Page 77 of Villainous Intent

His hand clamped over my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin, as he forced my head around.

The smug, mocking curve of his mouth vanished the second he saw my face. His eyes dropped to the wet track on my cheek, darkening instantly.

I tried to jerk my head away but his grip tightened.

“What the fuck did he do to you?” The amusement was gone, replaced by an edge that promised immediate violence.

“He didn’t do anything,” I spat, finally wrenching my chin out of his grasp. My skin burned where his fingers had been.

“What happened, Annie?” He crowded me against the railing, refusing to back down.

“Leave me alone.”

“No.” The word was flat. Absolute. “What. Happened.”

“He called me pretty!” I hissed. “He said I was pulled together. He praised me for having no drama, for being a perfectionist, for keeping my life neatly organized and not having messy emotions!”

“He was going to kiss me,” I continued, my voice cracking. “He asked for permission with his eyes, and he was going to be sweet, and I couldn’t do it! Because I don’t want to be that person all the fucking time!” I slammed my palms against his chest, my breathing ragged. “I have to be perfect every single day, and I can’t stand that you know exactly how broken I am. I can’t stand that you’re just fucking toying with me!”

I stood there, trembling, my chest heaving as the damp fog began to overtake the rooftop. I waited for the mocking laughter, I waited for him to dissect my pathetic outburst.

He took my face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping over my cheekbones.

I panicked and twisted my head, thrashing against his hold. He dropped his hands from my face and caught my wrists, pinning my arms between our bodies. I was immobilized as he brought his mouth to mine.

I braced for violence but his lips brushed mine with agonizing, deliberate care. It was soft and slow. It was the best goddamn kiss of my entire life.

Every single nerve ending in my body ignited, sparking with need. Finley had offered me this exact gentle pressure, and it had made my skin crawl. Yet with Cipher, the softness was a devastating weapon. I wanted this. I wanted him. The realization shattered me and I tore my mouth away, gasping for air.

“Stop,” I choked out, tears burning my eyes again. “Stop being so fucking cruel to me.”

The absolute stillness returned to him. He released my wrists, snatching my hand before I could pull it back. He dragged my palm down and pressed it flat against the front of his pants.

I gasped, my fingers curling against the thick ridge of his erection. His silver eyes were wild, stripped of all their usual arrogant calculation.

“I am a liar, Annie,” he rasped. “I am a manipulator. I am fucking cruel. But I am not lying to you about this. I want you.”

Something inside me snapped. I was so goddamn tired of feeling the madness alone. I pressed my palm harder against his length, rubbing over the bulge.

Cipher sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.

Emboldened by the sound, I reached for his belt. I flicked the metal buckle open and popped the button of his pants. He slammed both of his hands onto the stone railing on either side of my hips as I slid my hand past the zipper, pushing beneath the edge of his underwear. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, marveling at the impossible size of him. He was huge, the skin smooth and burning hot over iron-hard flesh. I stroked my hand up the thick column of his shaft.

“Fuuuck,” Cipher swore, his head dropping back.

I dragged my thumb directly over the slick head of his cock and a shudder ripped through him. I reached up with my free hand, tangling my fingers in his dark hair, and pulled his mouth back down to mine. I kissed him like he had just kissed me, keeping the rhythm just as soft and lazy as the slow, agonizing strokes of my hand wrapped around his length.

After all of his torment in the lab, I wanted to strip away the arrogant billionaire and the untouchable Villain, leaving only the raw, desperate man underneath.

Cipher’s hips jerked forward, thrusting into my hand and pinning me tighter against the stone. His breathing fractured, breaking into harsh, ragged gasps. The sound of his loss of control fed the ache pulsing between my thighs.

I pumped my hand faster, twisting my wrist. I poured every ounce of my frustration and my twisted desire into the motion. I milked him, determined to make him feel the exact same overwhelming helplessness he constantly forced on me.

“Annie,” he choked out.

I stroked him harder, faster.

His muscles tensed. A deep groan began to rumble in his chest. He was right there. I could feel him swelling beneath my fingers. I could feel the exact moment his iron-clad control began to shatter.