Page 10 of The Villain
He tightened his arm around her, the hand at her back now moving up to clutch her neck. He stilled her movements and forced her to look at him, his hooded gaze deceptively calm. Beneath the limpid stare, she saw the depravity simmering in the depths—the hunger of a predator prepared to maul and devour its prey.
“Shh,” he murmured. “Fighting will not cool my ardor, little dove. In fact, it will only stoke it. Is that what you want?”
Trembling in his hold, she shook her head. Of course he would enjoy the hunt, the chase, and the inevitable surrender. No monster wanted to pursue a victim that lay limp and accepted its fate. Perhaps that would be her salvation—passively accepting his attentions instead of fighting against them. If she could cause him to grow bored with her, she might escape this ordeal unscathed. She certainly was not worldly enough to raise any other sort of defense. Cursing her inexperience, she wished she knew what to do, what to say to gain firmer footing with him.
“I will undress you now, and you will let me,” he said, his voice low but his tone firm. “Yes?”
Taking a deep breath, she released it on a shaky exhale. What else could she do but allow it?
“Yes.”
Going back to her buttons, he smirked. “Good girl.”
She avoided his gaze, staring off across the room as he worked his way down her spine, steadily slipping the buttons free and causing her dress to slacken until it slipped off her shoulders. The warmth of the fire caressed her bare back, but she avoided thinking about it—or about the fact that only his body mashed tightly against hers kept the gown from falling away and baring her completely. She tried to distance herself from him entirely, to become nothing more than a piece of flesh for him to manipulate—not a living, breathing woman who could be hurt on a whim.
Keeping her pressed up against him, he lowered her, allowing her body to drag against his in a slow caress. The fabric of his wool coat rasped her nipples through the velvet of her gown, and his cock brushed against her stomach. Heat flamed in her cheeks at the feel of his masculine organ, hard and pulsating against her.
“You will not try to run or claw my eyes out when I release you, will you?” he teased with a glance at the gown still held up over her breasts.
It would seem he did not intend toallowher the distance she needed to survive this encounter. Very well, then. She would do what she’d intended from the moment she’d agreed to this preposterous arrangement … she would face him, confront him, meet his challenge by showing him that she would not be so easily fazed.
Still avoiding his gaze, she kept her lips pressed together as she took a step away from him—not far enough that he mistook the movement as evasive, but just enough that the gown sagged down to her waist. With her forearms still trapped inside the long sleeves, her breasts and belly now lay bare to his view, the gown resting at her hips.
Only Adam’s eyes reacted to her state of half-nudity, the dark pupils dilating and the golden flecks dancing with the green. Goosebumps rippled along her skin as his gaze skimmed her naked breasts and traveled over the plane of her stomach. Reaching out with one hand, he fisted the front of the gown and gave it a rough jerk, leaving it in a pile at her feet. She flinched, but held her ground as he stood back, studying her with an almost clinical sort of detachment.
The mystery of what he might be thinking as he traced the curves of her waist and hips with his scrutiny put her on edge. While she did not care whether she possessed enough womanly appeal to tempt him, she did not want him to become displeased by the simple sight of her. After all, he had paid thirty thousand pounds for every inch of the skin he stared at now.
“Would you look at that?” he murmured, his voice joining his gaze to travel over her in a handless caress. “Niall, isn’t she the bonniest thing?”
Gasping, she covered herself—one hand cupping her mons and an arm shielding her breasts. He’d caused her to forget the presence of the butler, who loomed somewhere behind her, silently witnessing this entire encounter. Willingly allowing him to inspect her had been one thing … being forced to let another man witness it, quite another.
“’Tis hard to say from behind, Master,” Niall replied, his tone light, as if the two men were discussing the weather instead of the nude woman standing between them. “Though from here, I can attest she’s got a lovely arse.”
If she flushed any more, she might go up in flames, her entire body from scalp to toes alight with humiliation.
“Well, don’t be shy,” Adam prompted, grasping her shoulders. “I’m a bit jealous of Niall’s view of your arse, and I know he’s keen to see those fine tits of yours.”
Before she could blink, he had spun her to face the butler, who remained at his post in the corner of the room. He had an unobstructed view of her as Adam gave her a little push forward. Then, coming up behind her, he grasped her hands and forced them away from her body, revealing every bit of what she’d tried to hide. Keeping a firm hold on her wrists, he lowered them to her sides and pressed his front against her back, his pelvis cradling her arse and giving her another feel of the hard ridge between his legs.
“You enjoy his eyes on you, don’t you, Daphne?” he rasped against her ear as across the room, Niall appraised her with eyes that betrayed nothing.
Lifting her chin, she met Niall’s gaze defiantly. “No.”
Adam nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply and then releasing his breath on a chuckle. “Liar. You know how bonny you are, don’t you? You primp and preen for the young blades of London, priding yourself on remaining chaste while driving them mad with lust for you. Swaying those hips of yours when you walk and batting those long eyelashes for their attention, then retreating to the protection of the men who cosset you. Back into your cage where it’s safe, little dove … they cannot touch you there. And there you remain, pretty, unsullied, and pure.”
“Not for long, eh?” Niall mumbled, prompting another laugh from Adam.
“Not for long, indeed,” he agreed.
Releasing her, he approached the butler, turning his back to her dismissively as he reached into the breast pocket of his coat. Daphne refused to cover herself, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he’d humiliated her. She kept her head held high and her gaze locked on him as he handed an envelope to Niall.
“Have this letter delivered to Fairchild House in London, posthaste,” Adam commanded. “We must let Daphne’s family know their pampered princess will be safe with us.”
Bowing to his lord, Niall then cast her one last cursory glance. “Right away, Master.”
As the butler retreated from the room, tucking the envelope into his breast pocket, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least Adam would remain true to his word and ensure her family knew she was safe. At least, as safe as she could be in the company of the man who seemed set on their destruction.
They would be horrified to know where she had gone, but not foolish enough to come after her. Too much hung in the balance, and with Bertram’s reputation already in tatters, they would do everything they could to conceal her absence from theton.They would understand that it had to be her—that she was the only Fairchild with anything of value left to barter with.
