Falling for the Villain - Page 3

“See, pet … they belong to me now too.”

My eyes widened.

This man had no remorse, not one shred of decency. There was no emotion in his eyes, no sympathy, and it was obvious he was getting off on the fact that I was scared.

“I know you may not believe me, but I can assure you that by the end of this, you’ll not only be thanking me, but you’ll also be in love with me. I’ll even go as far as to say you’ll die for me.”

My heart beat heavily against my chest, pounding so hard and fast I thought I was going to pass out.

With the knuckles of his fingers, he swept the hair away from my face and shook his head in disappointment. I saw the blood on his fingers from my temple where I’d been knocked out.

I winced when he touched it.

“Trust me—if I could revive the men I killed for marring your face, I would. Just so that I could kill them again for hurting you.”

I sat there in a state of shock, unable to say anything in return without fear of getting punished. Instead, I refocused my attention to my nephew and asked, “Did you take Naz too?”

He shook his head no. “Your nephew is safe. You’re the only one who’s not.”

Relief washed over my senses for Naz. “I thought you weren’t going to hurt me if I listened to you?”

“We both know that’s not your true nature. You’re a mafia princess, and your instinct will be to fight me. But don’t you worry, pet. Trust me when I say that I look forward to breaking you down.”

My body gave an involuntary shudder as he moved to stand in front of my face, giving me a perfect view of his erection. He palmed himself through his slacks.

“Like what you see?”

When I didn’t answer fast enough, he roughly gripped onto my hair and yanked it back. I grimaced in pain, and more tears joined the others down my cheeks.

Unable to think from the discomfort, I blurted, “I don’t!”

“You will,” was all he said.

I was frozen, immobile again. He was close to me, closer than he had been before, and I could smell his scent. It was intoxicating. Consuming every last part of me.

He sat behind my back, straddling the piano bench. Then, in one quick, sudden motion, he laid my head on his shoulder, locking me in place by the forceful hold on my hair. I shut my eyes, not wanting him to see my terror.

It must have pissed him off because the next thing I heard was him ripping off my panties, and then…

Slap!

His hand struck my pussy, and my eyes snapped open. He didn’t give me a chance to catch my bearings.

To recover.

To do anything but scream as loud as I could.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

I yelled so loud that my voice quickly became hoarse.

My lungs burned.

My chest ached.

My pussy throbbed.

And to show me how much he was truly enjoying this, he thrust his hard dick against my ass cheeks.

“Please…” I pleaded for mercy.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

“Please!” I wailed, loud enough to break glass.

I was covered in sweat, heat coursing its way through my core with emotions I didn’t think were possible to feel in this fucked up situation I suddenly found myself in.

My chest seized.

My skin tingled.

My core pounded.

I didn’t know if it was my begging or screaming that did him in, but he gradually let go of my hair and intimately began messaging my scalp. My head leaned into his caress, wanting the relief his hand was invoking on my tender head. I didn’t want any part of the game he was playing, but my body’s reaction to his touch proved that he had this power over me from the very beginning.

I turned my head to the side, away from him as hot tears streamed their way down the sides of my face.

It didn’t end there.

He had only just begun to toy with me.

Suddenly, his fingers were softly rubbing where he’d just slapped me.

In comfort.

In pleasure.

In this twisted power struggle of how much he already owned me.

I moaned, even though I wanted to yell, even though I wanted to break down, even though I wanted to hate him with every ounce of my body.

His control.

His touch.

It was wreaking havoc on my entire being.

“Please…” I whispered, “Please…”

“Please what, pet?”

I didn’t know what to say.

What to think.

My mind acted on its own, and I fought against his skilled fingers.

“No!” I screamed this time, louder than before.

He chuckled against my back, working my clit, knowing exactly how to touch my pussy.

“No!”

The bastard didn’t let up, and my defiance only made him work harder. Simply proving that there was nothing he couldn’t just steal from me if he wanted to.

Faster and harder, he manipulated me in this sick game of authority that I wanted to escape, but I was trapped in this room.

Tags: M. Robinson, Rachel Van Dyken Dark
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