Contrasts

This morning.  In the kitchen.  He's on his way out the door and gives me a tender hug.  He strokes my face and tells me he loves me.  He picks up a knife from the dish drainer and presses it to my throat.   No reason, just because he can.   I instantly turn from sleepy and tender to slightly afraid and very aroused.  He tells me to orgasm, right there, standing in the kitchen and I do. He's holding me up with one arm.  He lets go of me, picks up his lunch and heads out.