Scourge

Twenty three

"No lover leaves a rose garden without blood on their hands."

~Mitch Nihilist

***

Emerson.

"How the hell do I look better tied up?" I laugh nervously. My eyes flit across the room but inevitably land on the man looking down at me like I'm his prey.

It's the fact that he's looking at me like a predator that has the hairs on the back of my neck raise with alarm and I begin to struggle on the chair. I grunt with effort, fighting against the rope that doesn't relent at all.

Resigned, I stop moving. I'm panting when I look back up to the man in front of me.

He regards me in silence, and in his eyes was a whole storm brewing that almost terrified me.

He was staring at my chest shamelessly, and I realised that with my hands tied behind the chair I might as well be serving him my tits on a silver platter.

Rope was wrapped around my midsection as well, pushing my boobs higher for Mikhail's appreciation.

A strong wave of mortification began to wash over me with each inch his gaze travelled lower. Second by second, I began to realise how bared I am to him. My legs were tied to each post of the chair, and due to my struggling, my dress was bunched up high on my thighs- giving him the perfect view of the area in-between.

Mikhail finally drags his eyes up, landing on my flushed face. His brows furrow ever so slightly, a look of sympathy he sends my way.

But by now, I know better than to fall into that trap of faux sympathy.

He crouches in front of me, face level with mine and I bite the inside of my cheek when his heavy palm rests on my throat.

My mouth parts, breaths turn even more ragged when his hand slowly drags down my skin until he reaches the neckline of my shirt.

"I forgot you can't see from my perspective," He murmurs, fisting the material, "No wonder you don't know how stunning you look like this. Tits pushed out, begging to be sucked by me," He paws at my neckline, pulling it down to reveal my bra covered chest.

I forgot I had my knife hidden in my bra.

Mikhail glanced questioningly at the knife and I shrugged.

"Easy access."

Amusement washed over his features and he subtly shook his head with disbelief as he pulled the knife slowly out of my bra before letting it clatter onto the floor.

"Little minx," He growled. Then a millisecond later, I feel something hot and warm on the swell of my left breast.

His tongue.

He licks and nips at whatever flesh isn't covered by my bra, doing the same to my other breast. He pulls away and shuffles a bit. Already missing his warmth, I bring my head up and see him adjusting himself so that he's kneeling in front of me.

Mikhail runs his hand down his face, a low, "Fuck me," leaves his mouth whilst he yanks at his tie and rolls his sleeves up.

I hear every pulse in my ear and feel each breath going in and coming out of my lungs when he moves to yank my bra down.

My gasp reverberates around the room, joining Mikhail's harsh breaths as he stares at my boobs like he's never seen them before.

Then he moves in. He doesn't kiss them. He doesn't lick them. He doesn't suck them.

He bites. Hard.

All my efforts of keeping my sounds to myself are thrown away as soon as he latches on. Sharp pain shoots down my spine along with a strange warmth that makes me buckle against the ropes. The chair moves back slightly, and without taking his mouth off me, Mikhail grabs onto my tied legs and pulls the chair back to its respective place. He doesn't let go of my legs, completely forbidding me to escape his assault on my nipples.