Lips On The Tips Of A Knife Novels & Stories

“You are holding your knife all wrong, though. You want a forward grip, with the knife handle rotated along the axis of your forearm, so that the edge faces up, not down.” Anya modified her hold on the practice knife as per Liliya’s instructions. “Like this?” Liliya smiled the tiniest bit with translucent silver lips and gave a stern nod. “Exactly.” They engaged in blows and recoils again, trading strike for strike, each dodging like a hart avoiding an arrow, trying to find the others' weakness. Anya feigned an attack and Liliya went on the defensive. Anya took advantage of Liliya's reaction, thrust her rubber blade into Liliya's silver breast, and twisted. The practice knife's tip wed

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

Mike realized that he had been staring a the knife for some time. "Yeah." Wrapping his fingers around the hilt, he gave it an experimental tug, expecting some resistance. The blade slid free, its dark edges glinting dangerously in the light. Holding the knife, he realized he had nowhere to put it. Shoving it casually in a pocket would end in disaster at best, and Mike didn't want to trip and impale himself.

“It is no fun if you don’t scream my dear.” When he pulled out the dagger again, gradually he raised his hand and slid the base of the blade over his tongue, dragging it over the blood that coated it. I wanted to hurl in revulsion. The look in his eyes was demented like he had lost his mind, or whatever had been left of it. When he removed the blade, he licked his lips and swiftly plunged the blade just under my collar bone on the left side.

Luckily I am human or the knife would poison my blood. "Let me help," Thumas offers while hastily taking the knife from my hands. I winch as he makes a tiny cut across the tip of my forefinger and a little blood oozes out. It's surprisingly red in colour like normal blood. I cannot spot anything special about it. It would be really embarrassing if I put it in Lior's mouth and nothing changes.

Her fingers traced the edges of a small, sharp knife she had placed on her desk. And in that dim light, her eyes gleamed with a manic intensity, filled with thoughts only she could understand. She lifted the knife, holding it to her lips like a secret, and whispered, "They won't see me coming. None of them will." The candle flame flickers again, nearly going out. And then the room was plunged into darkness.

I bit down on my lip when I saw something glinting in the light. A dagger. Despite the fear spreading through my body like cancer, I cautiously slid myself off the bed, careful not to make any noise. Her head snapped in my direction the moment my feet touched the floor. Her grin widened. She was the picture of viciousness and cruelty. She turned around, holding up the dagger in front of her face. She brought the sharp blade close to her lips, her tongue snaked out and she flicked the tip of her tongue over the sharp blade. My eyes were wide as I watched her, my face set into a grimace. Blood appeared on her tongue, drop after drop. She flicked her tongue over her lips and grinned at me, her

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 picked the butter knife on the table and brought 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.

Pursing my lips and biting my bottom lip lightly, I pull at rawhide stripe, tugging at it till it comes loose. Then I open the box, my eyes lighting up instantly when I see what's inside. Inside the box, wrapped in a brown wool, is a knife. A real knife, not a wooden one like I used for practice. Reaching my right hand to it, I pull the knife out of the box, running my gaze over blade's edges. It's narrow, and short yet a little bit long. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it feels perfect... Gently, I wave the blade, testing my grip on it just like Fenric showed me at the training yard.