A TWIST OF FATE || Rewriting

Ch. 41 || The Little Boy

Zaria 🌹

I dig the tip of the knife a little more into his throat. My legs straddle him over his chest, trapping his both hands under. He shouldn't be sleeping so peacefully around me. Not after what he did to me.

The moonlight sneaks in through the wavering curtain and casts a dark blue shadow on his sleeping face. I dig the knife deeper, using his own initialled knife to scar him.

He opens his eyes and instead of panic or fear, I see a calm coldness in his eyes. My eyebrows narrowed. He didn't even flinch or at least blinked. He didn't even make any effort to pull the knife away, it stayed there. I so badly want to slaughter that audacity in him.

When I was too lost in his eyes, he caught me off guard and swiftly grabbed the blade. I tried to pull back the knife from his hold but he held the blade too tight that the blood started spreading outside, tearing his skin.

"The prey hunting the predator?" His sleep-deep voice is still awake in his tone.

With a blink of an eye, he flips me upside down, straddling over me. My breath hitched at the sudden surprise. He is so close to my face that if I move up a little, our lips may brush together.

My chest is heaving so fast. He is still holding on to the blade and I on the handle, his blood trails down my forearm, erupting tingles under my skin.

His big body like a beast leaves me no space to move. His whisky eyes burn holes on my skin and my heart pounded in my chest. The moonlight shined on the left side of the face and the other half of his face lost in the dark.

I finally let go of my hold on the knife. He brings the tip of the blade to the low lace-collar of my nightgown and starts tearing it apart, the blood dropping on my skin. I shut my eyes trying not to whimper.

He rips apart the material, exposing my bare skin, underwear and bra. He himself is shirtless. Both of our bare skin burning against each other.

"The more you tempt the beast inside of me, the more it becomes hungrier to consume every inch of you." He said, snaking his bloodied hand over my stomach as if marking me.

The warm wetness of his blood spread all over my stomach, he painted me with his blood all the way up to my breasts. These kinds of things shouldn't be a turn on but somehow it is like a drug for me. I always try to stay away from him but at his single touch on my skin, I become fucking desperate to have more.

"You shouldn't be around me."

"Why?" My breaths are uneven.

"Because I'm the kind of predator you'll pray to God to save you from." He warns. I open my eyes and find his gaze scrutinising my face.

The way he said it, it doesn't seem like the meaning is killing me. No. His intentions are anything but killing me. That is clear.

"Does that mean you're taking my life?" I ask anyway because I don't know what else to say at the moment.

"No. I'm fucking your life." His husky voice washes over me as he presses his huge bulge between my legs.

I still remember every second of the moment when he was inside of me. They way his cock hit inside of my walls, the way he consumed and marked me his. The way he fucked me like he was a sinner yearning for redemption. I remember how sore I was after that night. I shamelessly want to feel it again.

"Little Violence?" 

"Yeah?" I gulped down invisible air.

"I might die if I don't get inside of you right now." He groaned.