Page 9 of Villain


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She licked voraciously, pulling back to suck on the tip and swallow the salty moistness before taking him all in again. His hands tightened around her hair, his cock shuddering inside her mouth when she began a quick to-and-fro motion with her head.

“No, Faith. I’m coming inside you.” His voice was like gravel as he boosted her up and pressed her back against the wall. Within seconds, her legs were looped around him, and he was shoving up inside her.

“Yes!” she cried, thrusting her breasts out to him with an arch of her back. He feasted on a nipple, licking and nipping it with his tongue and lips. Then he groaned as he quickened his rhythm, opening his mouth wide around the areole and panting for breath over it.

“Baby,” he rasped, his hips pumping against hers faster. Her head fell back on the wall behind her; her eyes closed as she let him fuck her. She tightened her legs around him to encourage his pace, desperate, hungry sounds spilling from her mouth. Her hands lay on his shoulders, fingers gripping him as she tried to meet each of his thrusts.

In one swift move, he pulled back and flipped her, set her spread eagle against the wall and pressed his cock to her back entrance.

“Every tight, hot inch of you is mine,” he told her, sliding a hand between her legs to palm her pussy and spread her cream all the way back. “If he so much as lays a hand on you—”

“He won’t, Gabriel. I’d die first,” she vowed, splaying her fingers on the wall. “Please, fuck me. Fuck me now.”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, prodding the head of his cock to her ass as he spread her cheeks apart with his hands. “Touch yourself like you do when you think of me.”

She sl

ipped a hand between her legs, the other braced against the wall as he clamped his hands on her hips and plunged his cock inside her. She screamed, one hand fisting on the wall, the other stroking her clit with a fast, shaky finger.

“Is that good?” he asked, pulling out and plunging back in again. “Is that good, baby?”

“Yes! Yes!” She circled her clit, slipping a finger down the moistened cleft of her pussy, up and down, then into the slit.

“Let me help with that.” He snaked one arm around her waist while his other hand skimmed down her pelvis. His fingers brushed over her knuckles, his hand settling firmly over hers, and then his finger followed hers inside her.

Her own lustful cries echoed in her ears as those two fingers penetrated, his cock ruthlessly shafting her from behind.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his coarse breathing hot on her neck. “Tell me it’s me and me alone.”

“Yes, oh, yes!”

She heard his grating cry, felt that last thrust so deep, and let herself follow him.

Stella exploded, her finger moving quickly over her clit as she did. She had not even recovered when his words poured over her soul again.

I need you. Come to me.

Chapter Three

Stella couldn’t stay away. Not when he was calling her. Not when she was burning for him. It was like asking herself to endure a lifetime of torment, of wanting and denying herself. She felt such need she wanted to scream and rip her own heated flesh from her body—she was almost certain it would hurt less.

If it was true that he drove Faith Harrison to her death, he was doing the same to her without even a rope.

That morning she changed into a short, navy blue cotton dress and white cotton panties, forgoing the bra when she discovered it felt painful on her breasts. She helped her mother with her chores, then waited anxiously until the sky was streaked with sunset before heading toward the cave.

Clouds marred the darkening sky, while the air was humid, the soil damp from so much rain. It was eerily calm now that the storm was over, and somehow she preferred the passion of the storm, the sounds of it, more than this calm silence. It was like an unspoken threat, a promise of incoming destruction.

She didn’t find him there. The cave was dark and gloomy, and her voice echoed in her ears as she called his name. The little hairs behind her neck pricked when she heard rustles from inside, then a crow flew out in a flurry of wings, its ungodly screech tearing the breath right out of her.

She walked shakily back to the beach and waited for him, watching the waves roll and crash against the shore. The sound lulled her, and when she closed her eyes and reopened them, an image of his face hovered before her. She began to feel warm, so warm. She slid one hand across the sensitive tips of her breasts and felt the thick rivers of arousal stream down to her panties.

“I told you not to come here again.”

She jumped to her feet, and when she whirled around to face him, felt already short of breath.

“You’ve been following me,” was the first thing she said, “and I want to know why.”

He was staring past her shoulder, at the waves, the horizon; Lord knows what could engross him so.

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