need to be touched?," he asked and you nodded furiously. "Need me to fuck you? Give you what you need? Bury myself deep inside that hot, wet pussy?"
You whined again, tears starting to form in your eyes. You couldn't remember ever needing him quite this badly. You could feel your wetness running down your thigh. You knew he knew. He was struggling to keep his composure. You heard him let out a sharp breath.
"God, fuck...," he moaned, his head falling back. "You smell so god damn good, so wet just for me." You nodded again, knowing there was no way in hell you'd be able to speak.
The knife ripped through your panties, completely tearing them from your body, leaving you completely exposed. He pulled back for a moment, releasing himself from his now-constricting pants. He pumped himself a few times before lifting you up and pushing into your wet heat with a roll of his hips.
He filled you completely, moaning your name once he'd bottomed out, the knife quickly going back to your neck. "Scream for me," he whispered, "scream. Let everyone know who fucks you this good."
You obliged, screaming out his name as he fucked into you harder, deeper. The knife against your throat only serving to push you closer and closer to your release. The cold steel, it turned you on. And it turned him on, too.
You trusted him.
"Feel you clenchin'," he panted, biting his lip to hold off his own release. "Come on, baby," he encouraged, "come on. Let me feel you. Let me feel you cum for me," he moaned, and you felt your release break through, your entire body shaking as you came hard, crying out his name.
He didn't last much longer, yours spurring his own. He pulled the knife away, shoving it into the wall behind you as he lifted you higher, pounding into you even harder, your name whispered over and over, completely blissed out as he filled you.
He let you down carefully and pulled the mask from his face, dropping it to the ground. He pulled you back to him, kissing you hard, passionately and tucked the knife back into the sheath.
You looked at each other for a long moment and then heard the pounding on the door behind you. Steve's voice cut through the darkness, pulling you from the intimate moment.
"Are you two done? We have a fight to finish."
