Page 62 of The Villain
My jaw ticks. I stare into shadowed green eyes I thought I knew. We are drawing a line in the sand, Jet and me.
He shoves me backward and glances at Allegra, then back at me.
He snorts, shakes his head. “Fine. Fucking fine. You chose this. Remember that,” he says with anaccusing finger pointing at me before he stalks away. I watch him go, watch his back as he walks down the center aisle toward the door, his steps echoing off the stone floor.
Allegra watches him go. I turn to her and when she shifts her gaze to me, her eyes are full of betrayal. I walk around the table, push her knees apart as she sits up, her hands flat against my chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asks.
I grip the back of her head and kiss her even as she pushes against me, even as she uses her teeth to draw blood. It always comes down to blood.
“You’re not his,” I say and I’m not sure if I’m telling her or myself. “You are not his.” I kiss her harder, smashing my mouth against hers.
“I’m not yours either.”
I snort. “Oh, but you are. You are so very mine.”
Her breaths are pants, her knees pressed to my sides. She doesn’t want to want this. Hell, I don’t want to want this. But I do. We both do.
And I’ll have her the only way I can. The only way I should.
I lay her back, leaning over her, kissing her still. She pulls at my shirt, buttons popping, nails clawing and when she can’t unbutton it, she pushes it aside and brings her hands to my skin. I draw back to tear my shirt off, our eyes locked, our breaths gasps as I lay her back down, leaning over her to reach for the bottle of olive oil that’s knocked over, that’s spilling out onto the stone floor.
Her hands are undoing my belt, my pants. Her knees are wide, feet pressed to the edge of the altar. She takesme out and I pour olive oil onto my hand and slide it between her legs, feeling her wet, wanting pussy, dipping my fingers inside before sliding them to that other hole.
She’s confused at first, blinks up at me.
I take one knee and push it back and look down at her, at her wet, gaping pussy, her tiny asshole. I meet her gaze and push one slippery, oily finger inside that hole.
Allegra’s mouth opens on a gasp. “Cassian,” she breathes.
I let out a groan, feeling her heat around my finger. I bend my head to lick her pussy, use my teeth on her clit as I slide a second finger into her ass.
“I fucking… God. I fucking hate you.” Her fingers are pulling at my hair as she raises her pussy up into my face.
I draw back. Not yet. Not yet. I meet her eyes as I slide my hand over my cock, lubricating it before bringing it to her asshole.
She pants hard, eyes panicked, understanding how I’m going to take her.
“Push against me,” I tell her, because I need to be inside her, and I don’t want to hurt her and I can’t fuck her pussy. I can’t risk it. “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard you forget how much you hate me,” I tell her, pushing the head of my cock into her tight entrance.
“I will never forget that,” she says, gripping my arms, nails digging in to draw blood, her eyes going wide.
“Then don’t forget. Hate fuck me.” I play with her clit as I push deeper into her.
She cries out, but holds on to me.
Fuck. She’s so tight, so fucking tight.
She has her eyes squeezed shut and I imagine it hurts. She’s a virgin here too, of that I’m sure.
I pour more oil onto my cock, which is a third of the way in. “Look at me, Allegra. Open your eyes and look at me. Fuck. Glare at me. Show me how much you fucking hate me.”
She opens her eyes and does just that.
“Did you like him looking at you?” I ask, watching her, playing with her clit again.
“Did you like him watching me?” she hisses. “Is that what you’re punishingmefor?” She bites her lip trying to swallow back a moan of pleasure-pain, her passage opening to me as she’s more and more aroused.
