Page 21 of The Villain's Beloved (The Villain's Duet 2)

I snaked my hands around her waist, cupping her ass, lifting her on her toes, pushing her against my hardened cock. “Turn around.”

She stilled and inched back, but I pulled her closer, forcing her to take my tongue. It fucking burned inside me, my blood nothing but flames that scorched my veins.

A growl vibrated from my throat as I reached up, fisting her wet curls between my fingers, tugging hard as I licked down her jaw. “I said turn the fuck around.”

It was so easy for me to pluck the towel from her body while I forced her to turn, giving me the splendid view of her naked back, that enticing curve that trailed down toward her firm ass.

I bit my lip thinking of all the fucks I didn’t give in that moment—my mind and body completely consumed with this woman.

My hands settled on her waist, her skin hot even though her body trembled. “If I had my way, you’d walk around naked every minute of every goddamn day.” I eased her forward, toward the window that looked out at the wintery scene of the city of Rome. “I would have you thoroughly fucked, that cunt of yours possessed with a permanent ache to remind you who you belong to.”

A soft whimper brushed past her lips, and she reached up, weaving her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. I palmed her breast—round, firm, her nipple hard and begging to be sucked.

“Elijah,” she whispered as I brought her one step away from the window, “people will see.”

“Let them.” I wiped her wet curls from her shoulder, peppering wet kisses along the flesh of her neck. “While most men would gouge out the eyes of those who see their women naked and panting while getting fucked, I want every goddamn man out there to watch me fuck you. I want them to see your body quiver as I pound into you, witness how your body surrenders to me as my cock fills your cunt.” Another nudge and her body was flush against the cold window. The sound of her gasp made my dick twitch and my balls ache.

Reaching between us, I unzipped my pants, fisting my length as I dragged the tip against her naked ass, down the slit, dipping between her thighs, groaning as her arousal coated my cock. Slick. Warm. My ultimate fucking undoing.

“I wonder how many people are out there now, watching us,” I rasped against her ear. “I want every fucking man and woman in this entire sick, twisted, fucked-up world to know you belong to me. That this pussy,” I jerked her hips back and plunged into her without warning, her warm breath misting the glass as she cried out, “is mine. Just mine.” I pulled out of her entirely before slamming back into her, and she placed her palms against the window as another moan escaped her.

Consumed with her heat tightly gripping my cock, I shed the skin of a lover and embraced the instincts of a goddamn animal. Primal. Starved. Ready to be sated.

Leaning back, I looked down to where I entered her, my cock disappearing inside her, slipping out and glistening with her slick lust wrapped around my length like motherfucking silk. Jesus—the sight alone had me heading to the edge way too fucking fast.

“Do you know what you’re worth, Charlotte?” I bit out, chained with toxic lust—an angered hunger that took control of my body. “Do you know what I’m willing to do to keep you?”

“No.” She whimpered, but she was lying. It was there in the slight tenor of confidence in her voice, her willingness to play her role perfectly for me. Her role as prey.

I bit my bottom lip, fisting her hair and forcing her face harder against the glass. I stilled inside her, and her hips swayed as her body demanded the decadent friction of my cock against her inner walls.

My hand gripped her hip, keeping her from moving. “You are worth a thousand last breaths. A million fucking slit throats. That’s what I’ll do for you, my sweet cellist,” I rasped against her ear and licked down her neck. “I will kill every man who merely thinks he can desire you, touch you, kiss you…fuck you as I do.”

“Please, Elijah,” she pleaded. “I need you to move.”

“I know you do.” I inched back, easing out of her, giving her just the tip. “But I like you like this. I like to see you crave my cock, desperately wanting to get fucked.” I tightened my grip on her hair. “Hurt, and used.”

“Please.” She tried to move against me, tried to force my dick inside her, but I inched back even more, loving the torture I inflicted on her willing body and needy cunt.

“Look out the window. How many people do you think are watching us right now? Looking at your tits squeezed against the windows, your naked body brushing against the glass.” A tremor wracked through her as I eased back inside her, little by little, allowing her pussy to wrap around my length. “I wonder how many men are jerking off right now while imagining it’s them fucking you. How many women wish they were you, getting fucked.”

“That’s the problem,” she whispered, trying to glance at me over her shoulder, a glint of defiance in her irises. “I’m not getting fucked right now…am I?”

A growl ripped from my throat as angered lust wrapped around my cock, the throbbing ache forcing me to spear inside her so fucking hard, she cried out and swallowed her own motherfucking words.

My thrusts started slow, but deep. Real fucking deep, my cock buried to the hilt inside her. Thrust after thrust, the ecstasy intensified, every muscle in my body wrapped in a goddamn vise, demanding a release. But I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to be inside her for the rest of my motherfucking life—live in the paradise I could only find between her legs.

I let go of her hair and slammed my hands next to hers on the window, my palms flush against the glass as I cocooned her. “Tell me, Charlotte,” I thrust deep and hard, lifting her on her dainty fucking toes, “would you worship next to me in Heaven? Or rule alongside me in hell?”

“Hell.” She breathed, answering without hesitation. “I’m going to hell with you.”

Jesus fucking Christ, that was the last push I needed to ram me over the edge, my climax ripping my goddamn body apart as I spilled my seed into her.

She cried out as she came with me, our cum gushing down her thighs and ruining my Armani suit pants in the process. But I couldn’t care less, the sound of her pleasure and the sight of her rapid breaths clouding the windows worth far more. It was fucking priceless, seeing her like this. Jaded and out of control—a stark contradiction to the controlled woman I’d watched for years, seeking perfection as she played the cello. This was what made her mine, the fact that I got the version of her no one had ever seen.

The Charlotte Moore no one would ever have the pleasure of seeing.

No one…but me.

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