“Where am I going to find that first aid kit?”
I point to the cupboard directly behind him. “Second shelf.”
He grabs it and turns back to me, setting the kit on the counter next to me on one side before looking over at the sink on the other side. Without a word, he kneels in front of me and slips my shoe off my foot. I can’t look away, curious and turned on as I wonder what the hell he’s doing. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife, flipping it open with ease and I suck in breath. If I were smart, I would be terrified right now. I would start screaming for help or kick my foot out and hope it catches him in the face so I can get away but he’s rendered me completely fucking stupid.
No, instead I sit my ass on the counter and watch as he pulls my tights away from my leg and cuts them open all the way up, my skin sparking with the intense desire blanketing us. When he gets above my knee where the tights disappear under my skirt, I put my hand out to stop him and he pulls the knife away
“They’re thigh highs,” I mutter as I pull my skirt up slightly and pull the stocking off. I dangle it out in front of him but his gaze is glued to my bare leg. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips and my eyes almost roll back in my head. Jesus, I think I could cum just from watching him watch me. I clear my throat and he looks up at me.
“Care to tell me why you murdered my tights?”