Page 109 of Villainous Rise

The tension coiled tight within me, winding up until it snapped. I sobbed his name, my inner muscles clenching violently, milking his cock as I came.

Cipher fucked me through the climax. His breathing turned to harsh, ragged pants. He drove into me one final time and his hips locked tight against mine, grinding into me as he came.

He caught my face in his hands, his thumbs smearing the tears across my cheeks, and brought his mouth down on mine. We kissed through the aftershocks, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, desperate to consume every breath, every sound. I dragged my hands down his sweat-slicked back, pressing him closer, eliminating the microscopic space between our bodies.

“Don’t stop,” I begged against his lips. I pulled him closer, needing his body fused permanently to my skin.

Cipher swallowed the rest of my words, until there was nothing left of the room, the world, or the past.

CHAPTER 19

CIPHER

I watched Annie sleep beside me, her body curled against mine like she belonged there. The false window displayed a gentle sunrise, casting golden light across her skin. I’d programmed it that way so that the warm, soft illumination would highlight the curves of her body and the peaceful expression on her face.

There was a seventy-three percent chance she’d wake up panicking. Eighty-six percent she’d try to leave immediately. Numbers I didn’t like, but couldn’t argue with based on empirical evidence. Not that the numbers mattered. If she tried to bolt, I would catch her. I would pin her back to the mattress and remind her exactly whose bed she was in.

My thumb barely stroked her lower back, careful not to wake her. Her skin was warm silk beneath my touch, marked here and there with evidence of last night. My fingerprints bruised her hips. Love bites mottled her neck and shoulders, blending into the faint red lines where I had used the riding crop on her.

My gaze drifted and snagged on the jagged line just below her left collarbone. The scar from Dread’s knife. I had put her in the position to take that blade and my betrayal carved that reminder into her skin.

Last night, driven by a possessive jealousy I still hadn’t fully contained, I had sunk my teeth directly over the silvered tissue. I wanted to overwrite the memory of my failure. Now a fresh ring of bruised and broken skin framed the old wound.

My thoughts fractured into a mess of guilt and dark satisfaction. I hurt her when she received the initial strike. I hurt her again trying to erase it.

After we had frantically fucked for hours, when she finally lay boneless in my arms, I had taken a warm cloth and meticulously cleaned the broken flesh. Now, I wanted to lean down and kiss the abused skin but I forced my jaw shut and remained still. Kissing the spot would wake her.

Instead, I memorized the curve of her spine, the constellation of freckles across her shoulder blades, the way her hair spilled across my pillow in tangled waves. Evidence that she was here, in my bed, where she belonged.

Mine. Even if I had to cage her to keep it that way.

Annie stirred beside me, her breathing pattern shifting from sleep to wakefulness. I braced myself for the inevitable tensing of her body when her mind remembered where she was and who she was with.

Her body tensed briefly against mine. Here it comes.

But instead of pulling away, she relaxed and shifted closer, her body molding against my side as her hand settled on my chest, right over my heart. My pulse jumped beneath her palm, a betrayal of my surprise that she’d notice if she were paying attention.

“Do you ever actually sleep?” Annie murmured, eyes still closed, “Or do you just lie awake all night watching me like some beautiful, creepy statue?”

I froze, uncertain how to navigate this unexpected development. Annie wasn’t running. Wasn’t creating distance.

“I sleep,” I answered. “Just not much.”

Her fingers traced the lines of the tattoos that guided my suit. They briefly flared under her touch, the light chasing her finger tips and I shivered. “That’s not an answer to my question.”

“Fine. Yes, I watch you sleep.” No point in lying about something so obvious. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re not glaring at me or planning my murder. Though you’re also gorgeous when you are.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Mmm. Debatable. On both counts.”

This felt like a trap. Annie willingly touching me, teasing me, without the protection of anger or the mask or the darkness.

“You’re still here,” I said, unable to keep the note of suspicion from my voice.

“Observant. They don’t call you a genius for nothing.”

My hand hovered over her hair, wanting to touch but wary of shattering this fragile moment. “Usually by now you’re halfway to the door, cursing my existence.”

Annie’s eyes finally opened, blue and clear and looking directly into mine.