Page 26 of The Villain
He chuckled, nuzzling one of her breasts and teasing it with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Of course.”
She gasped when he continued licking her clean, delving his tongue between her breasts, then tracing the crest of each one, pointedly avoiding her nipples. She squirmed in his lap, beyond caring that each movement caused her bottom to surge against his cock. The organ was full and thick, throbbing against her through his breeches.
“I will not lie with another woman’s husband,” she managed between pants, her resolve slipping away as he went on teasing her, taking little nips at her breasts, nuzzling her neck, teasing her collarbone with his teeth. “Not even for thirty thousand pounds.”
“I have no wife,” he grunted. “Now cease your prattling.”
She gasped when his lips closed around her nipple, finally giving her what she wanted. The pleasure of his tongue circling the tight bud struck her deep, causing answering twinges of longing deep in her core. He suckled her with relish, his cheeks caving in as he drew as much of her into his mouth as could fit, as if he wanted to devour her whole.
She became pliant in his hands, a bit of clay for him to mold how he wished. Even the discomfort of her arms being held behind her back faded as he released one breast and moved to the other. Nipping at her with his teeth caused her to cry out at the slight sting, then sigh, melting from the pleasure of his tongue soothing it away.
When he stopped, she wanted to weep, the pulsing between her thighs now unbearable. She wanted to twine her fingers through his hair and hold him to her breasts, arching her back and inviting him to consume as much of her as he desired. Yet, the unrelenting hand wrapped around her wrists reminded her she was in no position to make demands of him.
She’d lost her grip on rationale, craving the mouth of a man who, when he wasn’t making her feel this way, was hurling insults at her and speaking ill of her family. It defied explanation and reason, this notion that she could desire someone she loathed. She had always thought of softer emotions and desire to be intertwined, but Adam proved her wrong with every kiss, every touch.
As if to further prove his point, he released her wrists and pushed her to her feet. Then, moving his chair back from the table a bit, he grabbed hold of her again, swiftly upending her so she lay over his knee. A gasp of dismay lodged in her throat as he began pulling up her gown with one hand, bracing the other against her back.
“What the devil are you doing?” she screeched, kicking her legs once the cool air of the room kissed her backside, and shocking her out of her lustful daze.
A large hand collided with the back of one thigh, stilling her movements. The blow had been a warning, she realized. She had already angered him with her questioning … perhaps it would be best to avoid pushing him any farther while he had her in such a vulnerable position.
“Teaching you a lesson, little dove,” he replied, slowly smoothing one hand up the thigh he had abused, resting it upon the swell of her buttocks. “Should you fail to obey when I require it, or act like an uncultured harridan, I will take you over my knee.”
The words to upbraid him came readily to her tongue, but died a swift death at the first blow of his hand to her bare arse. A gasp lodged in her throat as the thud shifted her body, her skin blossoming with a sting that spread from the point of impact. Before she could recover, his hand rose and fell again, this time punishing the other cheek. Again and again, he struck her, increasing his force every other blow, until she felt certain she would be unable to sit for days. But then, the burn of pain faded into something else, a warmth that infused her entire body, causing her to relax against him, her head falling forward as she ceased fighting the punishment.
Yet another new sensation she did not understand. His blows hurt, truly punishing her for acting out of turn. However, her body had translated the pain into something else … something frightening and exquisite all at once. She could hardly fathom it before it had ended.
Seeming satisfied with her submission, he stopped spanking her and began caressing her sore buttocks, his touch so feather-light, it felt like a soothing balm. She sighed, the tension in her body melting as he kneaded and massaged her buttocks, easing away the pain as effortlessly as he’d caused it.
Then, he delved two of his large fingers between her legs, slowly sliding them down toward her quim. She gasped at the first touch of his fingers to her folds, and he made an answering sound as he began to caress her.
“So wet for me, little dove,” he said, his voice hoarse and gruff as he found her clit and gave it a little pinch.
She gasped at the pressure, then moaned when he dipped one finger inside her. The digit merely caressed her inner walls before pulling out again, and she issued a grunt of annoyance.
He chuckled, stroking his fingers over her in circles, his touch gliding over her silken wetness. “And such a greedy thing you are … needing pleasure again so soon after this afternoon. If you aren’t careful, I’ll make you burn for me … day and night, yearning for my touch.”
She wanted to deny it, to declare he could never do that to her. Giving him the satisfaction would just be one more thing he could laugh at her over … just one more thing he would take from her. Aside from that, she needed to deny it for herself, to reassure herself that she had not fallen too deeply into this pit of depravity.
Nevertheless, she was burning for him now, whimpering and arching her back, attempting to urge his fingers where she wanted them, where she needed them.
“Yes, that’s it, Daphne,” he whispered, grasping her clit and pinching it again, harder this time. “Stop holding back and let yourself feel. There is no one else here but you and me … No one ever need know you enjoyed it.”
No … no one would ever know. Just as no one had ever known about the secret passion she’d shared with her neighbor, or the times she’d given in to her debauched urges and teased herself toward climax with her own fingers. But, she would know … she would always remember.
In spite of that, she could not make herself put a stop to this … could not conjure words like ‘stop’ or ‘no.’ Not that she believed he would heed them. He was paying quite a bit of money to do what he pleased with her, and refusing him might cause him to renege.
Closing her eyes, she bit her lip as he slipped his finger back into her slick entrance, teasing her clit while delving the digit in and out. Her insides snapped, the tension of her need dissipating and spreading outward on waves of euphoria. The strength of her rapture shook her to her core, making her grateful for Adam’s strong hold keeping her from toppling off his lap. He went on stroking her, his touch gentle and light as he eased her back down slowly.
When she went still and silent, he withdrew his finger, the sound of him licking it clean causing her core to clench once more, an echo of her fading orgasm.
Swiftly snatching her skirts down, he righted her so quickly, her head spun. Falling back into the chair she’d previously occupied, Daphne hardly realized he had stood before he was striding for the door. Dumbfounded, she lifted her bodice back over her breasts with shaking fingers, the chill of the wet fabric shocking her into lucidity.
Shame washed over her at the realization of what she’d just done—reveling in the touch of the man who had destroyed her family—not just once, but twice within the same day. She’d brazenly lain across his lap and allowed him to debauch her, to make her forget who he was and why she was here.
Pausing in the doorway, he glanced at her over his shoulder, his expression as unreadable as always.
“Have a care, little dove,” he said, a heavy warning in his tone. “The next time, my punishment will not be so merciful.”
