Page 3 of Slayin Villain
“Earn it?”I panted, squeezing my legs around his waist.“I already have you, baby.”
He growled like a beast, spun us around, and dropped me on the dresser with a thunk.Bottles clattered.A lamp hit the floor.
His mouth found mine again, hot, rough, claiming.Every drag of his tongue was a promise.Every nip of my lip was a threat.
Villain didn’t undress me.He ripped me out of that fishnet, tearing the fabric like he had a personal grudge against fashion.
“You know how long I’ve been watching you dance in that dress?”he hissed, dragging his hand up my thigh.“Fantasizin’ about choking on your moans while this pretty pussy tightens around me?”
I bit my lip.“You’re all talk.”
He froze.Blue eyes glinting.Dangerous.
Then his fingers slipped inside me.One, then two, then three, and I stopped breathing.
“Still think I’m talkin’?”
I whimpered.“Villain…”
“Say it again,” he ordered, fucking me with his fingers like he had something to prove.“Say my name like it’s the only thing your lips know how to do.”
“Villain,” I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulders.
He dropped to his knees, and drank me in, as if he was worshipping a goddess.
Once I was putty, he took what he needed.On the dresser.On the floor.Bent over the edge of the bed.Then finally, in the bed, tangled in the heat of sweat and swearing, mouths hungry, bodies greedy, like neither of us knew when we’d get another chance.
We had hours.
And we used every minute.
I laid across his bed in nothing but one of his old shirts, sweaty and sore in the best way, watching him light a cigarette.The neon light outside cast red shadows across his face.He looked almost soft in that moment.
Almost.
But like the devil, too.
“You ever think about putting your name on me?”I teased, tracing the ink on his neck with my finger.A pack of wolves howling at the moon.
His gaze cut to mine, slow and deliberate.“All the damn time.”
I blinked.“Yeah?”
He took a long drag.“I’ve been thinkin’… maybe it’s time I gave you a patch.”
My heart did something stupid.“A property patch?”
He nodded once.“You want it?”
I sat up, pulse kicking up.“Thought we didn’t do that.Thought I was your open arrangement.”
“I don’t think I used those words,” he said, smirking.
“You said…” I started.
He finished, “That you need to keep those legs open for me.”
“You said, I was your dirty little whore, one of many.”
