Villain (Hero 1.50)

“I told you to leave,” I bit out, trying to stop him from coming into the apartment.

But looking up into his face, I could see I wasn’t the only one struggling to hold on to a temper. Henry pushed inside, locking the door behind me, and I suddenly hated him for forcing me into this confrontation.

“I need to apologize,” he said to my back as I hurried into my sitting room. My shoulders hunched to my neck at the words. I couldn’t look at him.

What did he want me to say? That it was okay?

Because it wasn’t.

No one, no matter what, should have to be subjected to what that woman said to me.

Henry’s mother!

He was in Cloud Cuckoo Land if he thought this, whatever this was between us, could ever work out when his mother thought so little of me.

“Just go,” I snapped, not looking at him.

“No,” he said, his tone stern. “Not until you turn around and look at me.”

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “Satisfied? Now leave.”

Instead of leaving, he studied my face, softening as if he understood what was going on behind my fury.

But he didn’t understand.

“I cannot apologize enough for what my mother said to you. Frankly, right now I’m ashamed I share DNA with the woman. That was the reason I was avoiding her. She’s… bad with the women I date normally, even the ones she’s set me up with. No one is good enough. Usually, it’s merely irritating, but I didn’t want to subject you to her. And if I had known how goddamn low she’d sink tonight, I never would’ve put you in that situation.”

I heard his words, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel the anger and worry in them that I’d later remember. In that moment, all I saw were the flowers peeking over the top of the trash can behind him. Flowers that had arrived at my apartment earlier that afternoon. Flowers that meant he’d found my home address. Flowers that taunted me, saying, “You can’t be angry at Penelope Lexington when you know she’d feel smug with satisfaction if she ever discovered the truth.” She’d feel vindicated in her opinion of me.

Worse would be how Henry would react if he knew the truth. How he’d never look at me the same way again. He’d never look at me in that way that was getting under my skin, becoming an addiction, despite all the defenses I’d tried to put up against him.

A chill shivered down my spine.

“Nadia, what can I do? What—”

“If you’re not going to leave,” I turned around to fully face him, “then we might as well get this over with.”

Henry watched with narrowed eyes as I threw my purse on the couch and then removed my earrings. “What are you doing?”

Cold, toneless, I reminded him, “Our arrangement is almost over. A deal is a deal.”

“A deal is a deal?” The muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes flashing. “You’re going to fuck me like some martyr?”

“Well, I’d prefer it if you leave but I don’t welch on a deal.”

“Nadia, don’t hide from me.” I could hear the barely contained fury beneath his words and in a twisted way, I reveled in it. I wanted his anger. I wanted to force him to walk away and walk away for good. “Talk to me.”

I scoffed. “Why do you keep trying to make this more than it is? You wanted to slum it with the local weather girl. I wanted to get laid because it’s been a while. You just happened to be there and I’ve heard you’re good. That’s all this ever was. And I’m not one of your uptight society princesses who needs to be assured you want more from me than a dirty fuck.”

“Nadia…”

I didn’t heed the growl of warning in his voice. “Let me make it clearer,” I hissed out, all my rage at myself redirected at him like I knew and feared would happen. “I don’t do relationships with spoiled rich boys who run away from their mommas. I’ll let a rich boy fuck me for the hell of it, but rest assured when I do let someone in long-term, it’ll be a man.”

Not even a second later, Henry crossed the distance between us, one hand tangling into my pinned-up hair, the other around my waist. He yanked me roughly against him before I could blink and slammed his mouth down over mine in a hard, punishing kiss.

And the war that was raging inside of me blazed outward as I pushed my hands against his chest, trying to get away, while my tongue danced with his with no thought to stopping. It wasn’t a dream kiss, soft, sensual, seductive. It was harsh, wet, fast, breathless, just two mouths, two tongues, base need.

Arousal roared through me. I’d never been more aware of my body in my entire life. My breasts were so swollen, so sensitive, it was a pleasure pain. My nipples hard, chafing against the lace of the bra I wore. The tingles between my legs were filled with such heat, the feeling almost burned, like flames and champagne fizz mixed together. Pain winced across my scalp, but knowing it was Henry’s hand tangling tighter through my hair to pull me closer was erotic and thrilling. His other hand, his fingers, bruised my hip he clung to me so hard, forcing me against his body.

