Lips On The Tip Of A Knife Novels & Stories

"It's got to come out. Find something to bite on. This is going to hurt. Who's got the knife?" James hands it over then unbuckles his belt. Folding it double, he offers it to my mouth. Klempner retrieves the hip flask from his pocket, splashing what smells like whiskey over the blade. With a kind of horrified fascination, I watch as he brings the knife close. His eyes rise to mine. "You might find this easier if you looked away." I'm letting a mass murderer at me with a knife that would take out an elephant... But I don't look away.

“Close.” I followed his orders and felt a weird cold metal inside of it. It was the knife. “If you drop the knife, while I eat you out, I’m not letting you come,” he warned as if he hadn’t made me come a few times already tonight. But I just nodded and submitted. In the next second, his tongue found itself on top of my clit, and he flicked it. I shuddered and squeezed the knife in my mouth. I felt the sharp edges of the blade and the coldness it emitted.

"You planned it all? Too bad your brain couldn't plan for this." Before he could blink, in one quick motion, the blade in the air left my fingers like a whisper of death. It sliced through the side of his cheek-clean, sharp, leaving a trail of blood like a red warning. He flinched, hands instinctively rising to his face before the knife embedded itself straight between the eyes of the guard behind him . The body dropped with a thud . The silence that followed was heavy. Deadly. I turned my back on him without fear. But Klaus's voice rang out immediately, sharp as gunfire.

I leaned closer, my breath ghosting over her cupid's bow, so close to her lips that I could taste her exhale. "Without hesitation." My gaze flicked from her wide, curious eyes to the small space between our mouths. If I just leaned in a little more, I'd capture her lips and feel the sweetness of her kiss. But before I could close the gap, she applied a little more pressure to the knife, its cold edge sinking deeper into my skin. I felt the sting of it, sharp and immediate, a reminder of the precariousness of our situation. I hissed softly through my teeth, the pain exhilarating, waking something primal inside me.

A knife—slim, sharp, and glinting in the light of the lobby. "Let's end it here," she whispered. And then she lunged.

Infront of me , on my lap , five throwing knives lay on the rough material being held in place by little rubber bands attached to the fabric . My eyes lit up when I seen the colour . They were turquoise. A big smile instantly appeared on my face as I admired the knives , that each one , slowly got smaller as my eyes ran across them . I touched the edge of the knife , getting a little paper cut . The knives were really sharp , and I could see symbol on the knives . It was an Ace symbol . It was small and simplistic but I really liked it.

It was only a matter of time before we would once again give in. I licked my lips, never taking my gaze off his. “Have I not pleased you…sir?” His lips pulled up in an amused grin. “You still have lots to learn my little pet. But lucky for you, I’m one patient man.” Slowly he dragged the edge of the knife from my lips, over my chin, down my neck. I leaned my head back, offering him more of me, placing my life in his hands. He pressed down, and the tip of the knife pricked my skin over the hollow below my throat.

Focused on dealing with the pain, I chew on my lower lip. A new sound breaks the silence, but I can't identify what it is until I feel cold steel against my cheek. Then he cuts the blindfold off with a sharp knife. Holding my breath, I try to focus on the knife, staring at it; the bright shimmer from the blade when it catches the candlelight.

When they do, my eyes snap open, and I glare at him. “Why the fuc—” He taps the handle of the knife on my mouth, effectively cutting me off. The rest of my words dissipate as he slides the knife across my lips as if he’s painting them with lipstick. “Suck,” he orders, his tone deepening with finality. Closing my eyes against more tears, I open my mouth and let him guide the knife between my teeth. I squeeze my lids tighter as I twirl my tongue over the cold metal, cringing from the nasty feel.

I retrieved the silver knife from the snow and brought it to her mouth. “I think I’ll start right here,” I whispered coldly. Panic rose in her good eye. That flicker of fear brought a smile to my face. “Go ahead. Scream. Cry. Beg me if you want.” I gently touched the blade to her lower lip. “It won’t help you one bit.” She threw a last, feeble punch at my face, but it barely connected. I responded with a growl, yanked her lower lip outward, and began slicing through it. Her screams pierced the air, but I didn’t stop until the entire lip was gone.