Falling for the Villain

From her heart.

To her soul.

To her fucking pussy and every hole she had in her body. I wanted ownership of everything that could be and would be mine. I watched with the certainty of what she was doing to me. How she was breaking me down, faster and faster her fingers played the keys, getting lost in the symmetry of what she was evoking.

Once again, my feet moved on their own accord, like I was being yanked by a rope, a chain of nothing but agony and distress. Placing my hands on top of hers, I pressed down on the keys while she played the song perfectly.

She tensed, understanding I could play the piano just as she could. My fingers slowly ran across hers as we played in unison, as we became one in a way we never had before. Sharing the music. Sharing the joy, the pain. Sharing what made us feel, what cut the deepest, and what created the chaos of emotions that surrounded us and made us into monsters or men.

I remembered wanting to play like my mother. Even before my father took her away from me, I always had that thought in the back of my mind, that little voice would make itself known, and subconsciously I would think about what would happen if she was gone.

Where would the music go?

It needed a place to go. And that place had to be me. I made sure she taught me everything she knew, and sometimes I played for her when she needed heaven. I played for her just like she played for me. I needed it. Craved it. Not just for me, but for her.

I stared down at Juliet, lust pounding through every vessel in my body. I stood behind her and touched from her neck to her breasts, to where I wanted to be the most.

Her pussy.

She was wet.

Silky.

Tempting to eat.

I had yet to thrust my tongue into her heat. As if I was a possessed man, I stood in front of her now, and in one swift, sudden movement, I shut the top board of the piano and placed her on it instead. Her feet hit the keys, she gasped at the turn of events.

I slid her down to the edge, yearning to close the distance between us.

“Tell me, Juliet. Tell me what I want to hear. Who do you belong to?”

Her frenzied gaze found my serene one.

I was sedated.

Still.

At peace in this hell I lived in.

With her in my arms, everything just felt right. She opened her mouth, hesitating for a few seconds. As if she knew that once she said it, there was going back, only forward in this game of cat and mouse where I chased and she ran.

“I’m yours.”

My heady hands slid down her body, needing to touch her.

Own her.

Fuck her.

“Tell me again.”

“I’m yours, Donovan.”

My name.

The way she said my name.

I was somehow forgiven.

No longer a sinner.

No, I was a saint.

Worshipped.

Revived.

Holy.

And for the first time in my life—deserving.

Spread wide, she was vulnerable, ready.

“Again,” I demanded in a harsher tone than I intended, needing to hear the soothing words like a balm to my soul.

“I’m yours,” she repeated while I kissed and licked my way down every last inch of her skin.

“Yes, you’re mine, Juliet.” Answering her question from earlier, I confessed, “And I’ve always, always, been yours.”

Juliet

My stomach fluttered.

My heart dropped.

With what he had just admitted to me.

Sitting on the bench, his eyes devoured me in a way he hadn’t before. Staring directly at the place no man besides him had ever seen. I was nothing, completely at his mercy, and yet I felt powerful as his breath exhaled across my core.

Cocking his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes at me. “By all means, Juliet, spread your legs wider for me.”

“I—”

He leaned forward, placing his tight grip on my waist, having my back fall against the top board.

“That wasn’t a suggestion. I want to fuck your cunt with my tongue.”

I angled up onto my elbows and did as I was told. Slowly, he eyed me up and down with a look I’d never seen before.

“Wider,” he roared in a primal tone.

I jumped, overwhelmed. Seeing this side of him emerge was unsettling and arousing. I looked into his vacant eyes, silently pleading for the man he was minutes ago.

He glanced down at my heat before quickly moving his calculated gaze back to my eyes.

“Touch your pretty little pussy. I want to watch you come for me, Juliet.”

“Can you—”

“No.”

He didn’t waver. Dark, tantalizing eyes eagerly waited for the show. Taking a deep, steady breath, I desired to please him. Spreading my legs further, I moved my jittery hand where he ordered me to touch myself, hissing upon contact on my clit. The nub was still sensitive from his assault the day before, where he’d slapped me into submission, throwing me into this euphoric hole.