Page 14 of Soul Of A Villain

Londyn’s nod was terse.

His smile grew. “I want to hear you say it. Say you understand, Londyn.”

Her eyes closed briefly before she stared steadily ahead. “I understand.”

He watched her as if considering his next move while Londyn’s heart pounded. Then he reached out, hooking his fingers into the top of the robe and pulling until she had no choice but to go where he wanted.

Pressing her back against the door frame, Oliver braced an arm above her head and leaned in. His gaze flickered over her pale features. His firm lips quirked in amusement at her obvious fear.

“Jesus Christ, you are beautiful. I didn’t realize how much until just now,” he murmured almost to himself. Placing an index finger beneath her chin, he lifted it until she met his gaze. “And when your eyes flash at me like that, you’re fucking stunning. Such a pretty color, too. The same shade as the mourning doves my father had me use for target practice as a kid.” His jaw tightened, irritation evident in the clench of his teeth as he revealed more than he intended.

Londyn swallowed a whimper. What sort of parent encouraged a boy to shoot harmless birds for practice? It was barbaric and cruel. She flattened herself against the door frame. She didn’t want him to think she was beautiful. She didn’t want him to be attracted to her in any way, but that was a very foolish thing to hope for. Like other predators in her life, this one was drawn to her face and figure. And because she was smaller and weaker than him, he believed it was his right to take whatever he desired.

Standing like this, trapped by his muscular arms and the rock-hard solidness of his body, Londyn became aware of several things. First, he had to be at least six-four, which meant he towered over her measly five-three height. And his muscles… they rippled beneath the tight black T-shirt he wore. A faint scruff covered his chin, and the horrifying thought that this had caused the mysterious scrapes on her thighs sent panic scurrying along her veins.

“What are you thinking, little killer?” His head inclined until their foreheads were nearly touching. “How you might get away? Youcan’t. How to talk me out of taking what is mine? Youwon’t.”

Londyn tried to remember everything she’d learned so far about dealing with sociopaths and troubled individuals. But it all jumbled in her head, mixing like a deadly cocktail spiked with fear and recklessness.

“How did I get the marks on the inside of my legs?”

Her impulsive demand sent a genuine smile skating across his face.

“Marks?” he teased. “What marks? Let me see. Maybe I can tell you what caused them.”

“I don’t remember what happened last night. For all I know, the three of you took turns assaulting me.” Londyn’s mouth tightened in outrage.

“No one touched you in that way other than me, Londyn. And no one will as long as you live.”

“The one guard, Carl, he liked hurting me. Maybe he?—”

“Carl is dead. I snapped his neck,” Oliver stated with nonchalant coolness.

Londyn stared at him. Had she heard him right? “You did what?”

Oliver trailed his finger down from her chin until it landed in the hollow of her throat. “You heard me. He struck you hard enough to knock you out. So, I broke his neck. You are my property. No one hurts you unless it’s me.”

A wave of nausea swept her. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Knowing another man had lost his life because of her was more than she could comprehend. Even if the two men were monsters, knowing she was the catalyst for their deaths was disturbing. “Did the three of you… There-there are scrapes and what I think are marks that weren’t there before. Like bite marks.”

“I told you, dove. No one touched you except me.” There was a smugness to his tone that could not be ignored. Londyn’s stomach dropped as his words sunk in.

“You touched me…” Her words came out in a breathy exhale of horror, too overwhelmed by his admission to pay much attention to the nickname.

Oliver brushed his nose along hers before softly pressing his mouth to her lips. He kissed her gently between words. “Silly little girl. Of course, I touched you. I kissed. I licked. I tasted. Fuck. Ifeasteduntil you nearly came on my tongue. Your body enjoyed it. It responds because it understands what your mind hasn’t yet grasped. You belong to me. Your body is mine. Your delicious cunt is mine. Your mouth. The air in your lungs…” He kissed her more forcefully then, curling his hand around her throat, his tongue stroking hers until Londyn moaned in panicked surrender, and he allowed her to take a breath. “That’s mine, too. Every piece of you is mine. Mine to play with. Mine to use. Mine to destroy.”

ChapterNine

Oliver

Londyn’sbottom lips quivered at his declaration.

Fuck. Why was he admitting his actions from last night? Why admit anything, for that matter? Although he certainly enjoyed the glint of fear in those dove-gray eyes, he relished far more the tiny sounds she made when he kissed her.

Taking pity on her, Oliver stepped back. “I’ve made coffee if you want some.”

He didn’t miss her frown of mystified confusion as he quickly moved past the admission of murder on her behalf and the confession that she’d been violated. Yeah, maybe there was an ick factor regarding eating her pussy while she was unconscious, but he’d fucking do it again in a heartbeat.

Lacing his fingers through hers, Oliver led Londyn down the hall to the elegantly rustic kitchen. He pushed her to sit on a barstool at the black granite island, watching with avid interest as she fought to keep the robe from gaping and exposing her long legs.

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