And causing the tingles to travel deep low in my belly, pleasure rippling, dampening my underwear with wet heat, was the feel of Henry’s erection digging into my stomach. Suddenly I wasn’t pushing him away anymore but curling my fingers into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and rocking my hips into him.

Our harsh breathing filled my apartment as he broke the punishing kiss to glower at me in barely leashed enraged lust.

My heart raced, fearing he was going to walk away.

What a mass of confusion I was.

Quite abruptly, he pushed me backward and my dress got caught beneath my feet, tripping me. I stumbled against the wall and Henry was on me, pinning me there. His eyes never left mine and I could only stare up at him, panting, expecting, vulnerable and no longer caring because the calls of my body were louder than the calls of my fears.

Our eyes locked, our hot breaths whispering over one another’s lips. My breasts heaved against his chest as he pressed into me. His hands smoothed lightly down my waist and goosebumps woke up along the curves of my chest as I swelled into him.

And then his hands stopped on the sides of my thighs, his fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. He pulled, bunching it, and cool air drifted over my legs, over my thighs, until it was gathered around my waist.

My breath stuttered as he pushed my legs apart with his feet and put his free hand on the inside of my left thigh. Not once did he break eye contact. I trembled, feeling like I was going to combust if he didn’t do something soon. My body jerked as his fingers slipped beneath my underwear and slid easily inside me.

Henry’s eyes darkened at finding me so wet, his features tightening… and then it snapped whatever control he’d forced over himself in the last few minutes. He pulled back, my dress dropping to the floor again, and I trembled harder, staring into his eyes as he ripped off his tuxedo jacket. “Lift your dress,” he demanded as he threw his jacket away.

I fumbled for the skirts, my knees shaking. He stepped back into me, his dress shoes hard and cold against my bare feet as he forced my legs even further apart. His hand gripped under my thigh, jerking my leg up around his hip, while the other unzipped his tuxedo pants.

I gasped at the heat of him throbbing between my legs and watched his blue eyes turn black just before he thrust into me. It burned a little, hurt. He was thick, bigger than I was anticipating. I’d never felt so full, overwhelmed.

But the discomfort melted, replaced with pleasure that tingled down my spine, through my legs, rippling in my belly as he slid out and then pumped back into me.

Our breaths puffed against each other’s lips and I gripped his waist, urging him closer, harder. I wanted more. Everything. Now. I wanted to come. I didn’t want seduction. I wanted him to shatter me. Immediately.

As if he felt my urgency or shared it, Henry picked up his pace. My head flew back against the wall, his bent, buried in my neck, breaking our eye contact.

And he fucked me.

T

here was no other word for it. It was hard, fast, angry.

It took barely any time for the tension inside of me to spiral higher, higher toward the cliff edge. Then suddenly I was at the peak, and with one more hard drive into me, he pushed me over the top and I was flying and exploding at the same time.

A cry, almost a scream, tore out of me as my eyes rolled back inside my head. I’d never experienced anything like it—wave after wave of deep, hard pleasure rolling through me. And each strong ripple clenched around Henry’s dick, the sensation goddamn glorious.

His long, guttural groan sounded in my ear and his grip on my thigh tightened to biting and painful as he came. His hips jerked against me as his wet heat released inside of me.

Our harsh breathing seemed to echo around the room as Henry slumped into me. He let go of my thigh and my muscles were too loose, too languid to hold it up. My leg dropped heavily to the floor, my skirts held up only by Henry’s body against mine.

As my heart beat fast against my ribs, reality began to sink in, and he throbbed inside of me.

Inside of me.

A thought brought a shower of cold over me.

We hadn’t used a condom. I was on the pill but that didn’t mean we shouldn’t have used a condom, especially considering how many women this man had slept with!

“Henry…” I pushed against him.

He reluctantly lifted his head from my shoulder and stared at me, looking somewhat shell shocked.

“We didn’t use a condom.”

It took a minute for my words to sink in. “You’re not on the pill?”

“I am,” I hurried to assure him. “But we should have used protection.”

The fact that we didn’t shocked the hell out of me. I’d never been so consumed with desire before that I’d forgotten about something as important as the condom.