Page 47 of Soul Of A Villain

Oh, God. Does he mean what I think he means? He’s going to finally do it. He’s getting rid of me.

Her hand was shaky as she laid the fork across the plate. Although it took every bit of willpower she possessed not to jump from the barstool, she remained calm. If she could get outside and away from the cabin, if she acted like nothing was wrong, there was a better chance of escaping the fate he had planned.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Miss Millertsked.“Your time here is always too short.” Her friendly smile was directed at Londyn. “I hope you come back and visit us, Miss Skye.”

Oliver pushed his plate away and stood to move behind Londyn’s chair. “She would love to, wouldn’t you, Londyn?” His fingers rested on either side of her neck, lightly skimming the skin over her collarbone. To the casual observer, it would appear to be a sweet, caring gesture of affection. Or a display of ownership from Londyn’s point of view. She could not help the way her body trembled in response, and when he squeezed her in warning, Londyn swallowed a whimper.

“Of course,” she quickly answered and was rewarded when Oliver’s mouth brushed her ear, his breath warm and spine-tingling.

“Good girl,” he murmured before raising his voice for Miss Miller’s benefit. “I wonder if you could prepare a basket that we can take to the lake this afternoon. Just simple things… fruit and cheese. And a bottle of wine from the cellar. Red, I think, would be nice. Maybe the Hundred Acre Dark Ark Cabernet Sauvignon?”

Oliver waited for Londyn to stand up, then entwined his fingers with hers, pulling her closer as Miss Miller beamed in approval. “If you will excuse us, Miss Miller, I must make sure Londyn is properly prepared for our outing today. Just leave the items on the dining room table, and we’ll grab them on our way out later today.”

He dragged Londyn from the kitchen, taking her down a hallway she’d not dared to venture down during her exploration of the house. It was dark, dimly lit by the window at the far end, and paneled in rich wood with matching recessed molding. A moment later, Oliver turned the handle on a heavy oak door and pulled her inside a room paneled in the same manner. It was an office. A huge desk crafted of black-stained wood occupied a space in front of tall windows. With the drapes pulled open enough to admit a swath of morning sunlight, Londyn could see the trees beyond and a glimpse of blue sky above them.

Kicking the door shut and turning the lock, Oliver swiftly pressed Londyn flat against the paneled wall. He leaned into her space with a wicked smile. “Did you miss me, little dove?”

He smelled like rich coffee and his spicy, sharp cologne. Londyn’s hands fisted in his black shirt, pulling him closer without meaning to, which was an answer itself.

Untangling her fingers from the fabric, Oliver gripped her wrists in one large hand and pinned them to the wall above her head. His gaze raked over her body, his mouth quirking upward at the Vandy sweatshirt, khaki shorts, and tennis shoes she wore. “These are not the clothes I bought you, are they?” Those icy-blue eyes smoldered as his free hand snaked around her waist. Slipping his fingers beneath the sweatshirt’s hem, he ran a gentle finger over the cuts he’d given her.

Londyn’s eyes fluttered shut as she swallowed a cry. She had examined those marks several times, craning her head and looking over her shoulder to see them in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. They tingled as he traced them, one by one, until she finally opened her eyes. His gaze bore into hers, a spark of possessive triumph deep in the blue depths.

“No,” she admitted softly. The things she wore were familiar. Comfortable. She didn’t feel bought and owned when she slipped them on.

“Are you still bleeding?” he asked softly, his fingers still exploring her back.

“No,” Londyn choked out. She would have arched away from his touch, but that would only press her body closer to his. “They don’t hurt…”

“I’m not talking about the cuts I gave you.” His gravelly voice cut her off. His hand left the small of her back, sliding to the front of her body and between her legs until he cupped her sex. His palm was firm, hot, and inescapable. Londyn gasped in shock as he ground it against her, leaving no doubt as to the nature of thebleeding he referred to.

“Are you bleeding, dove?” he questioned again. “Because that will determine your punishment.”

She quickly shook her head. An alarming spark ignited with the movement of his hand, and although her flesh was sore, Londyn closed her eyes in disbelief at how good it felt. “Punishment?”

“You deliberately disobeyed me.”

“You-you said I could go to different areas of the house. The kitchen?—”

Oliver laughed. “Don’t twist my words, Londyn. I instructed you to avoid interacting with my employees. Instead, I return to find you and Miss Miller chitchatting like best friends.

“It was an accident.” Londyn’s voice was shaky. “I did not know she was in the house this early. And I couldn’t help but talk to her. It would have been rude not to. Besides, I’ve not spoken to anyone other than you for two weeks now. I’m going crazy in this house by myself.”

“I understand that, dove. I really do. But it doesn’t change the fact you disobeyed me. Now, either wrap those pretty lips around my cock in the next five seconds or face the consequences for your defiance. What’s it going to be?”

“Fuck you,” Londyn whispered, knowing Oliver would take that as a challenge.

His smirk grew. “That’s the spirit. And while I really do admire your feistiness, right now, I’ll settle for fucking your mouth and enjoying the sounds you make while you choke on my dick.” Releasing her hands, Oliver wrapped his fingers around her throat and brushed his nose against her cheek, breathing deep as his grip tightened. “You smell so goddamn good when you’re scared, Londyn. I can’t get enough.”

Londyn held her breath as he nuzzled the space below her ear. When he took the earlobe between his teeth and bit down, Londyn’s throat closed around a moan. She hated how quickly her resistance faded, but Oliver cast a seductive spell that was difficult to resist.

“Down on your knees for me, dove.”

Londyn shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No.”

“Oh, this is non-negotiable,” he replied with a chuckle, flexing his fingers until her breath came out in little pants.

“You told Miss Miller the house would be empty. Where are you going?” Londyn countered abruptly.