Page 78 of Kiss the Villain

“If that were the case, shouldn’t I have been singing your praises as well?”

His lips part, and he narrows his eyes, clearly contemplating the meaning behind my words. “Why…didn’t you?”

“Is that important?”

“My opening statement wasn’t bad. It was clearly better than hers.”

“That’s debatable.”

“No, it’s not! You were just playing favorites.” His pupils dilate and a manic look slips into his eyes, darkening them faster than an eclipse. “Is Zara that good at sucking cock?”

“I wouldn’t know, considering she probably prefers women. She’s got a thing for that girl who’s always clinging to you and begging for your attention like a low-rent whore. Maybe you’d notice the way Jones looks at you with pure envy if you weren’t so pathologically self-absorbed.”

His grip loosens a bit and that calculating look rushes to his eyes, making them a darker green.

Rainy forest green.

Dead green.

He probably comes to the same conclusion as he connects patterns. Jones is so obvious that anyone with little analytical skills could tell. It’s a pity she’s crushing over a dumb girl, but smart people are usually stupid as fuck in these types of situations.

“Finished with the jealousy fit, baby?” I ask with a grin.

Carson’s fingers tighten again, so hard, I cough, my airways closing and my lungs burning.

“I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not your baby!”

“Whatever…you…want…baby…” I battle to speak every word.

“This fucking…” He rolls the stool and shoves my head against the counter, the sharp sting reverberating in my skull, but I’m smiling up at him.

At his harsh breaths, his rising and falling chest as he leans close with that manic look in his eyes.

I love it.

The loss of control.

The confusion.

The chaotic fucking mania.

Honestly, he could kill me—maybe even by accident—but none of it matters when his strawberry-laced breath fans across my face, brushing against my lips like a forbidden whisper.

“Who else sucks your limp dick, Kayden?”

My vision blurs at the edges, but I reach out a hand and grab his face. He tries to pull away, his mouth falling open, but I tug him close and feast on those lips.

I shouldn’t.

Kissing him is a boundary I’m not supposed to cross.

But fuck if I care.

I thrust my tongue inside his mouth before he can clamp his teeth shut, then slurp the remnants of strawberry off his tongue. I’ve never cared that much about the fruit, but now, mixed with him, it’s an aphrodisiac that shoots straight to my balls.

He shakes, my little monster. He’s losing all fucking control, shuddering like a goddamn leaf as a small noise escapes him.

And I use that noise to fucking devour him.

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