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“Do you celebrate?” Our eyes meet at my hesitant question.
In so many ways, Dez can be an open book because he’s very honest; he doesn’t hide behind metaphors and doublespeak. He says what he means, and that’s that for him. But he hides behind a mask so profoundly embedded in himself that I wonder if I’ll ever know what he’s thinking without him telling me.
“The Renznikovs do.” He evades my question. “After the wedding, they want to decorate for the children.”
“The wedding.” I’d forgotten Dez essentially purchased me like an item.
“Don’t do that.” He lifts a hand to cup my cheek, pulling me closer and spinning us so my back is to the wall. Caging me in with his legs spread to the outside of mine and his arms pressed on either side of my head.
I search his eyes for any indication of his thoughts, but he doesn’t give me anything. Nothing is revealed, and eventually, I close my eyes from the overwhelming dismay. After a minute, I feel his face buried in the side of my neck, and he’s inhaling deeply before the warmth of his lips glides along the side of my throat. His tongue flicks out to lick the fluttering heartbeat bouncing within my veins.
“For a month before I approached you, I followed you. I watched you leave home every day, arrive at school every day, and witnessed your discomfort with those girls when they pretended to be your friends. I was always there. From the moment I saw you, I kept you in my sight. I never went home until I knew you were sleeping for the night.” A full-body shudder moves through me at his confession.
“You did?” I gasp when one of his hands cups my breast in his palm—massaging it, holding me.
“Sometimes”—his tongue flicks out again—“I would slip into your bedroom window at night to lay with you. Just so I could touch you because I knew I would never deserve you.”
My body arches into him as if begging him to take more. “You do deserve me, Dez, more than anyone else I know.”
A growl rumbles through his body when my sex touches his. Lifting me into his arms, our bodies mesh together. I feel his pulse in his length as it presses into my womanhood.
“The things I want to do to you say otherwise.” He hisses when my hips shift, pressing farther into him, needing something more that only my body deserves.
“Like what?” I gasp when something happens between our bodies. “Ohhh,” I whisper against his neck. “Do that again.” Slowly, his hips pull back, then move forward again. A buzzing starts in my belly, and I want more, but I want answers from him first. “Tell me, Dez, please.”
There’s this beating inside my chest that needs to know what he means. It almost feels like I won’t survive if he doesn’t tell me his secrets.
Leaning over, he shuts the water off before stepping out. Grabbing a towel off the bar, he dries me off before himself, and for the first time, I take the opportunity to admire his physique. He’s more black ink from his tattoos than the flesh he was born with. The scars, I’d noticed, but I didn’t realize how extensive they were. The piercings are most shocking. He has the nose ring, of course, but there are barbells through his nipples, and as my eyes move lower, I take in his erection and for as long and intimidating as it is, the metal piercings are what give me pause.
Up the stalk are little silver balls every few centimeters or so, and through the tip is another barbell, larger than the ones in his nipples. When his hand wraps around his length, squeezing it tightly in his scarred fist, my eyes shoot to his. Dez’s eyes are ablaze, and I’m a little afraid of him. I’m naïve, not stupid, and I know my semi-nudity is a temptation to him.
“Dez?” I whisper, and he lets out a sound filled with a primalness I’m unfamiliar with.
Our eyes lock as he picks me up and carries me into the bedroom. Placing me gently on the mattress, he tugs the towel off my body, and I fight the urge to cover myself. That would only set him off further, and I don’t want to do that.
Stepping away, I watch as he grabs something off the dresser. While he’s turned away, my eyes roam across his toned back and ass. I’ve never been attracted to anyone before, but with Dez, since the first time our eyes met, my entire body has lit up for him. I crave his touch in an inexplicable way.
When he faces me again, my breath catches in my throat, my heart races until my vision blurs, and I break out into a cold sweat.
“I don’t like you cutting yourself,” he says, but my eyes are focused on what’s in his hand. “I hate the fact you even touch your skin with a blade that doesn’t belong to me.” Crawling onto the bed, he spreads my legs, and when I feel the cool steel blade touch the inside of my thigh, the curved weapon hot like a brand on my flesh, my eyes close, and my back arches.
What is wrong with you, Liliya?I can hear my former friends’ voices in my head.
I like it,I whisper back, startling at the realization.
“If you want to bleed, Liliya, it will be by my hand, with my knife. Do you understand,malen’ka ptashka?” My voice has vanished, so I nod.
“Is that what you want to do to me?” I finally manage to wheeze out.
His grin, perverse to everyone else, is slick and filled with malice. “A lot. Every time I’m with you, I dream of what it would look like to see your crimson essence trickling from your body and onto our sheets.”
I whimper unwittingly because I’m enticed by his words. There is something intensely erotic about the way he talks about cutting me, making me bleed for him, and I want it. I want it so badly I can taste the metallic tang on my tongue. What’s worse is that I long to reciprocate it, and worse still, I crave to taste him after I do it. He’ll surely think I’m sick if he ever finds out about that.
At the feeling of the tip of his blade scoring down the muscle of my thigh, I fight to remain still. And as he reaches the scars near my apex, I nearly combust, but it’s when the skin splits so close to my center that my body explodes, and I unleash a raspy scream that makes my throat raw.
Pleasure erupts in every corner of my body, my sex clenches for something to hold onto, and my heart pounds so brutally in my chest that I wouldn’t be surprised if it broke through my flesh. Every ounce of skin tingles like firecrackers being lit along its surface.
When I finally come down from the high and can open my heavy eyelids, what I see sends me into overdrive. Dez’s hand pumps up and down his length in slow, painful sweeps as he licks my blood off the blade of his knife.
