Page 64 of The Heart of a Villain

“And why do you care so much, princess, what I believe?” His arms wrap around me, and I place my splayed palms on him, his heartbeat matching mine while I refuse to acknowledge the fire spreading in my veins that’s more than just fury. “Now you know your father is powerful. Maybe he’ll even kill me, and all this”—he swirls his finger in the air—“will be nothing but a bad dream you’ll forget once you marry a dashing prince.”

“Is that what you want? For me to fall for a prince once this is over?” I throw back at him and gasp when his hold on me only tightens, our bodies practically merged together while his other hand travels to my hair, fisting it hard and tilting my head back. “Is it?”

“Why do you care, Aileen?” Possessiveness and anguish coat his question while his green eyes fill with passion and danger, as if he’s restraining himself from staking his claim on me all over again. “Why?”

“Because I will never forgive you if you hurt my father.” I swallow, a raspy breath slipping past my lips when he leans even closer, the wind rattling the balcony door while thunder echoes in the night. “At the end of your revenge, no matter the outcome, I will be the one who loses. Either my dad or you.”

My admission hangs between us, almost torn from my heart, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see his smirk or victory at the knowledge that I did the unthinkable.

Fell for a man who intends to kill my father.

I don’t even understand how that is possible. Shouldn’t love come at you slowly, as you judge the actions of a person, and then choose them as your life partner?

Something I had with Pierre. He was kind, gentle, always there for me, and my family loved him. He was patient too and never, ever hurt me physically or mentally. In fact, I think I was the one who bruised him in our relationship because I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Love.

And Rush?

He’s selfish, cruel, and overbearing, thinks he has some kind of claim on me, and his heart… his heart is bruised in ways it doesn’t even seek or hope for love.

It just accepts it’s unfortunate fate to exist in darkness, where a woman can stay with you only if she has to, but never because she wants to, for who would sign up for such a life, right?

“Don’t,” he warns as if reading my mind. “Don’t, princess.” His scent envelops me while his lips brush against mine. “I’m trying to do the only good thing I’ve ever done. Don’t fall for me.”

“Why?” I whisper my question, and he groans at it, his eyes darkening when he rubs his lips back and forth, tingling sensations rushing through me while my body awakens to his touch. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll ruin you.” And that’s all the warning I get before he slams his mouth on mine.

His fingers scratch my scalp as he arches my neck and dwells deep, his tongue seeking mine and demanding for it to meet his stroke for stroke while driving me insane with every brush, sending arrows of desire through my veins and cutting off my oxygen supply.

And I willing give up the right to breathe if it means indulging in this carnal pleasure that dumps me into the scorching fire threatening to destroy me.

His mouth moves roughly against mine, the raw kiss matching the wind rattling the walls around us while his hard chest presses into me, and he captures my moan in his throat when his chest brushes against my pointed nipples, sensitive even through the dress.

Of their own accord, my palms slide up to his neck, locking on his nape, and we both gulp for breath, watching one another in the moon and candlelight as lighting strikes again, only to groan before diving for yet another all-consuming kiss.

We sway to the side, his strong arms enveloping me whole, and right in this moment it feels as if nothing can separate us because he’d never allow such a thing.

Only that’s an illusion, isn’t it?

Because he won’t be able to save me from the inevitable heartbreak, not that it stops me.

The kiss turns sensual. He drinks from my mouth leisurely while his hot hands settle on my waist, clenching the flesh, and a tremor rushes down my spine along with excitement.

Every woman in this world should experience what it feels like to be kissed by a man like Rush, so possessively and skillfully you think you’re the only woman on this earth.

He hisses when I bite on his tongue, hating the idea of anyone else touching him, but I quickly lick over it before linking us in yet another duet.

By how passion ignites my blood, it’s a wonder I don’t come just from the kiss alone.

He spins me around, the air hitching in my throat when I feel his cold fingers brush against my nape when he slides them down to the zipper of my dress. “You’re a forbidden temptation that is impossible to resist, Aileen.” He slowly pulls at the zipper, his voice barely above a whisper akin to the poison slowly polluting my mind, for it’s so mesmerizing and beautiful it will lead me to my downfall.

And the worst part about it?

I’ll gladly go there if it entails being with him and I think for the first time since coming to this island I willingly succumb to this desire reigning between us, similar to the storm outside, the passion of nature and ours colliding in the most unexpected way.

My heartbeat speeds up at the agonizingly slow pull, the dress slowly coming loose around me, and the straps fall to my shoulders, creating a frenzy in me in the anticipation of his next move while his hot breath fans my skin, sending hot flashes through my system. “I hate it. This deep need to possess you.” Another pull, the sound of zipper incredibly loud in the otherwise silent space interrupted occasionally with our raspy breathing. “Do you want to know why?” He asks the question in a way that makes me want to shake my head and tell him no because it’ll probably be catastrophic to my heart.

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