Page 36 of Soul Of A Villain

Then, for reasons Londyn could not understand, he poured shampoo into his hand and began lathering her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp and the aching tendons in her neck. A moan of pleasured distress slipped from her. She shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.

“Shhhh,” Oliver murmured, rinsing the suds away with capable hands. “I did a very poor job of seeing to your needs after our time in the playroom. It’s important to do these things. So, let me take care of you right now, Londyn. Okay?”

Londyn nodded as he followed the shampoo with conditioner before washing her body. The body wash smelled like him, a blend of spice and oak that was intoxicating and erotic. It surrounded her, infiltrating her senses. His large hands were everywhere as he rubbed liquid into her skin, his palms slicking over her breasts and stomach, kneading her shoulders, and sliding to her hips and butt cheeks. She fought to contain the sighs of pleasure. She’d never been touched with such care and attention before. It was amazing. Wrong and confusing—but amazing, nonetheless. Had this occurred in a different life, in a different place and time, she would have melted into this man and done anything he asked.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous, Londyn. Addictive. I can’t keep my goddamn hands off you.”

Londyn opened her eyes. Oliver was brutally beautiful, the water sluicing down his hard body, finding and traveling along the crevices and ridges of his abdomen. His pale-blue eyes gleamed like rare topazes as he touched and explored her curves. Why was he being gentle with her now after using her without a thought for her comfort? And why had he revealed so much about himself when speaking of his childhood and the relationship with his older brother? It sounded like he’d had a traumatizing childhood, much like her own. Maybe touching her like this satisfied his unvoiced need to comfort and be comforted. Maybe he was starved for human connection, and this was the only way to fulfill it. It was very puzzling. Londyn didn’t know what to think.

When he pinched her nipples between his forefinger and thumb, it proved impossible to think at all.

“Sit on the bench.”

Londyn frowned, shaking off her lassitude, as Oliver pushed her toward a wide ledge carved into the stone. It was slick with water but not in the direct path of the waterfall and the rain-shower nozzle. She sank onto it, his hands gripping her shoulders while guiding her.

Gazing at him, Londyn remained motionless as he thrust a hand into her hair. He held her still, his large palm cradling her scalp as he studied her features. His cock bobbed in front of her. The piercings caught the water, beaded up on the metal, andthen dripped off to land at her feet. Much like her saliva had done before.

She licked her lips, her throat tightening painfully. The memory of how he fucked her mouth with absolute ruthlessness made her thighs clench.

What was wrong with her? Why? Why did she wish he would do it all over again?

“You’re sore, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it? You liked what I did to you before, and I suspect you will love what I’ve planned next. I think when I fuck you for the first time, you’re going to come all over my cock like a good fucking girl. Isn’t that right, little dove?”

Londyn bit her lip, shaking her head in denial, but she couldn’t ignore the truth his words contained. Blood roared through her veins in response to his filthy accusation, her nipples tightening into hard buds that almost hurt. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Spread your legs for me, Londyn. Spread them wide.”

She did as she was told. Oliver sank to his knees between her outstretched thighs. Hooking his muscled forearms beneath her legs, he jerked her forward until her ass was nearly hanging off the bench seat.

Londyn braced herself on her elbows, meeting his gaze over the flat plane of her stomach. The position in which he had anchored her meanteverythingwas bared to him, ready to be devoured. His mouth twisted into a small grin, a lock of wet, dark hair falling over his brow as he took the sight of her in.

“You’re going to come for me like this. On my tongue. As many times as I demand. Do you understand? Your cum is a goddamn aphrodisiac, dove. And I don’t plan on stopping until it coats the inside of my mouth and drips down my fucking throat.” Leaning forward, he ran his tongue over her bare pussy and groaned. “Jesus Christ, you taste so damned good. You are so pretty. So soft and pink. I’m going to feast until I’m fucking full of you.”

“Oh, God,” Londyn breathed, and Oliver’s teeth flashed white as he bit the inside of her thigh, leaving another mark on the pale skin.

“Not God’s name, Londyn.Myname. And I want you to scream it.”

He lowered his head, and with the slightest brush of his lips against her sensitive clit, Londyn came undone. The rapid orgasm was as shocking as it was quick. It rolled over her, leaving her mangled and gasping for air. Her channel pulsed, aching for something to fill it as her clit throbbed from the feather-light pressure of Oliver’s tongue.

“Oh, Londyn. You didn’t follow my instruction,” he chuckled, raising his head and studying her. Although his chin was shaded by dark stubble, she could see it glistened with her juices. Her stomach clenched in embarrassment as he said in a husky voice, “I want another climax from you, and this time, I want your screams as well.”

When he forced her to reach the pinnacle again, she did scream. How could she not when his mouth ravaged sensitive flesh, and two large fingers were embedded in her vagina up to his knuckles? He rubbed a spot deep inside her, and she combusted with disgusting ease, her cry a long, wobbling wail of satisfaction and a craving for more.

“Fucking hell. That’s it, dove. Scream for me just like that. You are so fucking gorgeous like this. At my mercy. Coming for me. Clenching my fingers so goddamn tightly. Your pussy looks so pretty with my fingers deep inside it.Mine. All mine. Come for me again.”

“I-I can’t,” she moaned, her body sinking against the rocky ledge. “Please...”

“You can, and you will,” Oliver promised. He thrust his fingers in harder, his mouth latching onto her clit. When his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub, her weak scream filled the cave-like enclosure as she came so hard she blacked out.

When her eyes fluttered back open, she focused on Oliver as he pulled his tattooed fingers out of her and rose to his feet. Towering over her, he sucked those same fingers clean of her wetness, his eyes burning with lust and possessiveness as he made a show of licking the letters emblazoned on his skin. Glancing to his left, he contemplated the detachable shower nozzle while Londyn quivered at the obvious pathway of his thoughts. “Stand up and turn around. I want you on your knees. Ass in the air.”

When she did not move quickly enough, he grabbed her by the arms and yanked her upright. Spinning her, he arranged her in the position he desired, slapping her bare ass almost playfully once her chest was flat on the bench.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Londyn hesitated but quickly did what he ordered when he slapped the other side of her bottom. That one stung, but she choked back a squeal of pain and adjusted herself with the side of her face on the bench, her knees bent beneath her, and her ass high in the air. She looked like a deranged cat in heat, but Oliver’s low rumble of approval told her he liked it.

“Should I tie you up like this, dove?”

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