Page 67 of The Villain
Adam growled, the sound low and ominous. She could not tell if it were a sound of approval or one of anger.
“And you do not want soft or gentle, do you, little dove?” he urged, deepening his reach inside her, slamming his knuckles against her with each thrust.
“No,” she replied, no longer caring what it meant for her to admit to that … what a wanton it made her.
All she cared about was reaching the climax Adam held just out of reach, finding the sort of glorious ending only he could give her.
“Is this what you want?”
His question was her only warning before he withdrew his fingers from inside her, then cracked the palm of his opposite hand against one of her buttocks. Her skin stung at the point of impact, the strength of the blow knocking the wind from her. Parting her lips on a silent cry, she tightened her hold on the bedclothes.
“Is it?” he urged, spanking her again, this time slapping her opposite cheek.
This blow forced the air from her lungs, and it came out on a low moan. Her legs trembled beneath her, her inner channel clenching greedily with the echoes of her desperation.
“Yes!” she screamed when he hit her again, harder this time … so hard, she toppled onto her stomach.
He took hold of her hips and yanked her back into position.
“I warned you my next punishment would not be so merciful, did I not?” he rasped, before smacking her three more times in rapid succession, these blows more powerful than the ones before them. “But you do not want me merciful, do you? You want me punishing, and cruel, because that is the sort of insatiable little tart you are, isn’t it?Answer me!”
“Yes!” she cried breathlessly between blows. “Yes, yes, yes!”
The pain in her buttocks dissipated into something else the more he struck her, the fire he lit upon her arse melting to combine with the heat of her desire.
“He does not know you … he never can,” he panted out between ragged breaths, pausing in the midst of his punishment. “He would never appreciate you like this, little dove, at your most beautiful and vulnerable. That is why you ran off to London without marrying him … why you arrived at the age of four and twenty still a maiden. Isn’t it?”
She nodded, the coverlet beneath her cheek damp from her tears. A sob tore from her chest as the truth came crashing down upon her, so heavy she could hardly breathe beneath its weight.
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes … it’s true.”
She closed her eyes and wept into the counterpane as he went back to spanking her. Sinking into the darkness, into a haze where only this feeling existed. She needed to escape her own thoughts—the truth that despite her accusations,shewas the reason Robert was not her husband. She could have returned to Suffolk at any time, and he would have offered for her. She’d always known that. Instead, she’d hidden from him in London, knowing he could never give her the things she truly desired … the cravings she hid in the darkest corners of her heart and mind.
When she spiraled back up out of the haze, he was positioning himself at her entrance, hands holding tight to her hips. She threw her head back and cried out when he entered her, the first brutal thrust triggering her climax. Her core clenched and spasmed around him, the echoes of it so powerful, she felt them as deep as her womb. Her lungs burned from the breath she held, unable to release it while he pounded into her, his pelvis smacking against her sore arse and his cock drilling into her relentlessly.
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she found him lost in his own desire—eyes squeezed closed, lips parted as guttural groans spilled from within, the muscles in his abdomen bunching and flexing with each movement. His hair had come loose from its binding, falling over his shoulders and draping him in beautiful sable waves.
Just as suddenly as he’d begun, he pulled out of her abruptly, wrenching a cry of dismay from her. He laughed, the sound both cruel and mocking as he strummed a finger down her spine.
“Do not worry, little dove … I am far from being finished with you.”
She gasped when his finger delved back into her channel before pulling out again. Then, he was probing her rear entrance, sending a fresh rush of heat and shame through her. He had never done this to her before … never violated this forbidden part of her by delving the tip of his finger inside.
“Adam,” she whimpered, struggling against the need to protest and the desire to know where this would lead. “Wait.”
“Mine,” he rasped, thrusting the finger wet with her juices in and out of her rear passage. “Every part of you, Daphne … all of it is mine.”
She choked on a protest when he pulled his finger free, grasping her buttocks with both hands and spreading her wide.
“Wait,” she gasped when the head of his cock touched her there, his tip seeming impossibly large against the little opening. “Adam … please …”
He shifted against her with a groan, his cock nudging against the tight hole, sending lightning strikes of sensation through her entire being.
“You know how I love it when you beg, little dove,” he moaned, pushing against her again, gaining an inch into her this time.
The new sensation gave way to burning pain as he forced his way inside of her inch by slow inch, groaning and panting with each surge of his hips. She sobbed and clawed at the coverlet, clenching her teeth to try to muffle the sounds.
“I can’t … it hurts … please,” she moaned, her words contradicting her body. Her knees spread wider, her back arching deeper as if to take him farther in, to take every inch of him.
