He traced the very tip of the blade across my cheek, and I didn’t dare move. I remained completely rigid, gulping hard against his hand. Lucas stripped off his vest, the numerous pins affixed to it clicking when he tossed it down on the table. He whipped his belt out of his jeans and they sagged low on his hips, showing off the muscular V that led down from his abs. He came closer, doubling over the belt and snapping it together.

“Put your arms down,” Manson said, his voice low in warning. “Or I make you bleed.”

I lowered my arms to my sides. My heart pulsed against my ribs and my stomach felt hollow as Lucas wrapped the belt around my waist and arms, then secured it behind the chair, pinning my elbows to my sides. Only then did Manson release my throat and took a step back, regarding me thoughtfully.

The butterfly knife flipped open and closed in his fingers, the weapon spinning like a toy. Lucas was behind me, lurking just out of my sight. I could hear his boots pacing slowly across the wood floor.

“Don’t feel like you should give up the fight,” he said, suddenly pulling my head back by my hair so I was forced to look up at him. He gave my cheek a few sharp, stinging pats before he released me. “I like my toys interactive. It’s so much more fun when they scream.”

“You do have the prettiest screams,” Manson said, his voice frighteningly sweet. He came closer, and a whimper of alarm burst out of me as he traced the blade over my breast and tapped the flat of it against one of my pierced nipples.

“Sensitive, aren’t they?” He moved the knife away and pinched the hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger, forcing a shocked gasp from my mouth. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” I grit my teeth, inhaling sharply. “Not sensitive…I don’t…I don’t care…”

The fridge’s ice dispenser turned on behind me, followed by the familiar sound of cubes clinking into a glass. I jumped when Lucas’s fingers brushed the back of my neck, shockingly cold as he swept my hair to the side.

“This ain’t some Mr. Darcy courtship, sweetheart.” Lucas reached over my shoulder, clutching an ice cube in his fingers as Manson stepped back. He trailed it over my skin, cold water dripping onto my thighs. “This is payback.”

He swirled the ice around my nipple and at the same moment his lips pressed against my neck. I jolted, the burning cold almost as shocking as the tenderness of his mouth. Lips and tongue explored my neck, warm and sparking with pain when he nipped me.