Page 67 of Always A Villain

My 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 tooreal.

“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 beneathme. 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.