Page 23 of Always A Villain (Revenge Duet #2)

H er pussy tightens around my cock, and my name rips from her throat. I slam into her harder, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing off the walls. Every thrust drives deeper, her body squeezing me like she was made for this—for me.

Mine. Completely. Forever.

I grip her waist, forcing her to take every inch. She’s still wrung out, over-sensitive, but I don’t let up. Every breathy gasp, every ragged moan fuels the need raging inside me, my blood pounding as I chase that final rush.

“Fuck, little siren,” I grunt through clenched teeth, driving deep one last time as I come, filling her with my cum.

I hold her tight, keeping her against the wall, my cock buried inside her, making sure she takes every drop.

Her back molds to my chest. I press a kiss to her shoulder, my lips grazing her damp skin.

“I love you, Rory.”

The words feel strange, but they escape me like a fucking confession.

Her body stiffens. “What did you say?”

“I love you.” I swallow roughly.

She pulls away, my cock sliding out. Turning in my hold, eyes wide, face streaked with tears, she stares up at me. I can see the war inside her—the disbelief, the pain, the fucking devastation I caused.

“I’ve never said those words to anyone,” I admit, my thumb brushing her jaw. “Not my parents. Not my brother. No one. I never knew what they meant until you.”

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks as she yanks her leggings up, creating distance.

“I don’t believe you,” she chokes out.

“I don’t give a shit,” I snap, zipping my pants.

“How can you say you love me after everything you’ve done?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Because it’s true.” I step forward, but she flinches, pressing herself against the wall. The look on her face guts me in a way nothing ever has.

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Rory.” I move closer, but she sidesteps me. Extending my arm, I cut her off.

She’s seething when her eyes meet mine again. “I. Don’t. Believe. You.”

“And I don’t need you to.” My hand moves to the gash on her cheek. She flinches at the touch, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Axe,” she says on an exhale, and fuck, the way she says my name... “If this is a game, then you can end it. I can’t keep living like this.”

“This isn’t a game, Rory.” I cup her face, but she jerks away. “This is real.”

She stares at me, eyes full of rage and pain. Then, her voice cracks wide open.

“Did you love me when you held me down and branded me?” she spits. “Or when you threw me in the basement and told me I was nothing but a hole for you to fuck?”

Her lip quivers, and she shoves past me, stumbling toward the window.

“No. I didn’t love you then.” But I fucking do now.

She lets out a bitter laugh. “Then why the hell should I believe you? You’ve done nothing but lie and hurt me.”

I don’t have an answer. Expressing this shit is like trying to fight blind. I step toward her again, but she tenses, backing up until she’s trapped against the wall.

“Are you even sorry?” Her fists press against my chest. She shoves, but I don’t move. “Do you feel guilty for any of this? Did you even fucking hesitate when you signed those papers?”

Fuck.

I grab her wrists, pinning her in place. Her chest rises and falls in panting breaths, her pulse hammering against my fingers.

“It was the hardest decision of my life. You were never supposed to find out.”

She tries to speak, but I silence her with my mouth, kissing her hard, desperate.

“I signed them to protect you from the Dolore,” I breathe against her lips.

She shakes her head, more tears slipping free.

“And when all this is over. I’ll drag you down that fucking aisle and marry you again.”

She whimpers, and I lean in, letting my lips ghost over her ear.

“You. Are. My. Wife.”

Her eyes narrow, pissed and hurt, and I force myself to soften.

“I never thought I’d feel this way about you.

Didn’t think I was capable of it. But you make me want things I never wanted before.

” The words like fucking glass in my throat.

“I’m not sorry for marking you. But I regret how I did it—out of anger.

I want to hurt you in the best way, not like that. ”

Her body stays rigid.

“I’m sorry for being an abusive, manipulative, controlling psychopath.”

She inhales sharply, recognizing what she said the night she trusted the masked man. “But most of all, I’m sorry it took me this long to realize what you mean to me,” I murmur, my lips caressing her neck.

“Why the mask? Why not just tell me it was you?”

“Because you didn’t hate him. You trusted him. You felt safe with him. I didn’t want to give that up. Couldn’t.”

She swallows hard, her body still tense in my grip.

“When I saw how you reacted to him, when I saw the way you needed him, it fucked with me. I wanted to be him. I craved it.” My voice drops lower. “I craved you. The real you.”

She shakes her head, another tear tracking down her cheek.

“Rory, you have no idea about the darkness inside me. The hate. The rage. The violence.” I lean in, my forehead brushing hers.

“That’s all I’ve ever known. Until you. When I’m with you, when I’m inside you, everything else fades.

For the first time in my life, I’m not drowning in fucking blood and death.

The more you needed him, the more I wanted to be him. ”

“Axe…” she whispers. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I don’t fucking deserve it.” My fingers tighten around her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “But you need to know I love you.”

I kiss her, rough and deep. She responds instantly, a whimper catching in her throat as my fingers tangle in her hair. I groan against her mouth, the taste of her mixed with the salt of her tears.

Then she stiffens, suddenly gasping, pulling back. “Oh my god—Bradley! What did you do to him?”

My entire body locks up at his fucking name.

“He got what he deserved,” I growl, jaw clenching. “I’ll spare you the details.”

Her face drains of color.

“What if someone finds out it was you?”

“You really don’t understand what I am, do you?” My lips curl into something sharp. “I can make anything disappear. I’m not just a Sovereign, little siren.” I grip her chin, tilting her face up to mine. “I’m the fucking Reaper.”

My gaze flicks to the angry red scrapes and cuts on her legs, stark against her porcelain skin. A deep, gnawing guilt threatens to suffocate me.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” I say, pulling out my phone and firing off a text to Griffen with our location for an immediate extraction.

“Axe,” she chokes out, voice small, terrified. “My father said the Sovereign will punish me for breaking my vow.”

Something feral snaps inside me.

“I’ll kill any bastard who tries to lay a fucking hand on you.”

Just the thought of Conrad makes my blood boil. The pain and abuse Rory has suffered because of him are unforgivable. Conrad will pay for every scar he’s left on her.

“No one will touch you, baby. I’ll handle everything.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, holding her against me.

Then—

The door swings open.

My hand flies to my gun as Griffen steps in.

“Jesus, Axe.” His sharp gaze darts to Rory, then back to me. “I saw your bike. The cops are swarming the area.”

“We need to leave. Rory needs medical attention.”

We slip into the shadows, moving fast toward the car. I open the back door, motioning for her to get in.

“Don’t take me to the Iron,” she pleads.

I exhale harshly. “We have to.” I don’t trust any other place. I shut the door with finality. She’s safest there.

Griff throws the car into drive. I glance at Rory in the rear-view mirror—her face pale, her arms wrapped around herself. The list of people who will face my wrath keeps growing, and I’ll make sure each fucking one of them pays for what they've done to her.