Page 63 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

“Once this is all over,” he rolled his hips, slipping his cock inside me without fully thrusting in deep, “I’m going to make you my wife, Charlotte.”

My blood ran cold, my heart no longer racing, but pounding as if it wanted to break free.

“I’m going to make you mine in every way fucking possible.” He plunged into me, hard, my feet lifting off the ground, wiping my thoughts of anything but my own search for pleasure. Wrapping his fist in my hair, he pulled my head back, causing my body to arch as I lifted my hips. I tried to spread my legs as wide as I could without losing the height he needed to penetrate me, to thrust as deeply as possible. “And once you’re my wife,” his hand slipped from my breast, his palm flat on my stomach, “I’m going to plant my seed inside you. Create a life inside your belly.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whimpered, out of breath, his primal words causing the flames to erupt, threatening to burn me to fucking ash right there.

I gripped the rail tight, pushing my hips out, wanting—no, needing to be fucked by him. His fingers bit into my waist, and his growl echoed through the morning breeze as he pistoned in and out of me, one relentless, hurried thrust at a time.

It was surreal. Unexplainable. The way we unleashed our most primal desires whenever we were together like this—as if society’s bounds no longer had a hold on us as we delved deeper and deeper into the darkness. I no longer cared if I lost myself—lost my way. All I cared about was this, us, how we so effortlessly succumbed to one another, bathing in the sin that had the power to drown us both.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped behind me, out of breath and consumed with lust.

Without thinking twice, I reached between my legs, my arousal gushing down my thighs, coating my fingers as I touched my clit.

My breaths morphed into whimpers, until I panted with my lips parted, my fingers stroking through my sensitive folds. Elijah pumped his cock into me—harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin—it was utter madness, chaos, sweet anarchy as both of us chased the release we needed to come down from the high that threatened to suffocate us.

Pleasure exploded, and I came violently, my screams rippling across the open waters. Elijah followed, his cock throbbing inside me as he came, his growls and labored breaths carrying my orgasm until I could no longer stand.

My legs buckled beneath me, and both of us collapsed into a giant puddle of spent lust and lingering ecstasy.

Elijah wrapped his arms around me and scooted me against his chest, and we sat there for the longest time, nothing but the waves and seagulls disturbing the serene silence around us.

I knew I was lost since the first night he claimed me. I knew there was no way back for me, not after I had tasted the bittersweetness of sin with this man. Not after he had awakened this side of me that craved the erotic depravity only he could offer me. The Bernardi family no longer mattered. The whole story surrounding my grandfather and how my life was in danger no longer mattered. All that mattered to me was him. Being with him. Belonging to him. God, when did everything become so distorted? Fractured? As if the life I had lived until now was nothing but a glass cage waiting to be shattered.

But I didn’t know or understand the extent of how deep I had fallen down this rabbit hole with Elijah. Not until he scooted up against the barrier, winding an arm around my waist and placing his palm against my belly, saying the words that slammed ice against my chest. “Who knows, my little cellist, maybe my seed has already started to bloom inside you.”

And that was the moment the Earth gave way beneath my feet.

---