He advances on you and you back up as he does so, finding yourself trapped against the back of a couch. Now there’s no place you can run that he can’t reach you. He grabs your shirt and uses it to pull you close, making you gasp.
He takes the fabric that he holds and cuts it off, throwing a piece of it to the ground. Then he grabs your collar and slices through that, and shoves the remains of your shirt roughly down. He pulls your b*a straps out and cuts through them, one by one, so that your whole chest is exposed. Then he leans in and sets the knife – which you now know is sharp – to your throat.
“Tell me you want me to f**k you – or say red.”
Inside his suit his c**k is rock hard against your thigh, and you’re spinning again like you were just before, endorphins and breathing too muc
