Page 39 of Villainous
Normally, I would punish her for speaking without asking, but right now, I’m not in the mood to be more pissed off than I already am. And who am I kidding—Maya hasn’t followed one goddamn rule I placed on her. If she were any other pet, I would have punished her severely. But the frown on her heart-shaped face tells me she has a lot on her mind. She needs to make it quick because as soon as she’s done telling me what she wants, I’ll fuck her really good and make her come on my tongue and on my dick, and then I’m going to go to sleep.
I stop dead in my tracks and lift my eyebrow. “Are you waiting for the world to stop turning? Spit it out.”
Nervousness beams into her eyes as she rocks back and forth on her heels. “I read your letters.”
“What letters?” I ask, losing the blood-red tie around my neck.
She stands in front of me with her hands on her hips, tilting her head up. My eyes veer down to her short, tan legs, and I form my hand into a ball and resist the urge to bite my fist.
“The ones you wrote me after I left. You wrote me for two months.”
I forgot I kept those letters; I haven’t seen them in so many years. Writing to her was therapeutic to me, and I was hoping to find some closure from her. I was waiting for her to come back. Draco and Polina were pissed off because they wanted me to marry one of her cousins, and I turned them down. When I attended North Haven University, I was glad to get away from home, to get away from the abuse. During that year, I didn’t even touch a woman because I thought she would come back to me. I thought she was playing a sick joke or punishing me for something I did. I was going to punish her for it, but I would have taken her back, and we would have moved on like nothing happened. Being hopeful will only lead you to a false dream. My dream was to be with her, and back then, I would have given up everything to be with her, but now, I want her out of my hair and away from me. I can’t stand being near her because I hate and love her at the same time. Her reading those letters is only going to make things worse for us because it brings back a time where I felt truly broken by her. It was the reality to me that she was never going to come back, and if I hadn’t kidnapped her, then she wouldn’t be in my present right now.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why were you snooping through my shit?”
“Because I was so bored, and I didn’t have shit to do. What else am I supposed to do?” She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t see the extent of how much I hurt you. I didn’t know Polina tried to abuse you after I left. I wish I could have protected y—”
I take a step back, putting some distance between us. If I go apeshit on her, then I’m going to lose my temper, and I’ll go too far if I put my hands on her. I swear, this little woman can bring out enough rage inside of me to become feral.
“Enough, Maya. You’re going to be punished for going through my things. You h—”
“I didn’t know you were calling my mother! I had no idea she told you I didn’t want you anymore. I want to work things out with you. I want to te—”
I laugh like a hyena. “You think I would even consider being with you after how you left me? After you broke my heart? Thanks to you, I’ll never do the whole relationship bullshit again. You’re my pet. Repeat what I told you when I took you from the dungeon.”
“Vil—”
“I said, repeat.”
Tears gloss over her eyes, and her face turns a shade of pink. “When I take you out of the cell, I want answers about how you left me, and you’re my pet. I will fuck you any way I want, and you will serve me. Whatever I want you to do, you will do it.”
“You need a dose of reality. Drop to your knees.”
“Villainous!”
I remove my belt from my pants, holding it in front of her face. “You drop to your knees, and you suck my dick. Or I’ll beat your ass until you turn blue.”
Her knees hit the marble, and she unbuttons my pants, then unzips them. Her eyes wander to me and humiliation flickers in them. She yanks out my dick, which is semi-hard, and wraps her mouth around it, licking the head.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Keep doing that, babe.”
I throw my head back and moan as I feel the blood rush through the veins of my dick. I get hard in her mouth, and my heart rate beats faster than a drum.
When I push her down onto my dick, she gags, and tears stream down her cheeks. I keep shoving her onto me, hitting the back of her throat as ecstasy takes over me. My dick contracts, and my cum sprays on her tongue before I pull out and zip up my pants.
“Get rid of the idea of us ever getting back together because it won’t happen. You think I can go back to loving you after you abandoned me without a word? You think because I still have feelings for you I’m going to roll over and be your fucking lapdog again like I was all those years ago? The person you knew when we were in high school is long fucking gone. So get out of your feelings, and stop feeding yourself false hope.”
Without a word, she stands up from the floor, dusting off her knees and glaring at me, and storms out of the living room.
Maya
I toss and turn at night, thinking about what Villainous said and how much of an asshole he is. My feelings are all over the place as I continue to cry. He wants me to forget about us and the way we were back in high school, so from now on, I’m not going to say anything about it. Reading those letters gave me hope, and I shouldn’t have done that. I let my emotions get the best of me. I had every intention of telling him how I felt and about why I left, but we didn’t get to that part, and part of me is relieved I didn’t tell him because it only confirms it doesn’t matter, because I don’t mean shit to him. It would be a waste of time.
Nicotine carried through the nightly breeze lingers from the balcony. He’s outside, having a smoke as he usually does when he thinks I’m not awake. I feel his presence all over even when he’s not near. He’s like an old stench on clothing, where no matter how much you wash them, it’s still there. I want to go to him and hug him and kiss him. I refuse to believe he doesn’t want me anymore. I refuse to believe he doesn’t care about me anymore. Right now, I sound like a desperate woman, begging a man to love me correctly. This is starting to turn into Stockholm syndrome.
He walks in and leans against the doorframe, and my teeth chatter from the cold as he leaves the glass doors open. His eyes meet mine, and there are so many unspoken words between us. His expression is stoic as he exhales deeply.
“This is my last night sleeping in here with you,” he says, taking in my naked form. After the blow job, he didn’t fuck me. He didn’t come after me as I hoped he would. He treated me how he felt about me. My ma always said, “You will always know how a man feels about you after he comes,” and she wasn’t lying.
