Page 21 of The Villain
Another growl emitted from his throat … primal, masculine. “How old were you the first time you let him touch you?”
“Ten and six, the first time. His family’s country estate bordered ours, and we were of an age.”
She had promised herself that she would not reveal these things to him, but he was leaving her with no choice. Just as he had that morning he’d thrown her, naked, onto the table, he was giving her no room to deny him.
Closing her eyes, she tried to pretend she could not feel his burning gaze on her. She reminded herself that giving him this secret would allow her something she wanted … and she’d already lost the fight over underthings with him. It would injure her pride to lose ground here, as well. Besides, these mundane details did not give him the full picture of her feelings for the young suitor of her past … nor did they ruin them. She would not let him ruin them.
“How romantic,” he grumbled, clear disdain tingeing his words. “The lord’s young daughter and the neighbor’s son … sneaking away to steal kisses when Papa isn’t watching. Such a wicked girl you were.”
Her response died on her lips as he suddenly jerked her gown up to her waist, baring her body from the hips down. Despite the fact that he’d already seen her naked, instinct caused her thighs to clench inward. They met the resistance of his shoulders, and he chuckled, seeming to sense her distress over being unable to cover herself.
She kept her eyes closed, hoping that detaching herself from him would make this easier for her. Perhaps she could pretend he was her first lover—a man who had touched her with such reverence and care.
His hand cracked against her inner thigh in a reprimand, and a gasp lodged in her throat as her eyes flew open. Gazing down at him in shock, she bit back a whimper at the stinging pain blossoming where he’d struck her.
His gaze burned into her, his voice clipped and abrupt when he spoke. “Always keep your eyes open. I don’t want you escaping me.”
It lay on the tip of her tongue to argue that she hadn’t been trying to escape. But they would both know it to be a lie. That was precisely what she’d been trying to do. As he turned his head and began kissing her reddened flesh, Daphne realized she should have known he would never allow it.
So, she kept her rapt attention upon him as he went on kissing the inside of her thigh, as if to soothe the skin he’d bruised. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and his sharp stubble prickled her skin, exacerbating the sting from his blow. Yet, his lips skimmed her in a pleasant counterpoint. The dual sensations did queer things to her belly, twisting her in knots until she was left uncertain of how to feel.
“Tell me more about your first lover,” he mumbled between kisses, bracing his large hands upon her thighs to hold her open.
She shuddered in his grasp, but could not move otherwise, forced to rest on her elbows as he turned his attention to her other leg, kissing her and running his nose along her skin as if breathing her in. The longer she watched him, the more some hidden part of her reacted … the more she enjoyed what he did to her.
“He was no one important,” she lied.
She might reveal her secrets, but she would not utter his name.
“Of course he was,” Adam countered, lifting his head and meeting her gaze once more. “He must have been quite special to you … if you allowed him access to your body. Did he touch you, little dove?”
His breath tickled her mons, the sensation lodging her breath in her throat. She could only manage a swift, jerky nod, which prompted a feline smile from Adam.
“Like this?” he asked, slipping a thumb between her nether lips, seeking out the little bud of her pleasure.
She gasped when he pressed down upon it, then began moving his thumb in slow circles. Her insides fluttered, her hips bucking against his hand.
How did he do this … understand what her body would respond to with such accuracy?
“N-no,” she panted out between swift breaths. “I mean … yes, but … not the way you are doing it.”
He chuckled, the golden flecks in his eyes becoming downright molten as he held her gaze while still steadily stroking her clitoris. “Do you not like the way I’m touching you?”
The shudder that tore through her answered his question, even as she struggled to find words. Her mind had begun to fade as her body seemed to practically hum with pleasure from the press of only his thumb.
“His touch was lighter than yours,” she whispered. “Gentler.”
He laughed again, the one hand holding her thigh tightening, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.
“What a gentleman he must have been. I’d wager he did not open you up and spread you out wide like this, did he?”
Her face flamed hot as she recalled the slender hands of the man in question slipping beneath her skirts, touching her through her drawers. She did not need to answer for Adam to know to truth.
“His loss, I say,” he declared. “How about this, little dove … did he touch you like this?”
She mewled when he pushed a thick finger inside of her, the wetness he’d coaxed from her core slicking his path. One of her feet slipped and struck several keys of the pianoforte, sending notes of music floating through the air to mingle with the soft sounds he pushed out of her with each slow stroke of his finger inside her. A familiar sensation began winding in her middle, growing tighter and tighter until she felt as if she might snap. Arching her back, she struggled to keep her eyes open as Adam had demanded. But she was spiraling, her body hovering on the verge of release.
“Did he?” he asked again, his voice growing sharper as he suddenly pulled out of her.
