Page 32 of The Villain


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Don't interfere, Drake, my handler had said. Orders. And I, like a good soldier, followed them. Dutiful, disciplined, dumb. He swore to me they had been warned.

But it hadn't mattered.

In my mind's eye, I could still see Saffron running toward the fire, screaming. Me? I just stood there.

Her tear-streaked face. That look of utter disbelief, tinged with a hint of accusation. I woke up gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. My bed sheets were drenched in sweat, my body trembling. It took me a few moments to ground myself in the present, to remind myself that it was just a dream. But the images lingered, haunting me like a curse. The bench, Saff's braids, the explosion...

I got up from my bed and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face then closed my eyes, trying to shake off the memories. But they refused to let go. They followed me like shadows, like ghosts. And I knew that I would never be free of them, that they would haunt me until the day I died.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, my head in my hands. Maybe I should have done something. Maybe I should have disobeyed orders and warned them. Maybe I could have saved them. The what-ifs and the could-haves swirled inside my brain like a tornado, threatening to tear me apart.

"Goddamn nightmare," I muttered to the dark room.

Moonlight filtered in, painting the room in shades of silver. Too quiet, too peaceful.

But that peace was a lie. I was waging war right now.

An image of Daphne pirouetted into my mind, innocent and stunning as I fell back onto the bed, glaring at the ceiling. That bullshit in the hall couldn’t happen again. She was a means to an end. That was all. My brain had just glitched for a minute when she lifted her hips.

Did you take her to possess her? Or to use her?

No. Fuck that. She wasn’t going to be a problem for me.

But the question lingered like a bad smell that just wouldn’t go away. Was I doing this for her? Or was I just claiming what I wanted and to hell with the consequences?

I tried to push the thought away, but it taunted me. I remembered the way her lips had tasted when we kissed, the sweet and salty flavor mixing together in a way that intoxicated me. And then the way her body had felt pressed against mine, the blood rushing to my cock, making me hard as steel. Damn it, I couldn't let myself get distracted like this. I had a job to do, a mission to complete.

My mind raced with images of her, of the way her lips felt against mine. My body responded, blood rushing to my cock. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the mission and the bigger picture. But it was hard when all I could think about was Daphne. How she might look when she slept, how she might sound when she moaned my name.

The more I tried to push it away, the more it kept creeping back. The memory of her soft skin under my hands and of her gasps of pleasure.

I groaned, running a hand through my hair, then lay back on the bed, closing my eyes and picturing Daphne beneath me. There was no sleeping with my cock like this. I resented the fact I couldn't get her out of my bloody head. But I'd work one out and be done. Just this once.

Sure. If you say so.

I slid my hands into my boxers and wrapped my hand around my cock, stroking it slowly. In my mind's eye, Daphne's lips parted slightly and her tongue darted out to wet them.

I imagined my hand drifting lower, past her slim waist, down the curve of her hip until I reached the waistband of her leggings.

With several rough pulls, I tugged the cotton and the satin knickers down, revealing bare brown and pink delicate folds.

The image of moisture on her lips had my hips jolting up, my grip tightening on my cock and my hand moved faster, my breathing growing ragged in my ears.

Despite the mutiny and malice in her gaze, she'd lift that sweet pussy up, seeking contact. Seeking what only I could give her.

"You bad girl. Is this what you want? You want my cock?"

When she didn't immediately answer, in my mind I'd pull back, taking her prize away. Pretend Daphne whimpered and then muttered a soft, "Yes," through clenched teeth.

Fisting my cock, I slid the bulbous tip over her clit making her toss her head back, her hands fighting the one I had restraining her.

"Please," she whimpered.

I gave her what she wanted, and thrust into her slick heat with one swift motion.

She cried out, the sound loud in my ears. "Yes..."

My hand released hers, and I wrapped it around her throat, stilling her movements. Her hips bucked, seeking more, as my cock slid in and out of her slick wetness.

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