Falling for the Villain

“Do I not fulfill all your needs?”

“You do, Master. You do,” I lied.

His lips curled into an amused smile. “You need to work on that, your ability to make me believe things…” He sighed. “Open a bottle of wine, two glasses, and let’s discuss…”

I froze and then did exactly that, grabbing the first bottle of red from the cellar I could find along with two glasses.

When both were poured, I stood next to him, unsure of what to do. Was I allowed to sit? In a chair? His lap? The floor?

Most of the time, he fed me from his hands.

“Sit,” he demanded.

Still, I paused, my hands twisting in front of me as they clung to each other, afraid I would reach for him by accident, afraid I’d never let go.

And that was the issue.

I wanted him.

I never wanted to let go.

But he was the same person as before.

Unable to realize that some of the things we wanted the most, we could never have, even if they were right in front of us, begging to be seen.

Slowly, he pulled out a chair.

I sat and waited, head bowed.

“Look at me,” he commanded in a hollow voice that had me wondering what the hell we’d gone through these last few weeks that he could address me with such limited emotion when I was ready to be facedown in front of him, bowing to a king I never knew I would have to serve, but enjoying the servitude because it was him.

Donovan.

His dark eyes were trained on me for a few short seconds before he leaned back and crossed his arms. “You cooked.”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

“For us,” I said before thinking. Wincing, I waited for the pain for the deserved punishment.

Instead, he stilled and then reached for my chin, tilting it toward him with his finger. “Us?”

I gulped, willing the tears to stay in. “I just thought…” I tried again. “I’m bored and figured I could help with…”

“You thought,” he repeated slowly. “What? That I would magically fall in love with you the minute, you cooked me pasta?”

“No.” I wanted to scream. “No, that’s not what I—”

His smirk killed the next words I had. “I was kidding, pet. Thank you,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my mouth, murmuring, “for the food.”

I wanted to swallow him whole. Exist in only a place where we could be together. No family. No politics.

Us.

Just us being us.

Like we were in that kitchen, but that wasn’t my reality.

“You’re bored.” He pulled away from my mouth, contemplating what he was going to say next. “What can I do to fix your boredom, Juliet?”

My mouth dropped open. “You mean … you would let me leave?”

He arched an intense eyebrow.

“No! Not like leave, leave, but off the premises?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“I could leave and go to the mall or something?”

“This is about you wanting to go to the mall?”

“No, not really.”

“Then how about you use your words and stop talking in circles. If you want something from me, then I expect to hear you address it, understood? I don’t play games.”

“But what if you don’t like what I have to say?”

“Then I take you over my knee and spank your ass raw, but, pet…” He paused for a second. “We both know how much you like that.”

I blushed, bowing my head.

“Juliet.”

His gentle voice made me peer up at him.

“Try me.”

I bit my bottom lip. “Okay.”

He leaned back into his chair, arms folded over his broad chest, waiting. I had to shove away all the dirty thoughts I had of him in that moment, wanting my voice to be heard. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t internally flipping the fuck out.

“Pet, I’m waiting.”

Before he could say anything, I exclaimed, “I’m nervous.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“I don’t want to make you upset.”

“So what you’re going to tell me will upset me?”

“I don’t know.”

He grinned in a devilish way. “Only one way to find out.”

“Fine. I want a job.”

At my request, he jerked back. “A job?”

“Yeah, you know. Something I can do for you.”

“Something you can do for me? More than you already do?”

I smiled at his retort. “I’ll do anything you want, Master.”

“And look at that—when she wants something, she’s polite and respectful.”

I shrugged, hiding back my smile.

“What would you like to do for me?”

“I mean, I could help with things. Like Elaina, maybe?”

“Like Elaina?”

“Yes. She helps with the slaves, right? She helped with me.”

“I see.”

His grin was my undoing. God, I loved it when he smirked like that. I wished I could save them all for when I was sad, for when I missed Romeo, when I missed my old life, my old self, only to realize I wasn’t the same anymore.

I wasn’t me.

I was his.

Owned.

And I never wanted to go back to what once was. As sick as it made me, I never wanted to be well.