Page 88 of Villainous Rise

“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Don’t be kind to me.”

“Why not?” His thumb traced my lower lip.

“Because I can’t—“ My throat closed around the words. “I can fight everything else about you, but not this.”

His silver eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Then stop fighting.”

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The violence, the hate-sex? That made sense. That I could compartmentalize. But gentleness? Tenderness? That would destroy whatever resistance I had left.

“I can’t,” I repeated, even as my body leaned into his touch.

“You can still hate me, Annie. Hate me with every fiber of your being. Just let me touch you while you do it.”

My mind fractured into a thousand jagged pieces. If I stayed in this room, if I looked at him for one more second, I would have to face the truth of who I was. I would have to acknowledge the darkness I craved and the monster I wanted to keep. I needed to run, to escape the reflection he held up to me, but I knew he would never let me go.

I shoved against his chest, throwing my weight into the strike. A raw sound tore out of my throat. The pressure built behind my eyes and the weight of my own exhaustion and fear, cracked open. A scream exploded out of me and my legs gave out. I couldn’t stop the noise pouring from my mouth. I just knelt there, screaming and screaming, letting months of terror and longing rip their way out of me.

Cipher dropped down with me. His hands framed my face, his thumbs smoothing over my tear-soaked cheeks. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

“Stop it!” I shrieked, batting his hands away. “Stop being gentle!” My fingers hooked into the dark, armored plating of his suit. I yanked at the clasps, desperate to tear the barrier away, my nails scraping against the hardened material. “Take it off. Take it all off.”

He moved quickly and stripped away the armor and the undersuit, discarding the pieces until he stood completely naked before me.

I stayed on my knees, my breath hitching as I looked up at him. He was a masterpiece. Broad shoulders, heavy musculature, a deep V tapering down to his hips. The tattoos crisscrossing his skin only accentuated how perfectly built he was.

My chest ached with how much I wanted him.

I reached forward. The heat of his skin burned against my palms where I gripped his hips. I dragged him closer, pulling him right to the edge of my space. I needed him. I needed to own him.

I wrapped my hand around his cock, reveling in the weight and heat of it.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, his hands coming down to tangle in the messy strands of my hair.

Instead of answering, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.

This wasn’t for him. This was entirely, unapologetically for me. I wanted him at my mercy. That fleeting moment back in my bedroom, that desperate little taste he’d allowed, hadn’t been enough to satisfy the deep, gnawing hunger inside me. I needed the taste of his skin, the surrender inherent in his harsh groan.

I dragged my lips down the length of him, swallowing his quiet curse, taking exactly what I wanted. He belonged to me in this moment. Every shudder of his muscular thighs, every hitch in his breathing, was a direct response to my control. I tightened my grip on his hips, drawing him deeper, letting the motion quiet the chaos in my mind.

I worked the length of his cock with my mouth and tongue again and again until the muscles in his thighs bunched under my grip and his breathing turned harsh and ragged above me. He was losing his grip and I was the one dragging him over the edge.

“Swallow it all, Annie,” he ordered. “Every drop.”

He drove deep into the back of my throat and held me there. The hot, thick pulse of his cum hit the back of my tongue and I worked to swallow around him, taking everything he gave me.

When I finally pulled away, I stayed on my knees, panting.

Cipher traced the pad of his thumb along the corner of my mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

I didn’t want to be good. I parted my lips, took his thumb into my mouth, and bit down. I applied enough pressure to make him suck in a sharp breath. I loved the monster in front of me, and I would always bite back. I needed him to remember that was the line we walked.

Cipher yanked his hand back and hauled me to my feet.

His hands went straight for the hidden zipper at the back of my dress and I twisted away, batting his hands down. The silk and boning were the last barrier I had, my final shred of armor against the chaos he brought into my life. I needed the fabric. I needed a physical boundary between my skin and his control.

I shoved hard against his chest, but Cipher caught both of my wrists, pinning them together with one hand. A dark, wicked smirk curved his lips.