A Worthy Opponent (Wicked Villains 3)

Some days I wonder if I’m actually better than Peter, or just a different shade of monster.

I move away from her clit, gentling my touch and letting her come down. I’m not finished yet. I need to escape from the shadows flicking through my mind as much as she does tonight. From the way her fingers flex in my hair, she’s more than willing to meet me every step of the way.

Good.

I wait for her breathing to settle a little, and then I begin again. I play with her pussy until she’s sobbing and writhing, until she’s not thinking of anything but me. Not fighting. Not the future. Nothing but the slow slide of my tongue against her clit.

“Jameson.”

There she is.

I move up her body and shift so I can cup her pussy. It’s not meant to drive her back up again. It’s a claiming, pure and simple. “Every time you fight me, I’m going to make you come so hard, you can’t see straight.”

She blinks those big eyes at me. I’m gratified when it takes her two tries to speak. “That’s a really shitty punishment.”

“Is it?” I trace her opening with my middle finger. “I don’t care where we are, Tink. I don’t give a fuck who’s around. I’ll shove up your skirt and suck that pretty little clit of yours until you’re a sobbing mess.”

Another of those slow blinks. “You wouldn’t.”

“Test me.” I have no shame, and she should know that by now. Playing this game with her is more than worth it.

“I …” She frowns and licks her lips. “We’re going to fight about this later.”

“Then you’ll be riding my face later.” I press a soft kiss to her lips, tracing the path her tongue just took. “Let’s go home.”

She tenses, but relaxes as if deciding it’s not worth the effort of arguing. “Okay.”

I climb off her and take a second to adjust my cock. Her gaze follows the movement, but I shake my head when she opens her mouth. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” She sits up and hell if the sight of her doesn’t take my breath away. She’s naked, her hair a tangled mess from all the fucking, her pale skin flushed from desire. She’s perfect. She catches me checking her out and spreads her legs a little, giving me a good look of where I had my mouth just seconds ago. Tink’s hand drifts down. “Think about how hard your cock is? About how good it’ll feel to be filled by you? About you fucking me until … What was it you said? Until I see the face of god?”

“Tink.” I sink enough warning in my tone for her hand to stop its descent. “You touch your pussy without permission and I’m going to put you over my knee and paddle your ass.”

She freezes. “You’re shitting me. You don’t get to decide when and how I touch my own goddamn pussy.”

“You heard me.”

“You bastard.” She says it slowly, almost wonderingly. “What if I decide coming is worth a little spanking?”

I’m on her before she can react. I grip the back of her neck and shove three fingers into her. “This pussy is mine, Tink. Mine. I will take care of it—take care of you—for as long as that’s true.” I fuck her ruthlessly with my fingers, and her eyes flutter as she fights the pleasure. “If that means I pass you around until you’re covered in other men’s orgasms like the little cum slut you are, then I will make that happen. If it means fucking you morning, noon, and night until you can’t see straight, I will do it happily. If it means strapping you to a sex saddle until you come so many times, you pass out, I’ll enjoy the fuck out of it.”

“Oh shit.” She loses her battle with desire and grabs my biceps, holding on as she comes again.

I force myself to still, to not keep going until I’ve worked out my frustration on her pussy. It takes a few seconds longer than it should, but I finally release a pent up breath and ease out of her. “I will take care of you, beautiful girl. But you will follow my orders. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers.

“Good girl.”

I dress Tink in leggings and a black sweatshirt that has a picture of Krampus printed on the front, both provided by Meg when I left the room earlier. Tink just watches me like a deer looking down the barrel of a rifle at a hunter, unable to quantify the threat.

I could save her the trouble and tell her my plans. I won’t. As unsure of me she is … The truth is that I can’t trust her either. Not beyond her hate of Peter and her lust for me.