Page 18 of Soul Of A Villain

“Be quiet,” he gruffly commanded. “Or I’ll find something else to use besides my palm. Remember you just agreed to accept anything I do to you.”

The threat worked. Londyn swallowed her cries, trying to be silent. It went on forever until she wondered if his hand was as sore as her buttocks. Realistically, he’d held back from using his full strength, but that did not hurt any less.

“Please,” Londyn finally begged in desperation when he gave no indication of ever stopping. For some strange reason, the last few swats felt different as the pain eased from a thousand stinging bees to a dull, almost comforting ache. That in itself was enough to cause confused panic. “Please, you’re hurting me.” Her legs wobbled, unable to support her weight, but Oliver responded by shoving a knee between them to balance her.

The heavy thickness of him there, pressing hard on vulnerable areas, sent searing waves of shock through her. Her entire body was instantly hyperaware of him—his crisp, spicy scent, his large, warm hands, and his calm breathing. But mostly, she was tuned to his leanly muscled form and how everything inside her quivered in response.

Majoring in the field of psychology taught her many things, but never had those lessons been as intensely personal as her current situation. Two things were blatantly obvious.

One… this man was a seriously disturbed individual with a desire to punish women for some unknown wrong.

Two… she was just as fucked up as he was because her body was drowning in acceptance.

“It’s a punishment, Londyn. It’s supposed to hurt. Now, are you going to be a good girl and stay fucking still so I don’t leave you with any lasting damage? “

She could not articulate a response. Her brain was too fuzzy to form words. She sagged against the countertop and onto his thigh with a soft, helpless moan of contentment. Why andhowdid any of this feel good? Where had the pain disappeared to? Experimentally, she rocked back and forth against the muscular thigh wedged between her legs. A breathy sigh of bliss escaped her as the endorphins spiked higher. Why had he stopped spanking her? She wanted more, although it made zero sense to want that.

“Fuck,” Oliver groaned, his distant voice raspy with lust. “You’re fucking perfect. Do you know that, Londyn?” He pressed harder, applying direct pressure to her clit in the most delightful way. “I shouldn’t give you a single moment of pleasure. Not when this was supposed to be a goddamn punishment.” He slapped her ass again, and another moan slipped between her lips when the strike jolted her. “But, fuck, if I can help myself. Do you know why? Do you? It’s because your skin is now a beautiful, glowing pink, branded with my handprints. And your sweet cunt is dripping all over my thigh. You enjoy riding my leg like a whore in heat, don’t you? You liked that spanking, too. And now you want me to make you come while you’re flying in subspace.”

He bent over her, his thigh remaining steady in pressure but adding a rotating movement that made Londyn whimper. Is this what it felt like to pass out? This floaty, dreamy state she was now deep inside?

“Are you going to come for me, dove?” His growl reverberated through her as he spanked her again. “Fucking come on my thigh, Londyn. Show me that you understand every inch of you, willing or not, belongs to me. Come for me like this. Beg me. Plead me to make you come.”

“Please...” Londyn could not stop the tsunami building inside her. As if from a great distance, she heard him spit, followed by a muttered curse. She didn’t understand until something wet and warm, something intrusive but so damned exhilarating, pressed against the puckered ring of her ass. It hurt just enough to clear some of the cobwebs from her dazed mind but not enough to make her fight back. When he dipped his thumb into her, carefully but insistently stretching the small hole until her body allowed the violation, she sobbed harder. “Please.”

“Please, what, Londyn?” he mocked, in full control of her at that moment and forcing her to accept it. To revel in it. To push against it, silently demanding more. Londyn surrendered to the darkness of his possession. The pressure, the shocking fullness invading her private region, along with the firm press of his thigh, drove her over the edge. Nothing else mattered except her captor and his hands as they molded her to fit his cruel grip. He was imprisoning her in a web of her own confusing desire. She had no shame. No pride. No sense of herself and her own identity. All that mattered was reaching a climax with his hands and words guiding her.

Her first-ever orgasm—orchestrated by a man she did not know.

“Let me come… let me…” she moaned almost incoherently. “Please let me…”

“Fuck, yes. Come for me, Londyn. With my blood and spit in your tight little ass, my thumb fucking you here, and my thigh drenched from your soaked cunt. Come for me.” He groaned as shudders racked Londyn’s body in response to his growled command. When the orgasm took her under, the pleasure was so intense that black pinpoints exploded behind her closed eyes.

