Page 27 of Always A Villain (Revenge Duet #2)

M y scream rips through the darkness, the echo of my mom's cries pounding in my head. It’s the dead of night, and I jolt upright, choking on the panic clawing at my chest.

“Rory.” His voice is deep as his arm slips around my waist, pulling me against his chest. A rough yet soothing kiss presses to the top of my head. “You're okay. It's just a dream.”

I curl into him, but the tears spill over anyway. A sob escapes, and I hate how weak it makes me feel.

“I'm here.” His grip tightens. “Breathe, little siren,” he whispers, and just like that, the panic fades.

“I'm sorry,” I mutter, pulling in a deep breath.

“Don’t apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”

I hesitate, the familiar lump forming in my throat. “It’s always the same,” I manage, my voice barely holding steady. “ It’s my mom...that night. The night they killed her.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps tracing small circles on my skin, his warmth seeping into me.

“I need to talk to you about something,” he says carefully, like he’s not sure how I’ll react.

“What is it?” I pull back a little, already suspicious.

“It’s about the night your mother died.” He clears his throat, not meeting my gaze right away. “I’ve been looking into the police investigation.”

My eyebrows pinch. “What? Why?”

He finally looks at me, his expression hard. “The men responsible should’ve been caught. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I promise I’ll get you answers.”

“Axe...” My voice wavers.

Trying to make sense of it all, I stare at him. This isn’t the man who forced me into a marriage I never wanted, the man who hurt me and made me hate him. His gaze is intense, but his behavior is all wrong for the monster I know him to be.

This...this feels too real .

“Rory,” he rasps, softer now, almost vulnerable. “I can’t undo what happened. But I can find the truth. For you.” His thumb traces the scar on my wrist, and I fight the instinct to pull away. “The men who made you do this to yourself...” His jaw tics. “They don’t deserve to live.”

His hand slides to the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair. “Come here.”

I move into him, straddling his lap without a second thought. My hands frame his face, fingers digging into his skin as I press my lips to his.

I grind against him slowly, feeling him harden beneath me.

His grip on my waist tightens, a growl rumbling low in his chest as I rock my hips harder, teasing him.

Teeth grazing my lip, he bites just enough to draw a gasp from me, the sharp pain mixing with pleasure in a way that makes my blood sing.

“Fuck, you're so fucking perfect,” he groans, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping me closer.

I keep moving against him, our kiss breaking, leaving us both panting. He flips me effortlessly, pinning me beneath him, and his weight presses me into the mattress. His lips trail down my jaw, his teeth sinking into my neck.

“Axel,” I moan.

His hand reaches around my throat, squeezing tight. “You're fucking mine, Rory.”

With his hand still tight around my neck, he flips me onto my stomach. I push my ass up, grinding against his hardness.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmurs, rough and teasing, eyes nearly black.

“Axe, please.”

“I love hearing you beg.” He drags his tongue along my neck. As he shifts slightly, I hear a faint rustling. I look down just as he draws a length of rope from under the bed. “Hands up,” he orders.

My heart skips, but I obey, raising my arms above my head. He loops the rope around my wrists, knotting it tight and securing me to the headboard. Then he tugs my hair back, baring my throat to him, and leans in close.

He hums against my skin, his lips caressing my neck as he whispers, “Such a good girl, doing as you’re told.” The praise sends a pulse of heat through me, my whole body straining toward him .

When he pulls back, I feel the bed lighten as his weight shifts off. The door opens, and he slips through it, his silhouette fading into the dark hallway.

“Axe?”

Silence.

“Where are you going?”

Nothing.

I twist against the ropes, muscles straining with a flicker of panic. My gaze snaps to the doorway, straining to catch the sight or sound of him—of anything.

“Axe, get back here!”

Nothing. No answer, no footsteps.

Frustration has me ready to shout again when I finally hear him. The heavy thud of his footsteps approaches. He stops in the doorway, his shadow swallowing the room—and something catches the light in his hand.

A knife.

The masked man's knife.

His knife.

“Axe…”

He lets out a low, sinister chuckle. “I’ve seen you put this to good use. Moaning my name with it buried in your cunt.” His shadow grows with each step he takes toward the bed.

A furious blush ignites my cheeks, instantly matched by a surge of anger. “You have cameras in my room!?”

