Page 12 of Once A Villain

Her jaw tightens, her fists clenching at her sides. “What do you want?”

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a measuring tape. The flinch that crosses her face is almost too satisfying. I slip the tape around her neck, pulling it tight enough to press against her delicate skin.

“I need the size for your vow-bound collar.”

“I’m not wearing a goddamn collar,” she snaps, shoving her hands against my chest. I press harder, pinning her between the wall and my body. Her breath hitches, her pulse quickening under my touch.

She’s terrified.

Good.

Before I can savor her fear, her knee crashes into my balls.

“Fuck!” I grunt at the sharp pain radiating through my body. I regain my composure and grip her throat—tightly. Slamming her against the wall, I watch as her hands claw desperately at my fingers. “Wrong move, Rory,” I growl, squeezing her throat. “You will learn to obey, or you will learn to suffer.”

Her eyes blaze with a mix of anger and fear. She’s strong-willed; I’ll give her that. But she has no idea what’s coming. I release her, and her hands fly to her throat, coughing and gasping for air.

“Now,” I say coldly, closing the space between us again, “let’s try that one more time.”

I pin her against the wall with my body, my hand grazing her soft skin, and she shudders, tensing under the pressure. She squirms, trying to break free, but I hold her tightly. She’s no match for my strength. Being so close, I catch a hint of her perfume, a mixture of flowers and vanilla.

Fuck, she smells good.

I let my hand linger on her soft skin, savoring the warmth, then I draw the tape slowly around her neck, enjoying the feel of her trembling skin and the tautness of her body against mine. Every second of this is a twisted pleasure.

“Get off me!” she screams, her voice hoarse.

“Shut the fuck up, or you won’t have a voice to use ever again.” I press closer, letting her feel my hard cock. Short, panicked breaths escape her lips, her chest rising and falling erratically.

Her pulse thrums violently beneath my fingers. When I finally get the necessary measurements, I retract the tape and slip it into my pocket.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I taunt, gripping her tight little waist, digging my fingers in with purposeful pressure. She stiffens further, her body rigid under my touch. I revel in her fear, her panic, her utter helplessness.

The faint click of a gun and the cold barrel pressing against the base of my skull interrupts the moment.

“Get your fucking hands off my sister.”

“Easy, Valentine,” I say, releasing Rory and turning slowly to face Spencer. “Wouldn’t want your funeral to ruin the wedding celebration.”

Spencer is furious, aiming his gun directly at my head. He’s a spitting image of his father, and it makes me sick.

“Rory, get out of here,” he barks.

She bolts, the door slamming behind her.

I waste no time. With a swift motion, I disarm Spencer, sending the gun skidding across the floor. My hand wraps around his throat, and I slam him against the wall, my forearm pressing into his windpipe. He’s no match for me; very few are.

“Next time you point a gun at me, make sure you pull the fucking trigger,” I snarl. His face flushes deep red as he gasps, struggling to pry my arm off. “You got that, pretty boy?”

“Fuck…you,” he chokes out.

I smirk, a cold, ruthless grin. “Oh, I’ll be fucking something.”

I release him, and he collapses to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

“Why are you doing this, Axe? She’s nothing to you,” he manages between ragged breaths.

“Your old man knew the risks when he handed me a Bond. Maybe he should’ve been smarter about the people he deals with.” I stride toward the door, glancing over my shoulder. “See you at the wedding.”

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