Page 99 of Villainous Rise

Make up your mind, Annie. Stay or go. Choose.

I could see how tightly wound she was after just two days apart. The shadows under her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands. She was falling apart, and it was killing me.

I moved, crossing the space between us. My hands went to her face, tilting it up as my mouth claimed hers.

She gasped against my lips, her hands pressing against my chest as she pulled back. “We can’t,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “The match⁠—”

“We are,” I said, my voice brooking no argument. I backed her against the door, one hand sliding to the back of her neck. I wanted to destroy that perfect twist, but refrained. “We absolutely fucking are.”

I slid my hand beneath her skirt, fingers tracing up her thigh until I found her already slick and ready. The discovery sent a surge of satisfaction through me.

“Fuck, Annie,” I growled against her mouth. “Already wet for me.”

She moaned even as her hands pushed weakly at my chest. I could feel the conflict in her body. She wanted me but she was fighting herself. Classic Annie Bishop, trapped between desire and duty.

“Cipher, I can’t—“ Her voice hitched as my fingers circled her clit. “Someone might⁠—”

I silenced her with another kiss, deeper this time, claiming her mouth the way I wanted to claim the rest of her. When I pulled back, her eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide.

“You were supposed to message me,” I said, keeping my fingers moving in slow circles. “Tell me when you got this wound up.”

She shook her head, her perfect professional mask crumbling with each stroke of my fingers. “You were preparing for the match. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Bullshit.” I pressed harder, making her gasp. “You think I give a fuck about anything else when you’re like this? When you’re falling apart?” I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re the only thing that matters to me. The only fucking thing. So tell me when you need me.”

Annie’s laugh was breathless, almost desperate against my mouth. Her body trembled beneath my touch, caught between surrender and control.

“If I messaged you every time I needed you,” she admitted, “you’d probably hear from me every day right now.”

She needed me. Every fucking day.

I pressed my forehead against hers, my fingers stilling against her cunt. “Then you’re spending every fucking night in my bed from now on.”

Her eyes widened. “Cipher, we can’t⁠—“

“We can. We will.” I wasn’t asking. This wasn’t a negotiation.

I slid my fingers inside her, feeling her clench around me. Her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, exposing the elegant line of her throat.

“Ten minutes until match time,” she gasped, even as her hips rocked against my hand.

I smirked against her skin. “Plenty of time to make you come, Keeper.”

Her hands gripped my suit, no longer pushing me away but pulling me closer. “Havoc will kill you if I’m late.”

“Worth it,” I growled.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she surrendered. Just like that, the perfect, professional Keeper was gone, replaced by the woman who craved what only I could give her.

My Annie.

I curled my fingers inside her, hitting that spot that always made her lose control. Her body tensed, her inner walls clenching around my fingers as I worked her toward release. I knew exactly how to touch her, how much pressure, how fast, when to slow down just enough to drive her crazy.

“Come for me,” I demanded against her mouth. “Now, Annie.”

She came instantly, like she’d been waiting for permission. Her body convulsed around my fingers, her mouth open in a silent scream as she rode out her orgasm. I swallowed the small sounds she made, keeping my hand moving until she grabbed my wrist, oversensitive.

“Fuck,” I whispered, watching her face as she came down. Nothing in the world compared to Annie Bishop losing control. Nothing.