Page 29 of Soul Of A Villain

Torture. Degradation. Pain.

She could scream and scream, and no one would ever hear her. They were far below the main foundation of the house above them. The air was cool, the room windowless with corners as dark as midnight. But despite the obvious, dungeon-like atmosphere, there were undeniable touches of expensive luxuries. Recessed lighting cast warm, golden pools of light over the main components of the room. A beautiful couch upholstered in blood-red velvet occupied one of the many alcoves, and a thick abstract rug of black and gray defined that area. Hidden speakers played a hauntingly seductive tune Londyn had never heard before, and sconces crafted of black iron and diamondlike fractured glass adorned the walls and threw off a low, flickering light.

Oliver watched Londyn as she gazed around the room. She could tell that he liked the fear she could not hide. Liked the horror in her expression as she took in the implements of torture. He liked scaring her. It was part of what made him tick. It excited him.

For some unholy reason, her pulse began racing. Adrenaline scorched her veins, and for reasons she could not yet completely face, Londyn trembled with realization.

She felt more alive in this moment than she ever had. Knowing she had no control over what would happen next, no way of stopping this man from doing anything he wanted with her, was incredibly freeing. And knowing he would encourage her to scream, cry, and curse was almost cathartic. If she let everything out, screamed out all her frustration, all her pain and fears, he would most likely praise her for it. It was both a sobering revelation and a frightening thought.

Maybe… she needed therapy, too. And this was only the first session.

ChapterSeventeen

Londyn

“Londyn, look at me,”Oliver commanded in a smooth, low voice. He waited until her gaze drifted back to him before continuing. It seemed he was choosing his words with care. “If you please me, if you do exactly as I say and give me your complete submission, I’ll do what you asked of me that first morning. I will end your life rather than send you back to Diamond Lake Ranch.”

Londyn’s eyes watered at the finality of his tone. “You could let me go. I-I won’t tell anyone what happened. I’ll go back home. Take care of my sister. Find justice for her and punish the man who hurt her. Let me go, and I won’t say a word about you. About us. This. I swear it.”

Oliver shook his head, eyes darkening. “I can’t let you go, nor can I keep you. Because once I fuck that tight little virgin cunt, I won’t rest until I’m certain no other man ever experiences the pleasure of you squeezing his cock like you will soon squeeze mine. The only way to ensure you aren’t sold to another man is to watch you take your last breath while I’m buried deep inside you.” His blue eyes glittered like diamonds. “Be a good girl, and I will make it quick and painless.”

The unspoken threat of what would happen should she fail to meet the vague qualifications for beinga good girlhung in the cool air of the underground playroom. Her chest tightened until she felt faint, but she nodded in agreement.

A smile tugged at his lips, but it was a cold one. It never reached his eyes. Londyn closed hers, swaying with terror while tremors swept her body. She gritted her teeth to control the shaking as her bare toes curled against the stone floor. Her legs were suddenly so weak that she teetered on the verge of collapse.

“How do I know you will keep your promise? How can I be sure you let my sister have the money once I’m dead and gone? How do I know you won’t just take the money back?”

Oliver’s head tilted at her accusation. For a moment, he looked offended. Then he shrugged. “You don’t know, Londyn. I can’t even swear that I’ll keep my promise because there’s not a fucking thing in this world that I hold dear enough to swear against. So, bad luck on that. You’ll just have to hope I keep my word. If it makes you feel better, you can haunt me from the afterlife if I fail to keep my end of our deal.” He smirked at her, his features darkening as he softly commanded, “Down on your knees, Londyn. Hands behind your back. No more speaking unless I permit it.”

The room spun as she quickly obeyed. The black slip was too short to cushion her bare legs, but the discomfort of kneeling on the hard floor was overshadowed by apprehension.

She could not see what he was doing. The clink of something metal ratcheted her breathing to the point of hyperventilation.

“Deep breaths for me, dove. I don’t want you passing out yet. Not when we are only just beginning.” His breath brushed the hair behind her ear as he stood behind her. Taking her wrists, he then clicked a pair of handcuffs around them.

When she gave her hands an experimental twist, Londyn realized the cuffs were constructed of butter-soft leather. The sound she heard was the chain linking them together.

Oliver spoke again in low, soothing tones. “For the last week or so, I’ve gathered items essential for our time together. The furniture in this room, the St. Andrew’s Cross, the bedframe, the couch, and the swing were installed before I purchased the cabin, but they’ve never been used, not even by the prior owner. The restraints and the implements I will use are new.”

Londyn’s fists clenched at the unspoken revelation. “There’s never been another… you mean...”

Oliver’s fingers laced through her hair, tilting her head back until she could see his face from where he still stood behind her. “You are the first, Londyn. I’ve never felt strongly enough about another woman to do half the things I plan on doing with you.” From this awkward position, he kissed the tip of her nose. “And you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

Keeping one hand entangled in Londyn’s hair, Oliver moved to stand before her. He held the tresses tight for a long moment, then abruptly released her. His mouth curved with the ghost of a smile as he unbuttoned his white shirt, slowly rolling up the cuffs to reveal muscular forearms. When the shirt fluttered around his chiseled body, Londyn could see the white, square bandage from the stab wound. Her pulse accelerated with dread.

“Open your mouth.”

Londyn did not move.Oh, God. What is he going to do?

Oliver’s hand curled around her throat, snapping her back to attention. “Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”

She complied, a tear running down her cheek that Oliver immediately scooped on the end of his forefinger. He sucked the teardrop before sliding the digit so deep into her mouth she nearly gagged. His smile grew wider at her involuntary response and the way her legs clenched together.

“Sweet as nectar. Oh, Londyn. Everything about you is so fucking delicious. I’m going to devour every part of you. Worship every part of you. And I willpossessevery part of you. Starting with this beautiful mouth and throat.”

Withdrawing his finger, Oliver’s large hands went to the black leather belt around his trim waist. Deliberately, he slid it free from his jeans, then passed its end through the buckle so that it fashioned a loop.

Londyn closed her eyes as he gently placed the noose around her neck. It hung loose, but the implication was quite clear. He meant to choke her with it. To extinguish her life at that very moment. A sob escaped before she could swallow it back down.

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