Page 98 of Villainous Intent

“I don’t want to be the reason someone dies,” I whispered. I clawed for the moral high ground, but I was slipping.

Cipher’s eyes hardened. “You aren’t the reason for his death, Annie. Velocity was a grown man who made a fatal error in judgment. He insulted something that belongs to me. The only person responsible for Velocity’s death is Velocity.”

Cipher ghosted his lips from my mouth to my jaw, inhaling deeply at my neck.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he murmured.

“I’m not turned on.” I don’t know why I lied to him. He’d seen through me every time I’d lied so far and this time wouldn’t be any different. But admitting I was turned on by his possessiveness seemed like a really bad idea.

“No?” he challenged softly and sank to his knees.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his perfect, arrogant face hovering inches from my crotch. “And your heart is beating so fast I can see the pulse in your neck.”

I refused to speak because I didn’t know what would come out of my mouth if I did. Seeing him on his knees for me caused every rational thought in my head to go right out the window.

He leaned forward and pressed his face into the curve of my stomach. He inhaled a long, slow drag of air. “You smell like fear,” he murmured against the fabric. “And something much sweeter.”

He turned his head, his cheek rubbing against my stomach. Then he moved lower and buried his face between my thighs and inhaled again.

He pressed his mouth directly against the seam of my leggings, right over the throbbing ache of my clit, and exhaled. The hot breath penetrated the material, scalding the sensitive skin beneath.

It was both too much and not enough.

I whimpered and jerked my hips forward, seeking more pressure, chasing the heat of his mouth.

Cipher growled, a low, animalistic sound. He turned his head slightly, and I felt the scrape of his teeth through the fabric, a grazing bite that promised both violence and pleasure.

“So responsive,” he whispered against me, the words hot and damp on the material. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet, and you’re already ruining your clothes for me.”

“I’m not.” My voice was a whisper even as I tangled my fingers in his dark locks and held him there.

“Liar,” he rasped.

His lips moved against the sensitive nerve endings of my clit and took the fabric and the flesh beneath it between his teeth and gave a tug.

“Cipher,” I choked out. My head fell back, hitting the metal wall with a dull thud. I didn’t know if I was pleading for him to stop or begging him to rip the leggings off.

He released the bite and soothed the spot with a broad sweep of his tongue. The fabric was soaked now and the friction maddening. He settled deeper between my thighs, his shoulders pressed against my inner legs, forcing them wider.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my leggings and dragged them down my thighs until they bunched around my knees, taking my underwear with it.

“Look at you,” he breathed. The words were hot against my inner thigh. “So fucking wet for me.” His tongue swept the length of my pussy in one long, devastating stroke and I stopped breathing altogether. If the wall hadn’t been behind me, I would have collapsed.

“Sweet. So fucking sweet.” He drank me down like a man dying of thirst, licking up the slickness, savoring the taste of my arousal.

He sucked hard on my clit, and my vision blurred. A high, embarrassing sound tore from my throat. My hips jerked, trying to grind against him, desperate for his mouth. I needed him to stop the ache that was hollowing me out.

I was so fucking close. The tension in my body coiled tighter.

“Cipher,” I begged. “Please.”

He pulled back just enough to look up at me. His face was wet with me and his silver eyes were blown wide, the pupils swallowing the iris, dark with a hunger that looked like madness.

“Say it.” His breath ghosted over my pussy with each word. “Tell me who owns your cunt.”

I opened my mouth to answer. To give him whatever he wanted.

“Sir.” A voice crackled from the intercom.