Falling for the Villain

She looked ready to murder me. Good, I loved it when they fought. Sometimes, too much.

At my words, she slowly got to her feet. Her hands shook, whether in fear or something else; I didn’t know and really didn’t fucking care. Eventually, she’d crave me in unfathomable and unforgivable ways. Her lean legs carried her into the bathroom, and I watched in anticipation as she knelt in front of the bathtub, her knees on the towel, her short dark hair in a tattered mess below her ears.

I’d allow her to fix it later. For now, I needed something.

Desperately.

I waited longer than ten minutes, testing her to see if she’d rebel, talk back to me, or even stand up thinking I’d forgotten about her. Still, she knelt. She’d be sore from sitting in that position. Meaning she’d welcome the reprieve when I allowed her to stand; she’d thank me and hate me at the same time.

A little bit of pleasure.

A little bit of pain.

They go hand in hand when turning someone into a pet for a collector—only this time, I was training her for me. Not for anyone else.

Just me.

I leaned over her and turned on the faucet. Once it was ice cold, I shoved her head underneath the water with one hand and disclosed, “I prefer blondes.”

Water sputtered out of her mouth from cascading down her face.

“You like this,” I simply stated, gripping her by the hair as her nipples hardened. “Even if your mind refuses to give up the control, your body craves the comfort of pain; want to know why, Juliet?”

“No.” She clenched her teeth. “You’re a monster.”

“I try.” I grinned down at her chest. “I wonder if you’re as wet between your thighs…”

Captives always tried to appear strong—most of them broke before they even realized what was happening, and she’d be no different.

“Bow your head,” I instructed.

She slowly did as I asked. I shook the bottle before spilling it over her roots, using my hands to pull the color down the short length of her hair. Something about seeing her bent over in submission, something about her flawless tears as I erased her identity had me so turned on I couldn’t fucking think straight.

“Why?” she asked again.

I stared her down, unable to actually get the words out without sounding fucking weak. I saw you and knew I’d have to kidnap, claim, fuck, and heal you.

The memory of the last pet I had and trained for another man quickly appeared through my mind.

“He’s waiting for you at the end of the hall.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “At least tell me you got a good price for me, Donovan.”

I shrugged. “You weren’t a virgin, but the price was still fair.”

“Did you ever,” she screamed. “Did you ever even love me?”

This wasn’t the first or last time a pet would fall in love with me. It was just part of the process. I ignored her questions.

Her lips trembled. “It was real, all of it; I know it.”

I shook my head slowly and leaned forward, pushing off the doorframe.

“It was all to train you for another man, someone better; you’ll see. You may have been mine, but, Catarina, I was never yours. Understand?”

She looked ready to throw her body at me. “You’re, you’re—”

“I was never your master, which is why you don’t address me as such. Your owner is waiting for you, and I wouldn’t keep him waiting, pet. The last thing you want to do is show him you have no training. I won’t punish you, but he will. My job here is done now.”

“I hate you! Do you hear me? I fucking hate you!”

I hated myself too sometimes, however, not for the same reasons. No, I hated myself because I needed the violence in order to experience a sliver of love. After all, that was what happened when you grew up locked in closets and watching your mother die right before your eyes by a man who was supposed to love her. My father. In the end, I killed him too. Not for her; I did that for no one but me.

You see, the true monsters of the world were the ones that hid in plain sight like saviors when they were nothing but sinners in broad daylight.

I shook away the memory. “Keep this on for twenty minutes. I’ll set a timer.”

“Where are you going?” A panicked expression crossed her exotic features.

With a smirk, I palmed the front of my pants and showed her what she did to me.

“Unless you want me to fuck you right now, I suggest you let me leave.”

She barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh, now you care about what I want?”

“Careful, pet. You don’t want to continue speaking to me like you have a right to, or else I’ll have to remind you again why you don’t. Are we clear?”