Page 26 of Villainous
He does one last thrust and pulls out, then unties my hands and turns me around.
“I hate what you do to me,” he whispers in my ear, and I feel his thick fingers stroke my cheek. “I hate how after all these years, you make me feel out of control.”
I have no response to what he says. I feel the same way as him, but I don’t say it out loud. As I stare into his eyes, part of me wants to fall apart. He has a way of making me feel as if he’s the only person I need, and right now, that is not good for my heart.
“Lick my dick clean, little dove. Taste how good you are.”
I drop to my knees as he grabs a fistful of my hair. Slowly, I inch my mouth onto his dick, and he shoves forward with his dick hitting the roof of my mouth. My eyes burn as I suck on the head and stroke his shaft. He grunts, pushing himself deeper in my mouth so I gag.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” His tone is husky.
Once he comes down my throat, my lips make a pop sound as he removes his dick from my mouth. I stand up, and realization sinks in as I put on my clothes. The smell of blood is getting to me, and I want to vomit. My feet burn from the cold cement.
How did I get myself so wrapped up in Villainous? It’s like he cast some spell on me to forget about what happened earlier.
I want to crawl into a hole and die.
“You made me kill that man,” I blurt out. “You’re so cruel.”
He stuffs his dick back into his pants, and he zips up. “There are worse things you can do than kill someone.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe it.”
He kisses the side of my temple, and a shiver trickles down my spine.
“It doesn’t matter what you believe. I remember a little dove once said to me that life isn’t all black and white.”
Maya
Istir awake to Villainous sitting on the bed with a cigarette in his mouth. The smell of nicotine perfumes the air, and I sit up on my knees and French braid my silky hair. He doesn’t have a shirt on, but his pajama pants hang low on his hips. My eyes roam the pale scars on his torso that his da put on him. When I used to ask him how he received those scars, he would simply shrug and say don’t worry about it. But I eavesdropped on his conversation with Devious about Draco beating him with a metal rod.
My cheeks flame as I gawk at his chiseled abs. There is something beautiful in watching a man be his carefree self. His dark, inky hair is sticking up, and he looks like he just rolled out of bed.
I’m still pissed off at him for making me kill Benny, and now I have blood on my hands. It’s his way of having leverage over me. He’ll go to one of his crooked cop friends and pin the murder on me if I don’t fall in line. I’m pissed off that I kind of enjoyed it too. Having Benny’s blood on my hands brought up some sort of power in me, like I was invincible. Does Villainous feel this way when he kills someone? Maybe Villainous is right—I might be like him. I might be a monster. He once told me people often hide who their real selves are because they’re scared of judgment. People always have this dark side lurking within them. Even though I didn’t know Benny, he didn’t need to die by my hands. They’re the only ones who can answer to their god or whatever the hell they believe in for the crimes they committed.
Villainous rests his elbow against the mattress and blows smoke from the corner of his mouth.His jaw tics, and his lips are in a pout. He’s broody, as usual, but Villainous has always been quiet and wrapped up in his own thoughts. Suddenly, I have déjà vu. We’re back in high school, and I came up to his room after his parents had left for vacation, and after sex, we would sit in peaceful silence.
As I shake my head, I bring my thighs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees, inhaling a waft of the smoke in the air. Sometimes, I miss smoking cigarettes, but I kicked the bad habit after I left Villainous.
“Your ex-boyfriend, Chuck, was working as a detective,” he tells me, rubbing his chin. The sound of his voice makes me melt into a puddle of goo.
What? Wait. Is this some kind of sick joke? If so, I’m going to slap the shit out of him. When I don’t respond, he says, “Chuck was working for the NYPD.”
He keeps running his mouth, he’s very close to getting punched in the throat. God, he has no limits in trying to break me.
“You’re lying,” I snap. “You’ll say anything to hurt me.”
He sits up and straightens his spine. “When have you known me to lie to you?”
“That time you told me Berserk told you he didn’t want to go on a date with me to the skating rink and he didn’t have any feelings for me.”
I used to have a crush on him before Villainous told me we were going to be together, and this bastard climbed into my bedroom window and lied to my face. He knew how much I liked his best friend, but he destroyed my relationship with Berserk.
“That was partially true. He didn’t have feelings for you, and it happened when I was sixteen years old.” He shakes his head. “Why would I lie about Chuck working as a cop? I killed him. I have nothing to gain from it.”
I don’t know if I want to believe his words, but when I stare into his eyes, they’re filled with honesty. I’m so in tune with him that I can sense when he’s lying, and even though I want it to be a lie, I know in my heart it’s not. And since Chuck is dead, he doesn’t see him as a threat for him to take me away from him. Villainous always had that issue with people taking me away from him. His parents. My parents. My friends. He always looks at me as something truly valuable, and I didn’t see myself that way.He used to tell me all the time that I was the brightness that lit up his world.
I knit my eyebrows together. “Why would he be investigating me?”