Oliver’s voice seemed to come from a million miles away. She focused on it as she drifted toward unconsciousness.

“If you could see how gorgeous you are right now, Londyn. Your ass isall pink and marked with the imprint of my fingers. I cannot wait until I have you stretched out and taking my cock in all your sweet holes. I can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I fuck you for the first time. I can’t wait to hear you beg me again. And youwillbeg. For more. For me to stop. And then for more again. Because this is just the beginning.”

Without warning, Oliver moved so that his entire body was between her legs, keeping them spread wide. His thumb remained lodged inside her, but now, one broad finger of the same hand thrust inside her pussy, sliding into the depths of her body with shameful ease. But it was too much. Too full. Too painful. She was filled with him whether she wished it or not. Reaching beyond the endorphins coursing through her, pain nudged at sensitive nerve endings until the sensation outpaced the pleasure. Her hips rolled in shocking tandem with his every move.

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpered. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving tiny puddles on the granite.

“Fuck, your pussy is so goddamn tight.” Oliver ignored her accusation, the sound of his low chuckle sound chilling Londyn to the bone. He continued plunging and withdrawing his fingers, his other hand keeping her pinned to the counter. “Better get used to it, Londyn. Because my cock is a hell of a lot bigger than what’s inside you right now.”

Everything inside her screamed in horror. Because Londyn finally understood. Understood why her mother had pursued a lifetime of bad choices with abusive, horrible men who berated her and used her body. She got why her sister allowed Sheriff Adam Franklin to do awful things until she stood up to him. It had taken less than twenty-four hours to discover what three years of psychology studies failed to reveal about Londyn’s own psyche. She was as fucked up as the man holding her down. As drawn to the darkness as her mother and sister. She’d buried it for so long. Avoiding men in general. Ignoring guys who asked her out on dates in high school and while attending classes at Vanderbilt. Throwing herself into her studies had worked.

But now, everything she tried so hard to suppress was slamming into her like a runaway freight train hurtling down the tracks. She could kick and scream and despise what was happening, but deep down, inside the darkest and secret parts of her inner soul, she found this exciting. Eventually, she would become addicted to Oliver Winter’s brand of dominance. Because some depraved part of herlikedthe way he hurt her. She liked how the bite of pain was tempered with overwhelming pleasure and how her body responded to his commands. How she quivered in anticipation of the violent yet calm way he took control of her.

Despite the burning ache from his thick finger in her pussy and his broad thumb invading herthere,Londyn’s body was tightening again. The fullness morphed into a need that could not be denied. If Oliver did not stop, she would come a second time. And that was a devastating realization.

Oh, God. What is wrong with me? What is happening to me? This can’t be who I am inside. It can’t be…

“Tell me something, little killer,” Oliver murmured. “Why did you kill the man delivering you here? Did you change your mind at the last minute? Try to escape, and he stopped you? Tell me what you did. And why.”

Londyn squeezed her eyes tightly. If only she could force her body to stop responding to him. If only she could blink this all away. Go back in time to the day before two guards from Diamond Lake Ranch picked her up at the airport in Denver. She would never have gotten in the car had she known the horrors awaiting her. Chewing her bottom lip, she stubbornly remained silent until Oliver’s cruel fingers bit into the back of her neck.

“I asked you a question, Londyn. I expect an answer.”

“He-he wanted to have sex with me in the back of the limo. Said it was my last chance for the next thirty days to have a real man,” Londyn mumbled, remembering how the man held her down, telling her that girls heading to a Diamond Lake Ranch auction always enthusiastically agreed to his proposition. “When I told him I was a virgin, that this was my chance to make the most money at auction, he laughed. Said whatever old man bought me wouldn’t know the difference. I fought back, but it only made him angry. He ripped my jeans off, tearing my shirt. There was a gun strapped into a holster under his arm, and I-I grabbed it. I clicked off the safety, and then there was a big boom. Blood was coming out of his mouth and from a hole in his side. I don’t remember anything else until we were at Diamond Lake Ranch. The other guard driving the limo told them I tried to get away.” She trembled as Oliver abruptly grew still. Despite reliving that terrifying experience, her body ached for him. It still wanted the strange, painful pleasure from her captor’s touch.

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