Novel & Cerita Cut The Tension With A Knife

Connor's surgical knife was exceptionally sharp, its edge gleaming ominously. Nevertheless, Timothy remained motionless, almost as if he had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him. In that tense moment, even Jason found himself holding his breath. With a swift motion, the knife sliced through Timothy's sleeve, drawing blood as it left a jagged tear in its wake. Observing Timothy's lack of reaction, Connor gritted his teeth and remarked, "You're truly tempting fate, aren't you?"

Out of nowhere, Vivi lunged at me, a knife clenched in her hand. Harvey shouted, "WATCH OUT!" and threw himself between us. The sickening sound of metal hitting flesh echoed as his face twisted in pain, blood soaking his clothes. People around us screamed. Vivi's vicious glare crumbled into panic, her hands shaking. "Harvey! I didn't mean to hurt you! That wretch came back from the dead! I thought if I killed her, we could still have a future—"

what if the blade sticks? What if it’s not sharp enough? His breath quickens. He slowly raises the knife to his throat. ZEKE (V.O.): The throat... that’s better. One clean cut... and it’ll all be over. He presses the cold metal against his skin. A single tear slides down his cheek. ZEKE (V.O.): (whispers) Just one push... and I can rest. He tenses—ready to strike— But suddenly... his hand trembles.

I curl my fingers slowly, theatrically, around the leather-wrapped handle, “But not strangled. Let the blade slide.” Kieran’s mouth twitches. He thinks I’m performing for him. I square my shoulders, tuck my chin, breathe, and let the knife go. It flies clean and buries itself just off-center. “Again,” Jace says, per his religion. “Again,” I echo, per mine. Second blade lands closer. Third kisses the red. Fourth sulks wide because I get cocky and think about Ronan’s hand on the back of my neck, which is unhelpful to accuracy but great for pulse rate.

He let the blade glide over her collarbone and Ava shivered under the cold steel. “I need you to keep still, can you do that, angel?” he asked her. “Yes, Sir,” she told him. The knife traced the line of the metal wire and Ava felt the change in pressure over her breast. Zane was cutting the cups out of it, freeing her breasts but letting the decorative part stay. It didn’t take him long to free both breasts. He put the knife away and took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked, licked and pulled on it. Ava almost came from the sudden stimulation.

Every nerve in my body noticed, and they misfired. “Relax, you’re holding the knife too tightly.” His baritone scratched an itch in my brain. I tried too. I really did. I held my breath and counted to five. Yet, my heart still drummed in my chest. “You cut it like this.” Zane’s fingers adjusted mine, guiding mine as the knife cut through the carrot. He did it again. Lord knew I wasn’t staring at the carrot, but our hands. How his hand looked much bigger than mine. How they…how they….

​He reached toward his tactical vest, pulling a sleek, heavy titanium dive knife from its sheath. ​He didn't grab my body to pull me up; he knew he couldn't. He dove straight toward my trapped ankle, sliding his arm beneath the thick nylon rope anchored to the sinking ship. The blade glided through the heavy cordage with a muffled, grinding tension, cutting through the thick fibers inch by inch. ​The ship groaned from the depths, a terrifying metal screech vibrating through the water as the hull dropped another twenty feet, pulling the line even tighter. ​The knife slipped. The blade scraped across the heavy line, but the line held firm.

Guiding my grip on the knife handle with a gentleness that makes my breath hitch. "Show me," he murmurs against my neck. His chest is solid against my back, his other hand still resting on my hip. "Properly." I can barely think with him this close, but I manage to press the flat of the knife down. The papery skin splits with a satisfying crack, releasing that sharp, earthy scent. "That’s violent," he observes. "I call it efficient." I turn my head just enough to see him, and suddenly his mouth is right there. So close I can feel his breath on my lips. "Do you have a problem with efficiency?"

My instincts screamed that they were lying. He had been fine just moments ago. How could he suddenly be at death's door? The nurse spoke rapidly, her words tumbling out like a freight train, "Madeline just passed away. Grace lost it. She grabbed a knife and stabbed Mr. Holt several times." Winston was in the emergency room, drenched in blood. It poured endlessly from his lower abdomen; the red liquid gushing out of him seemed endless. The moment I walked in, he stared straight at me and reached out to me with his blood-soaked hand.

He smirks at me as he grips it, flipping it in the air as I watch. My heart races and my pussy clenches as I imagine him using it on me the way I used it on myself, the way I like…so fucking deadly and hard. Leaning down with it, he drags the flat edge between my bare breasts to my belly button. He turns it, pressing the sharp end there until I stop breathing so I don’t cut myself. “You want to be fucked raw? You’ve got it,” he snarls, then turns the knife and drags the sharp edge back up the valley between my breasts, lightly enough not to cut but hard enough to leave a stinging pink line that has my head dropping back as I thrust my neglected chest at him.