Page 130 of Villainous Rise

Despite my best efforts, I was still rock hard. She did that to me without even trying. Without even being conscious.

I carefully adjusted our position, just enough to prevent her from feeling my erection against her thigh. I wouldn’t wake her. She needed sleep more than I needed release.

I tried to focus on anything else other than the feel of her. My mind replayed her words from the warehouse. “My boyfriend would kill you.” Not Valor. Me. She had claimed me, publicly, without hesitation. The memory sent a rush of possessive satisfaction through my veins.

I shouldn’t fixate on the word. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Christ. The term was absurdly inadequate for what she was to me. What we were to each other.

Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her. About the fact that everyone thought she belonged to Valor.

The thought of him touching her, parading her around in the daylight like some trophy he’d earned, made my blood simmer. I wanted to drag him into one of my labs and take him apart and learn the exact pitch of his screams, find out exactly how much pain a Super could endure before they broke. I’d make it last days. Weeks, maybe. And all because he got to hold her hand in front of the cameras.

Annie shifted in her sleep, her fingers trailing across my chest and directly over the junction where three of my guide tattoos intersected just below my pectoral.

My entire body went rigid as the sensation shot straight to my cock, which apparently had forgotten about the shower. Every time she touched one of my tattoos, it was like she’d found some kind of override switch I didn’t know existed. She was hooked into my nervous system, lighting it up until all I could feel was the beat of her heart tangling with the rush of my own blood.

I gripped the sheets to keep from rolling her beneath me and burying myself inside her.

Her fingers twitched again, brushing the same spot and I bit my tongue to keep from groaning.

“Goddamn it,” I mouthed, shifting her hand slightly so it was no longer in danger of brushing the spot. “I literally just came. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My dick, predictably, didn’t answer.

I took a deep breath, focusing on the cool air entering my lungs rather than the warmth of her body pressed against mine. This was ridiculous. I’d never lacked control before her. Never been this desperate, this needy.

Never been this fucking hard after already getting off.

I wondered how easily I could just jack off again, laying next to her. But with the way she was draped over me, I’d definitely wake her up with the movement.

Fuck.

Maybe I should just get up. Go back to the bathroom. Take care of the persistent fucking problem for the second time in twenty minutes.

I scowled at the ceiling. This was absurd. I was not going to spend the night hiding in the bathroom fucking jacking off. I’m a goddamn Super Villain. I have more dignity than that.

I tried to shift away from her, to create some space between us. Her leg was still thrown over mine, her hand now resting dangerously close to my cock. If I could just ease out from under her without⁠—

“Are you going to do anything about that?” Annie’s voice, thick with sleep but unmistakably amused, cut through the darkness.

I froze. Shit. How long had she been awake?

“Go back to sleep,” I told her. “I’m fine.”

She made a sleepy little noise in the back of her throat, something between a laugh and a hum. “Doesn’t feel fine to me.”

Her hand wrapped around my cock.

“Fuck,” I hissed, my hips jerking involuntarily into her touch as she stroked me once, from base to tip, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head.

“I thought you were asleep,” I managed to say, my voice strained as she tightened her grip slightly.

“I was.” Her thumb circled the head of my cock again, spreading precum. Her strokes were languid, unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to drive me out of my mind.

“Annie,” I groaned, not sure if I was warning her or begging her.

“Hmm?” She pressed her lips to my shoulder, her breath warm against my skin. She twisted her hand slightly on the upstroke, and my train of thought derailed completely.

“Fuck, Annie.”