Page 59 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

A sharp pain shot across my chest hearing her say my little sister’s name.

“It’s different when it comes to children who can’t defend themselves,” she continued. “I’m a grown woman, strong enough to carry my own cross.” She gazed up at the ceiling as she folded an arm across her breasts.

“I told you,” I took her arm and eased it down her side, “do not hide yourself from me.”

She huffed, blowing a stray curl from her face, and I leaned in, smoothing my lips against hers, beckoning for her to open for me. Our tongues danced, slow and sensual, allowing me to savor her taste, committing it to memory. My fingers stroked up her arm, leisurely making their way over the swell of her breast, drawing lazy circles around her pebbled nipple. “Play for me.”

Her eyes studied me as she bit her bottom lip, the silver-blue of her irises reminding me of a cloudy sky in May. I half expected her to counter my request, knowing she found it hard to play while someone watched. But instead, she nodded, and my body hummed with the anticipation of hearing her play.

I sat up on my elbow, palming her breast before taking her rosebud nipple in my mouth, gently sucking while teasing with the tip of my tongue. My cock stirred to life, and by the way her back arched, pushing her tit deeper into my mouth, I knew she was ready for me again. The sheets smelled like sex and cum, fused with the scent of her skin.

I wanted to take her again. Claim her. Fuck her until my name was carved on her bones and inscribed on her fucking soul. There had to be no doubt about who she belonged to, who owned her. And I wanted her to be reminded of that every goddamn day, living a life where not a single day passed without me being inside her at least once.

But right now, I needed her to play for me. I let go of her nipple with a pop, and a moan brushed past her lips. “Soon,” I promised as she stared at me with disappointment swirling in her eyes. “But first, you’re going to play for me.”

“Why?” she whimpered, clenching her thighs, fighting the lust.

Wanting to tease her some more, I reached down and dragged a finger through her soaking slit. “Because I need to be that man again.” I touched her clit. “The man who watches you play, a witness to your most vulnerable moments.”

---