Page 42 of Always A Villain

Her small frame curls against me like she belongs there, soft where I’m rough.

Wrapping her in a towel, I carry her back to the bed. I lay her down carefully, her wet hair spilling across the pillow. She doesn’t stir, her breathing steady, soft snores breaking the silence.

Grabbing the ointment, I start to work it into her raw skin. She’s torn up, marked by the night we had, but the cream will soothe it. As I massage it into her, she sighs in her sleep, her body reacting even in unconsciousness.

I kiss her shoulder, then slide into bed beside her, pulling her close. I don’t know what the hell this is. What we are. But I know I want it.

Relationships—never had one. Never wanted one. My life has been nothing but violence, depravity, and pain. Love? Trust? That’s foreign to me. But for her…I want it.

I’ll fight for it.

I want her to trust me. To love me.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.

Iwake slowly, every inch of my body sore, a dull ache that reminds me of everything that happened. His room. His arms. I can feel his naked body against mine, his warmth wrapping around me.

Our legs are tangled, his grip possessive, holding me close. It feels incredible.

Moonlight filters in, casting faint shadows over the room, making it hard to see clearly. The memories start flooding back—every raw, intense moment in the woods. The roughness, the heat. The bath? Yeah, I vaguely remember him cleaning me, putting me to bed afterward.

He took care of me.

It hits me like a punch to the gut—the way he’s been. The way he always seems to know when I need him, just like when I fell from the trapeze. Who is this guy, and what thehell is he doing to me? My head’s a mess, thoughts spinning in a tangled knot of confusion and something else I’m not ready to face.

But god, what he did to me tonight. It was insane. He was savage, brutal, and so damn primal. And I wanted it.

Every second.

Fear and pleasure twisted together until I couldn’t tell the difference.

He fucked me like a wild animal.

And I loved it.

Never in my life have I felt so alive, so on edge. Nothing comes close. His hands, his cock, the way he made me feel—completely and utterly dominated. It was absolutely terrifying, and it was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

His arm moves, fingers lazily tracing along my skin. There’s something tender in the way he touches me now, like he’s holding back some of that wildness. And that’s the part that really messes with me.

“Are you awake?” His voice is low, rough against my neck, his lips brushing my skin.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles, deep and throaty, the sound vibrating against my back.

I roll over, meeting those burning eyes. They’re dark, harsh, but there’s a softness too, which makes my chest tighten. His fingers graze my cheek, and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“If I liked what we did tonight...” My voice is softer than I expect, and I hate how vulnerable it sounds. “What does that mean?” I avoid his gaze for a second, embarrassed by myown question.

“It means you're perfect,” he says with no hesitation, pulling me tighter against him. “Absolutely perfect.” His voice is so damn sure, like there’s no room for argument.

Perfect? I’ve never been anyone’s perfect anything. And right now, I don’t know if I believe him. But lying here, wrapped in his arms, I want to. Just for this moment, I want to believe I could be someone’s perfect.

My face presses against his warm, hard chest. His hands drift gently over my back, tracing light patterns that make me melt against him. I’ve never had a man touch me like this, and it feels like more than just sex. It scares the hell out of me. I shouldn’t enjoy this. I shouldn’t feel these things, especially not for him.

“What was that?” The question slips out. “What you did to me tonight...”

“I’ve been dreaming about fucking you like that for a long time. I knew you would like it.”