Page 116 of Kiss the Villain

I’ve been really fucked by Kayden.

I search for the part of me that should regret this, but there’s nothing. I can’t even pretend I hated it, not even slightly. If anything, it feels like a pivotal moment in my life.

He walks into the bathroom and comes back with a warm wet towel, then starts to wipe his cum off my ass.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, wiggling against the ropes. “Untie me and I’ll do it myself.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that, and I’m telling you to drop it. Learn to let me take care of you.” He slaps my ass cheek, and I jolt, my spent dick twitching.

“I don’t want you to take care of me. I’m a grown fucking adult.”

“Language.”

“Just don’t do it. It makes me feel weird.”

“Because you’re not used to it, but you will. With time.”

“No, I won’t.”

“We’re not having a conversation. I’m telling you that’s what will happen and that’s that.” His voice drips with quiet authority. “Got it?”

I glare at him.

He ignores me and continues his task. Kayden is surprisingly gentle when he wipes me up, almost too gentle. It’s giving me the creeps.

I let my head drop onto the pillow, screwing my eyes shut. I tell myself it’s so I don’t look at him treating me like that.

Like no one has ever done before.

And, actually, I don’t…I don’t hate it per se.

I’m soon floating to sleep, feeling so sedated and goddamn tired.

“Sleepyhead,” I hear him mutter as he unties my wrists and rubs them softly for a while.

He really is treating me so gently for someone who has no qualms about hurting me. But I guess I hurt him, too, with the drugs and tasering and knifing.

Besides, he thinks I’m sleeping so I don’t have to put up a front.

After finishing with my wrists, I feel something being pulled from beneath me. The messed-up sheets, probably, and the pillow I wet with my saliva is also replaced, and then he disappears for a while, and when he comes back, his fingers rub something cool on my ass.

A soft whine slips out of my lips as the marks burn, but he taps the skin, carefully lathering it with what I assume is ointment.

The gentle rhythm lulls me into a deeper sleep, and I barely make out a warm duvet being placed on top of me.

As I float and float into that white room, I hear his voice laced with a touch of darkness. “What the fuck am I going to do with you now?”

19

KAYDEN

I’ve spent the past however many hours smoking.

Whole packs.

I’m almost out of cigarettes, but the nicotine rush did nothing to expel the agitation gnawing at my goddamn sanity.

The cold air bites into my skin as I stand on the balcony in nothing but pajama bottoms. But it’s not cold enough, not uncomfortable enough. Nothing is enough to make me loathe what I did a few hours ago.

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