Novel & Cerita Lips On The Tip Of A Knife

Then I took the dagger by its tip using my index and middle finger. I flew in the air and twirled a few times, before I slowly landed on the floor and threw the dagger on the table. The tip stuck right in the middle, just like a dart hitting the bullseye. Then I drank the remaining wine in my cup and sat back down on my seat. I dusted my hands and looked at Lord Beike, touching his chin where a portion of his white beard was missing. “Oh sorry, Lord Beike. I missed a few spots and only managed to shave your right chin. Do you want me to help you with your left chin?”

My nipples rapidly tighten into hard tingling points, and I fervently wished he would reach out to play with one of them just to relieve the aching a bit. Jack scooted to the edge of the bench until I was positioned right between his legs. Then snapped his hard thighs closed so I was unable to move back or forwards as he finally revealed the thing in his hand. It was a large sliver flip blade pocketknife and with one smooth motion, he flipped it open. He kept his eyes glued on my face watching it closely for signs of pain. I sucked in a breath, as a sense of panic began to rise as I watch him check the sharpness of the blade before leaning forward and laying it flat on my thigh.

"Just don't look. Close your eyes and imagine beautiful things. Don't think about the knife, just play with your imagination." I did what he advised. I closed my eyes but all I could think of was the knife that would strike my heart anytime now. My chest was thumping so loud; I wasn't ready for this. I would never be ready for this. I held my breath, waiting for the blade to plunge into my body but what I felt was his soft lips touching mine. My nerves tingled as electricity travelled through my skin.

I came to stand right beside him and felt that familiar pull, but quickly brushed it aside as I looked down at what he was busy with, “Do you know how to use one of these?” He said gesturing at a sharp knife, raising an eyebrow at him I smiled as I smirked, “I think I can manage,” I said as I went to take the knife from his hand, his fingers brushed up against mine and I gasped as sparks go right through my body, swallowing hard I quickly let go of the knife as I looked up at him, my mouth slightly open with heavy breathing as I just stared into his eyes.

Her resistance is part of her sexual make up. She closes her eyes and I kiss her cheek with a gentle swipe of lips. The knife is dull but half the fun is her not knowing that. I lift her breast in my left hand and pull the skin tight with my thumb before sliding the edge of the knife between the wax and her flesh. She doesn't move, but her eyes open and she stares at the knife as it slides across her skin. Slowly wax curls beneath the blade and falls away.

Rima's right hand was moving stealthily, reaching towards the small of her back, hidden by the casual drape of her jeans. Meanwhile, her left hand was ascending, fingers tracing a path up to George's neck, the intensity of her touch making him oblivious to her other actions. I watched through heavy-lidded eyes, each blink feeling like a Herculean task, as she discreetly pulled out a small, concealed knife.

He takes a step closer, looming over me, a faint smirk on his lips as his eyes slide over me. He sheathes his knife behind his back before his hand reaches for me. I shiver as he reaches down, tracing a slow, possessive line along my jaw, his thumb grazing over my lips, pulling them open slightly, his gaze intent as he studies the way my breath catches and sees the subtle tremor I can't suppress.

A video popped up from an unknown address, and she frowned as she took the phone. She tapped to play the video. On the screen, Tristan stood before the camera, his smile looking unnervingly pale. Behind him, two figures were bound to chairs, their bodies exposed. It was Delilah and Marvin. In front of him was a phone that was live-streaming the scene. He held a sharp dagger in his hand and walked toward Delilah, peeling the tape off her mouth. With extreme fear, Delilah shook her head vigorously as she pleaded, "Tristan, it's me, Lila! What are you…"

“I’ve never seen a knife that thin before.” He gave her a dark look before looking at the knife again. “You wouldn’t,” wrapping the knife in the hankie and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s a demon's fang. A knife made from demon’s fangs.” He wrapped his arm around her when he saw the surprised look on her face. “They do it to themselves, bringing more of a death blow to their prey.” He looked around for a moment, “It proves the theory that there was a territory war. But who is fighting who?”

It hung dangerously over the edge, perfectly within Lila's sister's reach and seemed to almost begging to be grabbed by the blade, judging from the light that glinted off of it, adding some sort of mystical quality of charm and allure to the thing that could end lives without nary a care. There was a deep scratch mark, gouging out the tables edge on the path towards the knife, with the beginning point of the indent looking the deepest of it all, the line gradually becoming shallower and shallower until it was invisible, and leading to where the knife had dropped. A few drops of dark red blood sat at the side, and looking even closer, Lila could see a thin coating of crimson liquid that lined