Page 47 of The Villain

But then her soft moan reached my ears like a siren’s call,drawing me and my resolutions deeper into the depths of desire.

Growling low, I wrapped my free hand around her neck and took her mouth savagely. My tongue plunged deep into her mouth, sparring against hers, but she wouldn’t stop moaning. She’d wanted this. She had no idea who I was or what I was, and still she wanted this. I wouldn’t judge her for that, but neither would I pretend to be something I wasn’t.

I wouldn’t pretend to be sweet and considerate and gentle when the reality was I was a man starved of intimacy for almost a decade. An animal. Feral for her. So, this kiss was nothing like the first. This one was a warning. A threat. It marched straight into the promise of punishment that lacked all remorse.

And in return, her kiss back lacked any hesitation.

She clutched the sides of my face like my mouth was her only source of oxygen.

“You’re perfect,” I rasped, and then locked my lips to the corner of her neck, sucking hard as I kneaded her breast. “So fucking perfect.” I was drunk…drugged…unhinged the way my mouth moved lower, hungry for more.

Her hands slid from my face, her slender fingers coiling in my hair, pulling me harder to where her nipple strained for my touch. I pinched and rolled it in my fingers, doing everything I could to keep my mouth away.

But everything wasn’t enough when faced with her breathless, “Please.”

A deep groan split from the seam in my chest as I faced the tub from the outside and moved her so she did the same from the inside. Unseeing, she stared at me as she tipped back, the rosy peaks of her breasts sitting like ripe fruit above the water.

For a second, I let myself stare and stare and…suffer. I grabbed the edge of the tub as a wave of desire crashed through me, the intensity of it threatening to make me black out. When it passed, I let out a tight exhale.

I was going to have a permanent imprint of my zipper in the skin of my cock and punctures to the fabric of my jeans where the metal ends of my piercings broke through. But there was nothing I could do. One touch—even to adjust myself—and I knew I’d come. That was what the woman of my dreams naked in front of me did to a man who’d spent the last eight years in celibacy.

“Dare.”

I closed my eyes, letting the weight of my name on her lips bear down on my shoulders. Later, I’d realize just how much heavier this would make my guilt. But right now, there wasn’t anything in this world or the next that could’ve stopped me from lowering my head to her chest and capturing one perfect nipple between my teeth.

Water splashed over the edge as her body jerked. “Don’t stop.”

Never.

Hands tangled in my hair, holding me tight as I licked and sucked the velvety, firm peak. Her moans and whimpers were like a hail of gunfire falling all around me, and the only way to make it stop was to give her what her body craved.

I circled and flicked my tongue over her nipple, memorizing what each movement did to her. The way it made her move. The sounds it drew from her lips. I reached my hand to her other breast, ready to pleasure it the same, but I never got the chance.

She grabbed my wrist and sank it below the water with all her might. And like the perfect anchor, my fingers plummeted straight to the depths between her thighs.

I growled, my teeth biting into the tender skin of her breast as my fingers spread the soft folds of her pussy.God, I wished the water was gone—drained—so I could feel how wet she was for me.But it was better it wasn’t. The water kept me from her—kept me from mauling her like some rabid beast.

“Yes,” she moaned, squeezing my forearm when I pushed two fingers inside her.

“Is this what you dream of?” I dared to ask, lifting my gaze up her body and taking one breath. And then another.

“More.”

My cock pulsed hard and began to leak.Fuck.

“As you wish.” I captured her other nipple in my lips and set my tongue to the same rhythm as my thumb over the swollen bud of her clit.

She was a siren, and her song of pleasure made me want to drown in her depths. It no longer felt like years since I’d touched a woman, but a lifetime. A lifetime because it was her. Because this wasn’t just mindless pleasure like I thought it would be. Because it meant something—because she had meant something to me once.

She rocked into me, her body asking for what her lips could no longer form.

“I dream of this,” I muttered, her tight heat around my fingers threatening to shred all of my sanity. “Of you needing me. Begging me. Completely vulnerable to my touch.”

After what I’d done to her, the way I still fantasized about her was an unforgivable sin.But her body mocked my guilt, her sex rippling around my fingers as they found the sensitive spot along her front wall.

“Yes,” she moaned, arching into my touch. The soft word sent my own body rocking forward, my groin bumping into the side of the tub.

I hissed in pain, in pleasure, and in insanity. And in that insanity, I reached for my cock without thinking…without remembering it would only make it worse.

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