Page 39 of Kiss the Villain

And now, he’s sitting on my thighs, his weight not allowing me to budge as he lifts my hoodie. I shiver as his knuckles brush against my abs.

“Let’s get these out of the way.” He retrieves a knife from his drawer of nightmares, and holds it close to my stomach, hovering it over the skin.

It’s another of his intimidation techniques—it doesn’t work, and I’m not scared.

I’m apprehensive, though, because I can feel the drug working its way through my veins.

The drugs I bought to humiliate him might be my downfall now, and once again, I have no way out.

The desperation is new, and I only feel it around this motherfucker. For that, I want to gouge his eyes out and slurp them the fuck out of their sockets.

His knife game stops as he starts to cut my hoodie right down the middle. Leisurely. Taking his damn sweet time. “See, this is what I like about you, Carson. You’re not easily ruffled, and you have an impressive door-slam technique. You can patiently wait until the discomfort is over and you also don’t rush plotting revenge. It’s why you only broke into my house after observing me properly. But that repulsive rapist habit of yours can’t go unpunished.”

“You’re the fucking rapist?—”

The words die in my throat when he lays the knife flat on my lips.

“Quiet. I told you, didn’t I? Your voice is off-putting.” He runs his knuckles over my throat, then down my chest, and I stiffen. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps using all these rapey drugs. I’m only indulging in your little fucked-up fetish by overturning the power you love so much. Doesn’t feel too good when you’re the one being toyed with, does it?”

I think I hear an edge to his rough, deep voice, but I can’t look at him straight. Not when my skin catches fire. Every inch he touches burns, a sick feeling rushing to my groin.

Fuck. No.

Not again.

Absolutelynot.

He slides the tip of his finger across my nipple and I jerk, a zap settling at the base of my stomach.

“Getting sensitive?” He glides his finger over my nipple again and again, and to my dismay, it bunches up, getting harder. His finger sends another tingle down my spine and all the way to my balls.

And I hate that I find it pleasurable.

That his touch, something I despise to my very core, is causing a sensation I’ve never felt before.

A groan rips out of me, but it’s muffled beneath the blade.

“No skin crawling yet. If anything, you love this a bit too much. Hmm. You’re just a natural slut.” There’s a mocking edge to his tone as he pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it hurts.

But that pain does something unexpected.

Like when he squashed my dick beneath his shoe.

Jesus fuck.

Just when I’m hoping he doesn’t notice, Kayden removes the blade from my mouth and trails it down to my jeans and the tent forming there. “Youdolove this. What a seasoned whore.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that your way of asking for my help?”

“Don’t touch me,” I say, but my voice is hoarse and it sounds like a moan, because he’s still playing with my nipples, alternating, pinching, and rubbing

My head grows dizzy as I practically leak into my boxers.

What the fuck?—

“Your mouth and body sing a different tune, little monster.” He cuts through the waistband of my jeans, then puts the knife on the nightstand and lowers my pants and boxers enough to release my hardening cock.

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