Page 56 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

18

I would burnin hell for wanting the devil. But I was too intoxicated to care—drunk on his earthy-sweet scent and high on the taste of him on my tongue.

Elijah hungrily stared at where he touched my bottom lip with his thumb. “Since you don’t respond well to questions, how about I just tell you what my intentions are, what I plan on doing to you? Then you can just nod that pretty little head of yours.” He stepped up close, his naked body a breath away from mine, the tip of his thick length brushing against my stomach. Every move he made dominated my senses, his presence filling every bone in my body that was primed to be taken and used. To be swept away by ecstasy.

He wrapped his palm around his swollen cock, and I looked down, his thumb wiping at a drop of pre-cum before pumping with slow, leisurely strokes. My thighs clenched, my sex throbbing with need, wanting him inside me.

“I’m going to take you, fuck you, make you come so hard it’s going to feel like your body is about to break. And once your first orgasm tears through you, I’m going to fuck you again, feel you from the inside while your slippery heat coats my cock until I cream that sweet cunt of yours, marking you, staking my claim. Now nod.”

I swallowed hard, my body so fucking needy from his words alone, I was sure just a single stroke of his finger would push me over the edge.

He stepped up, my hard nipples brushing against his dark dusting of chest hair, my oversensitive flesh hyperaware of even the slightest touch. “I said nod,” he ordered, his gaze boring into mine.

I nodded, refusing to deny myself the sordid pleasure I sought from this man.

“Get on the bed.”

I inched back, feeling the silk sheets against the back of my knees when he grabbed my wrist.

“Turn around, and get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” It wasn’t a request. It was a demand, an order.

“Why?” My voice was nothing but a whisper.

He let go of his cock and cupped my cheek, gentle, like a lover, and I could smell him, his sex, his dominance. His arousal.

“This is the only reason I won’t be killing the man who had you first.”

I whimpered as he leaned down, his lips brushing gently against mine.

“Because now there’s no need for me to be gentle. I can do what I want to.” He kissed me—no tongue, no open mouth, just a tender kiss. “And right now, I want to fuck you, my sweet, beautiful cellist. Now, be a good girl and turn around. Get on your hands and knees.”

There was a fleeting moment of weakness that passed through me, a moment of hesitation when I doubted myself.

Am I good enough for him?

Am I beautiful enough for him?

Will I be enough for a man like Elijah?

Powerful. Dominant. The kind of man who would have women flocking his way. Yet here he was, a sheen of sweat covering his chest, his eyes hooded and dick hard…for me. A poor girl who had nothing but a broken cello.

“I said get on the bed.” He grabbed my shoulders, spun me around, and forced me onto the bed with cruel, cold hands.

“Elijah—”

“You agreed, Charlotte. I told you, there’s no going back now.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my throat, yet my body yearning for him to do whatever it was he wanted. For him to make my body his playground. I had never been so at war with myself—how my mind fought my body, wanting to deny that which it desired most.

The silks sheets were soft against my palms and knees as I steadied myself, staring straight in front of me at the blue velvet headboard.

“Jesus, Charlotte. If only you could see yourself through my eyes right now. You’re glistening.”

The thought of him staring at me from behind ignited more flames that raged through my core. I had never been so exposed, and I could feel my arousal coat my thighs.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, and I groaned when he dragged a single finger through my slit—slowly, gently, yet the shockwaves it caused were powerful enough to make me arch my back, pushing out my hips, wanting more.

“Look at that.” Again, he slipped a finger through my wetness. “You’re a greedy little cellist, aren’t you?”

---