Page 70 of The Villain

And I didn’t want him to.

I flicked my tongue along his length, enjoying the soft curses it ripped from his lips.

“But you look so beautiful. God, I’ve never seen anything this beautiful.” He spoke like he knew I needed to hear him. “The way your lips are stretched around me. You’re drooling like such a good girl.”

I held tight while he used my mouth like a man undone. I took and took and took everything he was willing to give, feeling my own pleasure swell like a wave of fire between my legs.

“Fuck,” he rasped, the husk of his voice reaching between my thighs. “This is going to end me. Is that what you wanted? To kill me with your lips?”

I moaned, and the sound tightened my throat around him.

“Fuck.”He jerked free.

I gasped in a breath, searching the darkness for him as I murmured, “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Not even close,” he swore, his fingers framing my chin,his thumb running back and forth over my swollen, tingly bottom lip. “I want to have my fingers buried inside you. My tongue. My cock. I want to put every piece of me inside you like you can make me whole again.”

I shivered. “Yes.”

“But you can’t,” he warned. “You think I’m a good man. I’m not. I’ve dreamed about your breasts since the other night. The way they hung heavy in front of you when you fell. How red the hot water made your nipples.” He let out a harsh laugh. “The water and soap didn’t hide them from me, did you know that? I looked my fucking fill as I fingered you?—”

“I didn’t know,” I interrupted boldly. “But I hoped.”

“Dammit, Athena…”

“I won’t hate you,” I pressed. “I know you want me to. I know you want everyone to so you feel justified in hating yourself, but I won’t. I refuse.”

“I could make you hate me,” he rumbled, and then he pressed his tip back to my lips.

My tongue darted out to catch a taste before he was gone. “You could try.”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Touch yourself like I did the other night. Make that sweet little pussy of yours come like a good girl.”

I didn’t need more encouragement for my hand to reach between my legs and find the aching bud of my clit.

Stars exploded as I rubbed myself. I was so turned on by the way he ravaged my mouth that I couldn’t come without any touch. But I wanted to please him. God, I wanted to please him.

“Please, Dare,” I begged, my body spiraling higher.

“Such a good girl, my angel.” His thumb pressed on my bottom lip, forcing my teeth to release it. “So good…too good…the second I’m back in your mouth, I’m going to come.” Between his words, I heard the steady drag of his hand along his length, simultaneously giving himself some relief while holding himself at bay.

“Yes,” I murmured, my toes curling against the dirt.

“That’s it…get there so I can fuck your beautiful face.”

I gasped as my orgasm ripped through me like I’d stepped on a landmine. My body tightened and exploded in violent pleasure, but the scream that welled in the center of my chest never made it free.

His cock pushed through my rounded lips all the way to the back of my throat, spearing my scream with the point of his promise.

My moans, my gasps for air, they all crumbled around the invasion of his cock. Thrust after thrust after thrust, his piercings marked their very own path to the back of my throat. And then, above the sparkling pleasure of my release and the feral feel of him in my mouth, I heard him—the roar of a man slain.

Or perhaps the roar of a man rising from the dead.

The sound barreled out around us as he came deep in my throat, my tongue trying to swallow down the thick heat of his release. There was too much of it—or too much of him in my mouth—that everything overflowed, leaking from the corners of my lips and running down my chin.

“Fuck.” He let off the pressure, air instantly filling deep into my lungs. I’d forgotten the essential nature of breathing until he’d slid his length from my mouth, and I sputtered for breath.

Resting back on my heels, my body fought to stabilize itself, but my mind only searched for him. The taste of him on my tongue. The scent of him was still pinned to my nostrils. And the sound of him—his rough breaths and the slick sound of fleshon flesh.

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