crazy ?”
“You tell me, Rachael . You want out of here, you know the safe word.”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” A month ago, I might have mistaken this for panic. But her eyes have the same calculated, primal light in them as when I tied her up. She's not gonna use the word. She's not gonna acknowledge her secrets. But until she does, I can't let her out. Maybe I just have to up the stakes a bit.
“Where'd you get the knife, Rachael? How long have you been able to slit our throats in our sleep?”
She starts crying, the performance of fear getting painfully real. My gut knots harder, and it's all I can do not to throw the knife away and gather her into my arms. “What's wrong with you, Calder? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I know the knife is yours. I know you lied about your name before you fucked me, back in the wide world. And unless you admit that, and tell me why , and why you've lied in here, we're gonna have a problem.” I fight to keep my face still, and let her own emotion fray her. But with each outburst, I become more and more convinced that the motion I'm seeing is only the one she wants me to, not what's there, beneath her skin. She cries, backing up to the wall, shrinking in on herself, but still, her eyes don't leave the blade.
“Talk to me, Rachael, Camilla, whoever you are.”
Her hands tremble, and her chest heaves, and as I take a step forward, she falls to her knees, coughing and retching. I step forward, concern ripping through me, despite myself, and when I'm halfway across the room, she lunges to her feet and dives toward the entryway I left. I seize her midjump, and throw her to the floor, bringing the knife to her throat, and pinning her limbs down with my full weight.
“ You know how to make this stop. You know the safe word. Now, if you don't tell the truth for once in your life, and tell me the safe word , I'm gonna cut you ten ways 'til tomorrow.” I swipe the blade across her midsection lightly, just to let her know I'm serious; she has to believe that I'll really do it, or else this is just a game of chicken. Blood wells from a shallow cut across her formerly pristine stomach.
“ What safe word, Calder? We've never had a safe word.” Tears spill from those beautiful eyes, and she keeps her eyes on mine, but it's obviously not me she's seeing. They're a little too wide, focusing on the center of my forehead to make me think we're eye-to-eye.
“Don't lie to me, Mil,” I plead. The knife at her throat obviously isn't enough. She's gambling everything that that's all I can bring myself to do to her. “I know you can take it rough. And unless you tell me that's not what you want, with the safe word you used the first time we fucked, it's gonna get real rough. You can stop this. All you have to do is say the word.”
“Calder, please, ” she sobs. “You don't have to do this. Please —” Her lips quiver, but her hands are scrabbling on the floor for something she can use to fight me. Maybe she thinks she can entrap the knife in our clothes. I punch her in the face, and shove them away from her grasping hands.
The sound my fist made reverberates in my head, sickening me. Insecurity courses through me that maybe, just maybe, she is innocent, and it's all a horrible misunderstanding.
But I remember the way she looked with that knife half out of her pocket, and the way she looked as she lied about recognizing it.
She's let me into her head, and no matter how she twists, she can't get away with any more lies.
She sobs, struggling to flail, but I've got her pinned forward enough that her legs kick uselessly at the air, only pushing her stomach into my crotch. I can hardly keep my dick hard, keep the threat in place, seeing her tears. But she has the safe word. Whatever this game of wills is, I have to be the one to win. If I lose, I die.
I jerk the shirt back over, and force her hands into one of mine, before wrapping her shirt around them,
“You tell me, Rachael . You want out of here, you know the safe word.”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” A month ago, I might have mistaken this for panic. But her eyes have the same calculated, primal light in them as when I tied her up. She's not gonna use the word. She's not gonna acknowledge her secrets. But until she does, I can't let her out. Maybe I just have to up the stakes a bit.
“Where'd you get the knife, Rachael? How long have you been able to slit our throats in our sleep?”
She starts crying, the performance of fear getting painfully real. My gut knots harder, and it's all I can do not to throw the knife away and gather her into my arms. “What's wrong with you, Calder? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I know the knife is yours. I know you lied about your name before you fucked me, back in the wide world. And unless you admit that, and tell me why , and why you've lied in here, we're gonna have a problem.” I fight to keep my face still, and let her own emotion fray her. But with each outburst, I become more and more convinced that the motion I'm seeing is only the one she wants me to, not what's there, beneath her skin. She cries, backing up to the wall, shrinking in on herself, but still, her eyes don't leave the blade.
“Talk to me, Rachael, Camilla, whoever you are.”
Her hands tremble, and her chest heaves, and as I take a step forward, she falls to her knees, coughing and retching. I step forward, concern ripping through me, despite myself, and when I'm halfway across the room, she lunges to her feet and dives toward the entryway I left. I seize her midjump, and throw her to the floor, bringing the knife to her throat, and pinning her limbs down with my full weight.
“ You know how to make this stop. You know the safe word. Now, if you don't tell the truth for once in your life, and tell me the safe word , I'm gonna cut you ten ways 'til tomorrow.” I swipe the blade across her midsection lightly, just to let her know I'm serious; she has to believe that I'll really do it, or else this is just a game of chicken. Blood wells from a shallow cut across her formerly pristine stomach.
“ What safe word, Calder? We've never had a safe word.” Tears spill from those beautiful eyes, and she keeps her eyes on mine, but it's obviously not me she's seeing. They're a little too wide, focusing on the center of my forehead to make me think we're eye-to-eye.
“Don't lie to me, Mil,” I plead. The knife at her throat obviously isn't enough. She's gambling everything that that's all I can bring myself to do to her. “I know you can take it rough. And unless you tell me that's not what you want, with the safe word you used the first time we fucked, it's gonna get real rough. You can stop this. All you have to do is say the word.”
“Calder, please, ” she sobs. “You don't have to do this. Please —” Her lips quiver, but her hands are scrabbling on the floor for something she can use to fight me. Maybe she thinks she can entrap the knife in our clothes. I punch her in the face, and shove them away from her grasping hands.
The sound my fist made reverberates in my head, sickening me. Insecurity courses through me that maybe, just maybe, she is innocent, and it's all a horrible misunderstanding.
But I remember the way she looked with that knife half out of her pocket, and the way she looked as she lied about recognizing it.
She's let me into her head, and no matter how she twists, she can't get away with any more lies.
She sobs, struggling to flail, but I've got her pinned forward enough that her legs kick uselessly at the air, only pushing her stomach into my crotch. I can hardly keep my dick hard, keep the threat in place, seeing her tears. But she has the safe word. Whatever this game of wills is, I have to be the one to win. If I lose, I die.
I jerk the shirt back over, and force her hands into one of mine, before wrapping her shirt around them,
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