Page 38 of Kiss the Villain

“A definitive.”

“Nothing is definitive, Carson. You study law. You should know better.”

“You teach law. You should know better than to breach it so blatantly.”

“But that’s the whole point of learning law—it’s easier to get around the loopholes and violate it. But you already know that.”

There’s an undertone to his words I can’t quite decipher. His eyes stare deeper into me, attempting to penetrate the fabric of my soul and seep into a part not meant for the public.

A part even I stopped venturing into.

A buzz ignites my skin, and I hate it. I hate the feel of his fucking hand on me. It’s supposed to feel disgusting, not create this low hum that trickles down my spine.

“Stop touching me,” I say in a clear voice, as clear as I can manage. “I’m not into men.”

“I’m not into men either.” He rotates my head to the side. “But something about this pretty face makes me want to decorate it with my cum.”

I clench my teeth because now I’m remembering his cock pulsing in my mouth as he looks down on me.

The image of him coming down my throat makes me murderous.

But I flinch every time his skin rubs mine, gliding over the heated flesh like an ancient potent curse. Sweat trickles down my back, and my hoodie sticks to it.

Heat builds beneath my flesh, a slow burn that spreads through my chest, making it impossibly hard to breathe. My skin starts to prickle, the warmth intensifying with every second, and every inch of space is charged with something I can't control.

Fuck.

I hate not being in control. Loathe it.

Despise it.

I need to leave.

Now.

“Not into men?” I smile, changing tactics. “You’re so gay, you’ve been fantasizing about me since you saw me, Professor. Not to mention that you were so jealous about the whole Yulian thing. You’d have a better chance with him than me. I can help if you let me go.”

I won’t. If anything, I’ll only use the Yulian angle to hurt him further, but I’ll make him believe that just so he’ll give up.

“Oh, youwillhelp.” He shoves me on the bed and then he’s on top of me, his hard thighs pressing on either side of my waist, and he straddles my legs, pinning me to the mattress.

“Not like this.” I push at his chest.

“Then like what?”

“With Yulian, idiot.”

“Why would I wait for that when I have you under my thumb, wiggling powerlessly like a helpless fucking worm?”

I raise my fist and punch him. Maybe it’s the drug that’s making me lose my inhibitions, or maybe I’ve just wanted to break his jaw for a while now.

Because I bark out a laugh and say in my most condescending tone, “You truly disgust me like I’ve never been disgusted before. The idea of you touching me makes my skin fucking crawl.”

Something flashes in his gaze before it quickly fades away. “Seems I have to test just how much I disgust you, then.”

He reaches into his side drawer and pulls out black ropes. I’m wondering why the fuck he has ropes in his damn nightstand, but those thoughts vanish when he yanks both my wrists up and secures them to the metal headboard.

The motion is so quick and effortless, I can’t stop it no matter how much I wiggle. When he’s done, I can barely move my hands. He’s tied them so tight, the rope digs into my skin.

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