I hissed when he pulled out, immediately feeling the loss of him. He kissed my sweaty neck and left me there alone, with so many questions I didn’t even know where to begin.
I stayed put.
I didn’t move an inch, afraid of what would happen if I did. He wordlessly shuffled around the room and disappeared into the bathroom. I closed my eyes, letting several tears stream down the sides of my face and onto the piano that would forever hold a part of us. Setting my hand over my heart, I waited for him to return.
When he finally did, I tried to breathe and shut my eyes as tight as I could. If my eyes were open, he would know. If I made a sound, he would know he meant something to me even when he shouldn’t.
Not strong enough to look up into his eyes, too weak to handle what I would see or what I wouldn’t, I continued to painfully squeeze my eyes shut, keeping the tears in place.
I heard his footsteps, walking back toward me. My legs were spread, and I felt a warm washcloth between my legs and down my thighs. He was cleaning me, tender, caring, slowly, from my core to my feet.
He had officially broken me, except this time…
Those broken pieces welded together with his.
We were one.
Jaded.
Fucked up.
In love.
He was the first to break the silence, declaring the truth I already knew, “This is the closest to making love that you’re going to get from me.” Licking off one last tear, he added, “Best get used to it now.”
Donovan
I was a monster.
A villain.
A bad, bad man.
However, for the first time in my life, I wished I could be different. Not for me, for her.
My Juliet.
After I tended to her, I carried her to my bed. She watched as I undressed, getting into bed naked, where she fell asleep in my arms.
This was my sorry excuse of a fucking life, and I was dragging her into the pits of hell with me. She didn’t deserve it, and I would never let her go.
Give her back.
Mine.
No matter what.
I contemplated if I was really going to do this, for days, for nights, the entire time she slept in my arms. All I knew was there was no going back from here. She wouldn’t return to her room, to the stuff I’d bought for her, to her comfort I’d created out of pure chaos. She would stay in my bed, in my suite, sleep in my arms every night and wake up in them every morning.
I’d keep her with me, always.
Sometime during the night, I must have fallen asleep, which was unusual for me. You see, villains never sleep. They prowled with an evil energy that caused their minds to continue to work overtime, wondering what the next conquest would be when they’d get their next pull. Being a villain was like being hooked on cocaine. You were always waiting for your next hit, wondering about it, dreaming, wishing—except for the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t the villain who stayed awake and plotted. I was the one who went to sleep and actually slept.
The comfort she provided without even knowing it was found in her arms, in her warmth, in her tight pussy wrapped around my cock.
I’d never taken a woman’s virginity. It was too personal, too private, and I never wanted my slave to think she was mine in that way. With Juliet, the moment I learned she was a virgin, I fucked my fist to the visions of taking her for the first time. Her blood on my dick, her cries of pain, her moans of passion…
They all belonged to me now.
I owned every last part of her, just how I intended before I even had her taken.
My mind was made up as soon as she laid in my bed, wearing nothing but the flesh on her skin. I tossed and turned, shooting straight up from sleep.
I didn’t feel her.
I couldn’t see her.
Fuck.
“Pet,” I announced in an eerie tone, glaring around my empty bedroom.
Realizing very fucking quickly what I had to do, I darted out of bed and threw on my tuxedo slacks as I made my way out of my suite. Taking the fucking stairs two at a time, I didn’t want to waste a minute waiting for the elevator.
My feet pounded against the cold steps, echoing through the stairwell and down each corridor. A fucking rope tugging me to her, I reassured myself repeatedly that she was still there with me.
Safe.
“Juliet!” I shouted at the end of the stairs.
No answer.
Not one.
Fuck.
I ran from one room to another, shouting her name from the rooftops. Panic began settling in, and I swallowed it back down.
Did she escape? How?
My estate was crawling with guards, so she couldn’t have gone far. Slamming the door open to the kitchen, I walked in on Juliet sitting on the island naked, eating fucking cereal.