AUTHOR NOTE: It came to my attention while posting this chapter that all of the last chapter did not post. So you might want to re-read the previous chapter before reading this one as several of the last paragraphs were not posted.
He pulled the knife from where he kept it on is belt and using his own legs to hold hers down cut up the center of her tank top. She kicked her legs and tried her best to buck him off of her but he was heavier.
"It doesn't have to be this way Lacy."
"I won't tell you! I wont!" She screamed.
He shook his head and flicked the lighter, he let it burn for a few moments before speaking to her again.
"Where is King."
"I won't tell you."
He let the lighter burn out before pressing the hot metal into her skin just below her bra. Instantly the smell of burned flesh and the sound of skin blistering was present. She let out a sharp gasp, arching off the bed and struggling against him.
He pulled away and she fell back against the bed, out of breath and seeming exhausted. She looked up at him with an expression that wasn't readable.
"Just tell me what I want to know," He said softly.
"No."
She watched him, her skin was already blistering from the burn but she knew he was holding back. His bag held weapons that could snap bones and peel skin and yet he was resorting to lighters with her.
He rolled briefly off of her, his hands going for her pants. She tried to squirm away but he held her down and quickly pulled off her sweatpants. Her panties were traditional brief style and black, matching her bra and he felt his pants tighten slightly.
Convincing himself she was just another body and it didn't matter how shapely she was, or how creamy her pale skin was he pinned her down again, relighting the flame in his lighter.
"Tell me where King is."
"No," She said with a heavy sigh.
He lit the lighter and hesitated only a minute before pressing it against her skin, just above her hip.
She let out a small cry that he realized didn't exactly sound painful and arched off the bed. Her hips brushing against some private parts of anatomy and only making his current condition worse. He ground his teeth hard enough it hurt.
He took a minute to really look at her, her pale skin, gentle curves, the fading bruises from their last encounter. He pulled the lighter from her skin and she let out a soft mewling sound but didn't relax this time. Instead, she pulled her legs free from under him and wrapped them around his waist.
She pulled his body closer to hers, her hips meeting his and his hand fell to her waist. Squeezing tight enough he was sure he would leave hand prints, he wasn't sure if he was trying to stop her or encourage her.
He lit the lighter again, not letting it burn as long this time before pressing it once more to her skin. This time choosing a spot on her thigh, just below her panties. She let out a small gasp and bucked her hips into his and he was lost.
He tossed the lighter aside and grabbed her arms, pulling her up until she was sitting on his lap and could loop her bound arms around his neck. With her lower body pressed so intimately against his there was no point in denying how badly he wanted her, so he didn't.
He caught her lips with his in a rough, hardened kiss that she more than responded to. Pressing herself tighter to him and rubbing her hips against his. He began to lose himself in the sensation of her soft skin under his roughened fingertips and her body pressing to his. His hand slid up her back to the nape of her neck, his other hand squeezing her hip.
Realizing that she could be faking, that it could all be an act to get him to let his guard down he tensed and pulled his lips from hers.
"Don't.....don't do this to me," he begged, not caring that he'd just lost control of the situation.
"Do what?" She asked breathlessly.
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not, I'm not." She said claiming his lips again.
He gave in, this time going forward onto the bed so he could pin her beneath him. Her arms were still tightly bound and draped around his neck, her legs locked around him like a vice.
He struggled out of his jacket and realized he had to unloop her arms in order to pull of his shirt. He gently pulled her arms from around his neck ignoring her whimper of protest when he lifted his body off of hers to toss his shirt aside.
She sat back up trailing her hands up his chest and then down to his belt and fumbling with the buckle, her bound hands making the job impossible. He shoved her hands away and took to the task himself, freeing his belt and shedding his pants.
He tumbled with her back onto the bed, her legs pulling him closer and her hands worshipping every inch of his skin they could touch. He took to dropping heated kisses on her shoulder, down both arms, across her chest and anywhere else there was exposed skin.
He fumbled for his knife and using the razor sharp blade slid it up the center of her breasts, cutting her bra free. He went for her wrists and she pulled them away.
"Leave them," She said, her voice heavy and breathless.
He tossed the knife aside, obeying her subtle command. If she wanted it rough that's how it would be. He wasn't very good at being gentle anyway, he was well endowed below the waist and sent up a silent prayer that she would be able to take it. He'd had women refuse him before and if it happened now he wasn't sure he could stand it.
Her bound hands slid under the waistband of his boxers and, he buried his head in her neck. He sank his teeth roughly into her shoulder and she tipped her head back exposing even more of her slender neck.
Unable to wait a single, solitary moment longer he stripped off her panties and his boxers. Finally taking what he had wanted for so very long.
Nearly an hour later he finally fell on top of too exhausted to move, once they'd began discovering each other in this new way it'd become nothing short of a game. Each pushing the other to see how much they could take, testing the limits between pain and pleasure.
It was rough and animalistic, not anywhere close to making love but it was exactly what they both needed. His body ached in the most sinfully delicious ways, his back covered in long deep scratches, his chest and neck covered in teeth marks that would no doubt take weeks to heal.
He was sure Lacy was just as sore as he was, if not more. He gently slid from her body, trying to be gentle as he rolled off of her and onto his side next to her. He noticed her subtle wince when she brought her legs together and rolled onto her side to face him.
His hand went to the knife on the bed next to him and with a swift motion he cut the tape that bound her wrists together and gently peeled it from her skin. She offered him a small smile, but was growing sleepy.
"Do you let King touch you like this?" He asked, trailing his fingers lightly down her stomach.
"No."
He wanted to touch her more, he wanted to pin her against the wall and take her again. Wanted to pound into her until she couldn't walk and his name was the only sound she could make but he didn't. Instead he covered them both with the heavy blanket that had been pushed off the bed.
"How long have you been working with him?"
"Longer than you think."
"Why? Lacy?"
"When I was younger my favorite story was about the scorpion and the Frog. It's so dark and twisted for a kids story but I didn't care. My dad always used to say, there are two kinds of people Lacy. Scorpions and Frogs."
"I don't think I'm following you," He said.
"Did you ever hear it?" She asked.
He shook his head.
"A scorpion needs to cross a creek but he can't obviously, he see a frog and he asks the frog to let him ride on his back. The frog says no, you'll sting me. The scorpion says no I won't I can't swim, why would I kill myself? So, the frog agrees. Halfway across the scorpion stings the frog and the frog says, why would you do that? Now we're both going to die. The scorpion says "I can't help it, I'm a scorpion."
"That is kind of dark," he admitted.
"My dad always said there are two kinds of people Lacy, scorpions and frogs. Unfortunately, I'm a scorpion. I can't help it," She shrugged.
She closed her eyes with a soft sigh and he fell silent, watching her worn out body succumb to sleep. He reached over and gently ran his fingers over the bruise on her thigh.
"So we're both going to die then," He said softly.