Clarissa Wild

“Fuck you,” she growls.

“Oh, I will fuck you, all right,” he says, and his tongue dips out to lick the rim of my ear. “And you will definitely moan when I bore my way through that wet little pussy of yours.”

You’ve been dying for someone to come and take control of your wicked desires, haven’t you?” he murmurs, hovering close. Too close.

“Fuck you. You don’t know me,” I bite.

“By the time I finish with you …” He rips the knife out of the wall. “I will know…” He slides the knife down my chest and breasts to my hips. “Every…” He pushes the hilt between my thighs and nudges it against my clit until it thumps with greed. “Inch …” Suddenly, he thrusts the knife's handle into me. “Of your body.”

And for a second, I can’t even do anything but feel, wondering if she can feel me too in her dreams, if she’s thought of me the way I’ve thought of her. Because this little killer kitty has invaded every corner of my mind