Him Razorblade Romance Novels & Stories

I gasp at the stretch. He starts fucking me—long, deep strokes that make my eyes roll back. Then the blade returns, cool metal pressing over my heart. The first cut is sharp. Pain blooms instantly, bright and blinding, mixing with the devastating pleasure of his cock slamming into me. I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. He grunts with every thrust, hips snapping harder as he slowly carves his initial, an R, into my skin right above my heart.

Blair’s stood in front of the bathroom mirror watching Roman shave. She knew by that afternoon he would have a noticeable 3 o’clock shadow. She had loved the feel of his stubbled chin as he had kissed her breasts. Her breasts bore a delicate trace of a faint beard burn. Surprisingly, it didn’t cause her any pain. When she first noticed the marks on her body, a wave of pleasurable memories rushed through her, causing her cheeks to blush. Even now, heat flooded her body.

It was just that Ellen didn't listen and pressed herself closer to Aaric, seeing that, Mila felt herself burning with anger and without thinking, she lunged at Ellen. Trying to tear her face with her razor- sharp nails. This, of course, made Ellen scream hysterically. Fortunately, before Mila could injure Ellen, Aaric quickly stabbed the syringe in his hand into Mila's neck.

The grinding metal sound scraped against my nerves. My eyes widened. "My lady, I'm your husband… Shouldn't we be spending our wedding night together?" A snort of laughter came from the players' table. A muscular man named James Gibson shook his head and said, "Never seen someone this stupid. You walked right into it. The ghost bride needs a human sacrifice, sure. However, she also needs a husband. And any player who becomes her husband gets chopped into pieces. She hates men the most." I had just escaped one death trap and walked straight into another!

Razor yelled and paced faster, his mind a confusion of thoughts and depraved thoughts. “Why don’t you calm down before you play with her?” I purred at him. I sat on a log and exposed my wet glistening cunt to him. “Come inside and release those tension, then you can play with pinky while she hangs on for her dear life.” Razor’s eyes widened and he quickly discarded his trousers before jumping on me. His curved cock plowed into me and he began to fuck me like his life depended on it. “Harder, faster,” I urged lustfully and wrapped my legs around him. His Sulfur Yellow aura was slowly changing with each slamming thrusts of his curved cock to Lavender. His bloodlust was turning into sexual ener

From that moment, Razor had promised two things : Repay Luke by giving his best performance. Get revenge on the bastard that sold him out. An incoming 400 pound log of wood was thrown his way and he shattered it into bits with one punch. That action drew awe and surprise from everyone in the compound as the other recruits looked on with disbelieving eyes. He looked at his bloody fist which was rapidly healing, then looked up to the balcony, giving Luke a confident smile. “Impressive." Luke nodded. Then he turned to Chris who was watching the whole thing with a curious frown.

Razor cried out. “Who’s your boss!?” Nothing. He punched Razor’s face, furious. “I asked who is your boss?” It seemed as if the question triggered something in Razor as he suddenly grew immune to the pain. Razor laughed amidst tears and snorts. “You should try harder” Razor said, “That’s a four year old's punch.” Victor pulled out the knife from Razor’s shoulder then stabbed his hip. “Who’s your boss!?” Nothing. Victor boiled inside, they must have done something to them to make them not talk. He decided to deviate.

There he was, her mate, the one she never expected to see again. Razor climbed out of the stream and onto the bank where Rose stood, frozen in shock. Razor shook off the excess water from his body and crouched down to her level. He nudged her neck with his nose, causing Rose to shudder and whimper, revealing her deep longing for her mate's touch. Razor sensed her inner struggle, but he knew he had to proceed. He needed to know she was OK. He circled her, licking at her tail, her feet, and her tummy searching for wounds. He had to ensure Rose was not injured. When he didn't find any scars, his bones cracked and he changed back into Sylvester.

He had the straight razor from the bathroom. He moved like a blur. He didn't use choreography. He used geometry. He slashed the first mercenary’s throat before the man could clear his holster. Blood sprayed in a hot, red arc across the library books. He didn't stop. He dove under the second man’s fire, the bullets chewing up the leather chairs behind him. Ignatius came up with the razor, burying it in the man’s femoral artery. The mercenary screamed, a high, thin sound that ended in a wet gurgle as Ignatius twisted the blade.

Especially when I think of all the things she might be doing with Reed. Or being worried about her general wellbeing. I admit, I have to remind myself maybe there is a possibility this isn’t a romantic getaway. And he really did threaten her like Zeke and Kristina think. I'm finding it harder to believe. Maybe because I’ve seen them together and they look good. And that pisses me off. “Shit.” I cursed, staring at my bloody finger, which tracks to my face. I fucking cut myself with a razor like a teenager who just hit puberty. Or someone who shaved with a sword.