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He wants to cut me, hurt me. He wants to see me bleed.
I maintain eye contact with him, ignoring the fact that Leon and Konrad have moved to sit either side of me on the bed, and steel myself for what’s to come. Only he doesn’t cut me like I expected him to do. Instead, he lifts the knife and slams it into the wooden post before grasping a handful of hair and pulling my head back. Pushing between my parted knees, he leans over and presses his lips against my ear.
“If I wanted to cut you, Nothing, there wouldn’t be anything you could do or say to stop me,” he says, pressing his blooded thumb against the column of my throat and dragging it over the throbbing pulse in my neck. “This room will be our sanctuary. We can be whoever we want to be within the safety of these walls. I hadn’t planned on showing you this space so soon, but as you’re so determined to disobey every command, now that you’re here, you may as well experience a little taste.”
“No!” I cry, jerking against his hold, but Leon and Konrad grip my upper arms, keeping me still.
“This time, I’m asking you not to fight,” he says, sliding his thumb into my mouth. The metallic taste of blood hits me, and I try not to gag. The urge to bite him is strong, but he shakes his head reaching for the knife once more. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns, pulling the knife free and resting it against my throat.
Konrad leans in closer, pressing his bloodied thumb against my cheek. “If I were you, I’d keep very still.”
“Or you could move, andbleedfor us,” Leon suggests, swiping his blooded thumb across my clavicle.
I choose to keep still.
Jakub watches me, the intensity of his stare cutting deeper than the knife he holds delicately against my throat. “Suck me clean, Nothing,” he says darkly, the words filled with sexual connotations. “I want to know what I’ve got to look forward to.”
My mouth pools with saliva as he presses his thumb against my tongue, but given I have a knife held against my throat I really have no other choice but to suck. So that’s what I do. I wrap my lips tightly around his thumb, suctioning him into my mouth. More blood weeps from the wound, but I swallow it, never once taking my eyes off him. He tastes like he smells, like a forest after a rainshower, earthy, strangelywarm.
“Good girl,” he whispers, pulling his thumb from my mouth and leaving a trail of blood across my lips. Next to me Konrad groans, shifting position. Before I can even protest, his thick thumb is pushed between my lips.
“Heal me with your tongue, Zero,” he says.
It’s an odd thing to say, but then again these men are hardly normal. Still, I hesitate, sensing that Jakub must give his permission first. When he nods his head, I delicately lick the pad of Konrad’s thumb, tasting him. A mixture of blood and woodsmoke fills my mouth. He groans as I lick his thumb, the tip of my tongue sliding along the cut before releasing him.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Out of the corner of my eye I see him reach for his crotch, adjusting himself, and despite everything they’ve threatened, despite the knife pressed against my throat, a tiny part of me feels a sick sense of satisfaction knowing that I’m turning him on. In this moment I don’t feel weak, I feel powerful. It’s both liberating and unwelcome. Why do these men make me feel this way? I don’t feel differently towards them. I still hate them for what they’ve done, but the woman in me, the one who’s only ever known pity or disgust, feels a sense of pride.
“My turn,” Leon says, edging closer. He presses his nose into my hair, breathing me in as he pushes his thumb between my lips. “I don’t want you to suck, Nought. I want you tobite,” he growls, the sound rumbling up his throat. Internally I smile, because I’m going to do just that. I press my teeth into the fleshy pad of his thumb and bite as hard as I can. This time blood spurts from the cut, filling my mouth with metallic warmth. The sound he makes is one of intense pleasure. It’sferal. Shockingly, my toes curl in my ballet pointes.
“That’s enough,” Jakub snaps and I release Leon’s thumb, swallowing his blood like this is something I do every day. My stomach churns, my throat squeezes. God, these men. I hate them, despise them for all they’ve done, all they intend to do, and yet… There's something primal about this moment that makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life.
What’s wrong with me?
“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Jakub points out, easing back the knife and snapping me out of my thoughts. “You obey and we reward you. How would you like to be rewarded?”
“Sleep. I want to sleep,” I reply instantly, heaving out a breath as he stabs the knife back into the bedpost. I need to get away from them. I need to distance myself from these feelings that persist, that I don’t understand or even want. I need a moment to catch my breath. I’ve been running on a few hours of sleep for the past forty-eight hours and I’m exhausted. What little energy I have left is quickly fading, the spike of adrenaline that got me through the past hour or so is leaching from me even as we speak. The lack of sleep and all this stress must be having a psychological effect.
This isn’t me.
“Then that is what you shall have… but first,” he says, lifting my chin with his hand, “I’m going to claim your first kiss.”
Before I’m able to protest, his mouth is pressed against mine in a hard line. He’s unforgiving, unyielding as he grips the back of my neck. I whimper against his mouth, my lips parting at the sound, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between them. I open, and he takes.
Then he ravages my mouth. He plunders. He fucks me with his tongue. Konrad and Leon pin my arms, leaving me unable to push him away. I can’t even move my head given his hand is clutching me so tightly.
All I can do is let him kiss me. I’m helpless against these men.
His teeth crash against mine, his tongue probes and searches, swooping into my mouth. This is an explorative kiss as much as an angry one, and I wonder if he can taste his blood on my tongue, his brothers’ blood.
Does it turn him on?
Do I turn him on?
He bites down on my bottom lip, drawing blood, sucking on it before licking the pain away. His fingers don’t soften in my hair with my whimper, they grip tighter.
“Jakub,” Konrad warns, but it’s as though he's in some far away place, not right next to us.
