Lips On The Tip Of A Knife Novels & Stories

It’s time to get this over with. “I think you know,” I whispered, my voice laced with cold determination, as I retrieved a gleaming knife from the depths of my pocket “I think you should watch this next part don’t want you to miss any of the good bits,” I smile menacingly gripping his quivering head firmly, as I peel back his eyelids and slice them off as he screams in pain blood dripping down his face. First the right and then the left.

I found the silver knife and held it against her lips. "I'm going to start here," I told her, and she made a noise of panic. This made me smile wider. I saw a hint of panic in her good eye, which was a mere slit and slowly starting to swell as well. "I'll allow you to scream and beg for mercy, but you're going to get none," I said, playfully pressing the tip of my knife against her lower lip. She made a last effort to fight me by throwing a punch at my face, but it did nothing to me. I growled and tugged her lower lip out before starting to cut it. She screamed under me, but I didn't stop until it was gone entirely.

, Then he takes blood from the knife wound on my side and licks it before rubbing it on his skin. "You disgusting shit!" He ignores me again but he takes more blood from himself and holds his finger to my lips. He can't be trying to do what I'm thinking, right? No fucking way in hell! "Open your pretty mouth Chiara. If you even attempt to use your teeth, I will fuck you with this knife". My body stilled as I tried to imagine him doing just that. I will die a very painful death. He pressed his finger to my lips and I shake my head.

He didn’t respond, just stared, his lips parting in some kind of dazed surrender. And then he leaned in, lips brushing against mine, the contact so brief, it was almost a whisper. But in the same instant, my grip on the knife tightened, the blade biting deeper into his skin. Warm, slick blood coated my fingers, forcing me to jerk back. The heat, the scent—it was too intimate, too close.

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?"

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.

I cried in pleasure as he kept finger fucking me through it all paying no heed to my messy moans. He spun me around so I was facing the table and he picks the butter knife on the table and brings it closer to my face as my eyes bulged. Would he kill me? He licks the blunt part of the knife and flattens it across my skin as the cold steel makes my skin tingle with his saliva.

I continued, the bitterness seeping into my voice, "I'm dreadfully inept at practicing it." I noticed the signs of fear reflecting in his eyes, a sight that strangely satisfied my intentions. Making my way to the table, I finally settled on a choice—a black, short knife, perfectly suited for piercing and stabbing. Returning to the man, I found Anthony positioned before him, not aiming for his heart but instead staking his hands, eliciting a pained cry from the restrained figure.

He looked at her and saw her moistened eyes peering at him. Clutching that knife, he brought it closer to her. Flora found him grazing the tip of that blood stained knife against the corner of her mouth. “My pretty princesa, you might have learnt from your father how to fight but ….” He paused and slowly and carefully grazed the tip of the knife down. Flora felt him brushing the knife's tip all over her skin. From her neck to down her cleavage but the knife didn't dare to get pierced inside her skin in any way as he made sure about it.

and took away the other. I examined the weapon with a frown. A long, thin knife, but astonishing enough, both its edges were duller than the first one except the sharp, pointy tip. I didn't quite like it. "Why this one? Are you afraid the others would hurt you?" I smirked. His lips drew back in amusement, and I thought for a second I saw him rolling his eyes. "It won't hurt you." I glanced down at the knife, realizing my stupidity. Because of its dull edges this couldn't hurt me even if I went complete reckless. But the pointy tip; if I ended up penetrating him by any unsought chance, he'd definitely be hurt.