Page 110 of Villainous Intent

I rounded a corner, my bare feet skidding on the floor.

I didn’t even see him.

He had killed the glowing lines of his suit so that he was camouflaged against the black walls. He was simply a shadow that detached itself from the wall and lunged.

I screamed as he caught my waist, his momentum taking us both down to the ground in a crash that rattled my teeth and sealed my fate.

He absorbed the brunt of the impact before he rolled, flipping us so my back slammed against the ground. I thrashed beneath him, striking out with my fists and driving my knee upward in a vicious arc.

In the darkest corners of my browser history, the prey never just surrendered. The struggle was the entire point of the game. The Villain didn’t want a compliant, willing participant. He wanted a conquest. The resistance is what made the surrender all the sweeter.

I clawed at his shoulders, my nails scraping uselessly against his suit. He caught my wrists and wrenched my arms above my head, pinning them to the floor with a single hand. Pain flared in my shoulders, already sore from being tied up the night before. I bucked my hips, twisting and trying to unseat him.

He countered by pressing his full weight against me. He was an indestructible monolith of engineered muscle and I was just soft, human flesh trapped underneath him.

“Keep fighting, little Keeper. It just makes me want to tear you apart.” He ground his hips down. The hard, unforgiving ridge of his erection pressed against my pussy through the layers of our clothing. “You are so fucking desperate for this. Dripping wet in my hallway, playing the terrified victim while your pussy aches for my cock.”

I lunged forward, closing the narrow distance between our faces, and sank my teeth into his lower lip. I bit down hard, channeling every ounce of my frustration and twisted desire into the attack. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to tear his flesh and taste iron. But his skin remained flawless, an impenetrable barrier of invulnerability disguised as human softness.

Cipher let out a low groan and smiled against my mouth. His silver eyes looked terrifying in the hellish red light of the corridor.

“You want me to bleed, Annie?” he murmured. He clamped his own teeth down on his lower lip and a bead of dark blood welled up from the self-inflicted wound.

He captured my mouth, forcing my lips apart. The metallic taste of his blood was shocking against my tongue. I deepened the kiss trying to draw more from the already closed wound. I gasped when cold metal snapped around my wrists.

While I’d been blinded by the haze of adrenaline and arousal, he had cuffed me.

“Get these off me,” I snarled, thrashing wildly beneath him.

He captured my hands between us and pulled out a length of black material. I tried to fight against him, but it was useless as he wrapped it tightly over my eyes, knotting it at the base of my skull. The hellish red light vanished, plunging me back into darkness.

“I’m taking you somewhere special, Annie.” He hauled me up and tossed me over his shoulder. “A place deep within the Labyrinth only I can access.” His hand clamped down on the back of my thigh, his fingers biting into my flesh just below the hem of my dress. “No one but me will hear you scream down here. And I will make you scream.”

I heard the soft hum of machinery, followed by the smooth slide of doors opening. The elevator. He stepped inside, and my stomach lurched as it started moving.

“Put me down,” I wheezed, wiggling against his shoulder.

He didn’t answer.

The elevator stopped and he carried me out, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic. A door hissed open and he walked a few more paces before dumping me.

I hit the floor hard and I scrambled to sit up. My first instinct was to get the blindfold off. But as I reached up, trying to snag the fabric, there was a tug on the chain of my cuffs.

“Ah-ah,” he tutted.

I yelped as he dragged me backward over the floor.

“Cipher, stop!”

He ignored me.

He hauled me to my feet by the wrists, yanking them far above my head. I heard a metallic clack above me, then the distinct sound of a lock engaging.

He let go but my arms remained up. My cuffs were attached to something hanging from the ceiling. The chain was short, just long enough that I could stand flat-footed if I kept my posture absolutely perfect. If I slumped, if my knees buckled, the metal would bite into my wrists and wrench my shoulders.

I was strung up. Exposed and blind.

“Comfortable?” his voice came from behind me.