His smirk is unmistakable, even in the dimness. “Little siren, there isn’t a single inch of this house I can’t see. I also enjoyed watching you touch yourself in the shower, crying out my name.”

“You’re a sick, twisted pervert! How fucking dare you—” My retort cuts off abruptly as his hand clasps over my mouth, his heavy weight pressing me into the mattress as he climbs on top of me.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you into real trouble.”

“Go to hell,” I spit, my words muffled under his palm.

He chuckles again, his breath hot against my ear. “Hell?” he purrs. “I am hell. And you’re my fallen angel.”

Bringing the knife up to my line of vision, he drags the cool metal down my arm, leaving a tingling line of goosebumps.

“The first time I fucked you with this knife, I saw how badly you wanted the darkness.” The blade’s tip traces over the curve of my hip. His hand releases from my mouth, and I suck in a deep gasp as he shifts, his hips locking me beneath him.

His cock presses firmly against my ass, and he rocks forward, grinding between my cheeks, teasing me. Anger melts into a fresh, uncontrollable rush of need.

“I know what you like, little siren.” He drags the blade lower, the blunt edge scraping over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

“All your filthy secrets, your twisted little cravings…I know it all.” The knife presses deeper; it’s not cutting, but the sting is enough to remind me of who’s in control—of how much he could take if he wanted.

“You want my darkness, Rory. You want me .”

The blade’s handle glides through my wetness, pressing against my entrance.

“Tell me, Rory. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you with this.”

My mind spins. Right now, he’s everything that pulls me in, everything that’s my downfall .

“Please,” I whisper, the word slipping out breathlessly. “Please, Axe. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he growls, stretching me open with the handle. A moan spills out of me as the cold steel sends a shock rippling down my spine. He twists it, digging in, a delicious sting that makes me shudder. Slowly, he pulls it out, only to shove it back in, his other hand gripping me hard.

I barely register the sensation before his hand shifts, and I feel a cool wetness drip onto my asshole—his spit, slick and spreading as his fingers rub it into me.

“Oh fuck,” I pant, realization dawning on me. He's going to fuck my ass. I start to pull against the restraints, and he slams the handle of the knife harder inside me, making me gasp.

“Stay still.”

“I’m still sore…from the woods and the crash.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs darkly, his grip on my hip intensifying, fingers toying with each bruise. “And you’ll take it anyway, won’t you?”

I start to protest, but his hand clamps over my mouth, and he rams his cock inside my ass, his other hand still working the knife handle in my pussy. I cry out into his palm, the pain ricocheting through me.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pulling out and shoving his cock in again, each thrust harder than the last. “Take all of me, little siren. You can handle it. You love it when I hurt you.”

He’s right. I’m completely insane because this brutal treatment ignites something deep inside me, even when I hate it.

Pain blooms with every harsh movement, tears streaming down my cheeks as he leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, his cock buried in my ass.

Each thrust forces a guttural groan from my throat, and his hand keeps working the knife, twisting it just right, making my body buzz, on the edge of breaking apart.

“Don’t move too much, little siren. The knife is sharp.”

He fucks me harder, his cock slamming in and out, the knife handle digging into me more. Every mark he leaves, every vicious bite, every thrust—I feel myself spiraling, the edges of my sanity fraying.

Then I scream, the sound choked by his hand, as I spasm through my release. His grunts deepen, driving me harder into the mattress.

“You’ve fucking ruined me, Rory.” He yanks my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze—eyes wild and primal, not quite human.

With a low groan, he pulls the knife out, and the jarring emptiness is almost shocking.

But it’s fleeting as his body slams against mine, pinning me down with his weight. I can’t breathe.

The new angle allows him to sink even deeper, and I scream.

He’s everywhere—in my body, my head, my heart. He wraps an arm around my chest, pulling me tight against him, the ropes biting into my wrists.

“I’ve never given a fuck about anything in my life.

I fucking love you, Rory. I’d die for you.

I’ve never felt anything like this. It tears me apart knowing the shit I’ve done to you, but you’re mine.

You belong to me. Nobody will ever have you, touch you, or even think about touching you.

You’re everything I never knew I wanted.

Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go. ”

“Axe,” I pant, rocking back against him. He feels so good, his cock, the pain, the pleasure, everything about him. His words, his touches, the way he holds me.