Falling for the Villain

“I’m sorry, Mama, I’m so sorry.”

My head swirled with aftershocks of what I overhead and the way he was looking at me. It held so much sincerity and humanity as if he was another man who was suddenly caring.

“Please tell me your name,” I requested again.

But it was over before it even began.

He crudely grabbed the back of my neck, pushing me down onto the floor on my knees in front of him. His fingers raked through my scalp before he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my head back. I watched him unzip his pants and release his hard, thick cock.

“Look at me. Let me see your eyes.”

I did as I was told, peering into the eyes of the man that reminded me of everything that had gone wrong in my life.

This was the first time I’d seen his dick, and it was quite a sight. Still gripping onto my hair, in one quick movement, he thrust his cock right into my mouth with no warning. I gagged at the sensation, his head hitting the back of my throat. Sliding back out and all the way in, he repeated this a couple more times.

I wanted to bite down, and of course, he read my mind.

“Try it and watch how fast I make you bleed for me.” Holding me tighter, he ordered, “Push out your tongue. I want my cock all the way in; don’t fight me.”

I expected him to thrust back in. I was confused when he plugged my nose with his fingers instead.

“You breathe when I fucking let you.”

Once again, he shoved his cock to the back of my throat, not letting go of my nose. My head hit the mattress, and I couldn’t move. He didn’t stop until my lips met his groin, and he held me there for several long seconds.

“Look at me. How am I supposed to know when to let you breathe if I can’t see your eyes?”

He pulled out, and I gasped for air while an uncontrollable amount of drool and tears slid down the side of my mouth. Growling and grunting the entire time he fucked my face.

He loosened his hold and let go of my nose, sliding out his dick.

“Breathe.”

I did.

Thrusting back in, he used my mouth in the way he seemed fit. I’d never given a blow job before, and I knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d take a first from me.

Should I be grateful he started off with this?

He continued this process until he couldn’t take it anymore and came with such force that my entire body shook from his spasms. His hold tightened, making it almost impossible to catch my breath, with an intensity I had never experienced.

Crouching down to my level, he demanded, “Swallow.” When I did, he praised, “You’re such a good girl.”

I smiled, seeking out his attention. Almost falling on my ass as soon as he added…

“I’m always your master, but my name is Donovan.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Juliet

I had no sense of time. I didn’t even know how long he’d left me in that room alone. It could have been a few hours or a few days; everything was beginning to blend together. I wasn’t tied to the bed anymore, and I had the liberty to move around. My bones hurt, and my jaw was tender.

Every time I thought about why it was sore, my body tingled in a way it hadn’t before. I started to think about what it would be like to have him inside of me. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew this was a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome, textbook shit. My picture should be in the dictionary, next to the definition.

Of course, this was what he craved. He was a sick sociopath that I couldn’t stop thinking about. Something happened the last time we were together. I didn’t know if it was his dream that I witnessed, or him using my mouth as comfort, or maybe it was the fact that he finally told me his name.

All I knew was that I missed him terribly.

Thought about his handsome, devious face.

Dreamt of his hands, his tongue, his cock on me, in me.

What sick twisted game I was playing without knowing the rules or guidelines. It was becoming a slippery slope, my need for his presence, his attention, his body on top of mine.

My mind couldn’t decide what state it wanted to be in other than confused and tormented. I honestly didn’t know where it came from, all the emotions and feelings. Like a prey, I was caught in his spider web of lies and deceit, and the sad part was I wanted to believe I could change him. All the times he touched me and told me I was his.

It felt real.

Sincere.

Consuming.

I thought about him when I was alone and even when I was lying in his arms. It didn’t matter that I knew it was wrong.