Page 93 of Once A Villain

He pulls his thumb free, his hand gripping my jaw firmly before his lips crash into mine. The kiss is wild and ravenous, stealing the breath from my lungs as he pins me against the cold tile.

His hand slides to my throat, his tongue claiming mine with a desperate hunger that makes resistance impossible.

I tell myself I can hate him and still want this. But deep down, I know it’s not that simple. I might hate him, but I don’thatehim. There’s a difference, and it terrifies me.

He pulls back from the kiss, his hand still wrapped around my throat.

“I want you to show me how sorry you are,” he growls.

I know exactly what he wants. I want it, too. I want to please him, to let him use me, to feel something—anything—besides this constant swirl of conflicting emotions. He drives me to the brink, makes me want to submit.

I don’t want to. But I do.

So, I drop to my knees. I place my hands on his thighs, slowly sliding them up to his cock. I can play the good girl when it suits me, and right now, I want to be a very good girl.

He lets out a deep moan as my hands wrap around his shaft, his skin smooth and warm. I stroke him slowly, feeling him grow harder in my hands.

His breathing becomes heavier, and his grip tightens in my hair.

With a hand braced against the wall, he leans in, trapping me with his body. I bring my lips to the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue around the sensitive head. I aim to tease, to push his limits and give him a taste of the pleasure he craves.

I want my mouth to be the one he remembers. I want him to crave my touch, to beg and moan until he’s lost in the sensation. And then, when he’s at his peak, I want him to feel the sharp sting of my teeth.

He’s a man who thrives on both pain and pleasure, and I’ll make sure he gets a dose of both.

“Look at me.”

I obey. Our eyes lock, and I watch as he loses himself in the moment. I drag my tongue slowly along the underside of his shaft, savoring the taste, the texture. He bucks his hips, trying to push himself deeper into my mouth.

But I’m not ready yet.

I want him to beg.

I want him to need me.

I keep licking, teasing. His hand grips my hair with increasing urgency, pulling me closer. His moans growing frantic, raw with impatience. I swirl my tongue around his shaft, catching the feral gleam in his eyes.

“Little siren, stop teasing me.”

Our gazes lock, and I inch my mouth towards the head of his cock. His groan is guttural, a primal sound that sends a shiver through me.

“Fucking hell, Rory,” he breathes out, “I’m going to make you pay for this.”

I know he means it, and I can’t wait.

I moan as I take him into my mouth, inch by inch. His head falls back, his grip on my hair tightening. He thrusts his hips, a deep groan escaping him. I know he’ll take what he wants, and I’m eager for him to do just that.

I bob my head, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth. The taste is pure sin, and I crave more. His size challenges me, but I press on, determined to deep-throat him. His patience wears thin; he grips my hair and forces my head down, his cock hitting the back of my throat.

I gag, my eyes watering, and his moans grow louder. He drives me to take all of him, his cock filling my mouth and throat, cutting off my air. I feel the power in his body as he uses me, taking his pleasure from me.

He is ruthless and dominating, his strength overwhelming. He thrusts his hips, fucking my face with no mercy. Tears stream down my face, my eyes blurry.

“Such a good girl. Take all of me, little siren.”

I grip his thighs, trying to steady myself. His pace is relentless, and the lack of oxygen makes me dizzy. He thrusts faster, his moans growing more urgent and primal.

He’s The Reaper and I’m his little siren.

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