Page 25 of The Villain's Beast

Chapter 17

Luca

It was fine that Gideon didn’t want to fuck me yet. I wouldn’t stop trying because I never stopped trying. There wasn’t a single thing in my life that anyone simply handed me. I’d fought for all of it, my name included.

I was the bastard son of Charles Mandeville, born to a mistress out of wedlock. That wasn’t so uncommon in circles men like Gideon and I grew up in, but being abandoned by your mother on a white marble doorstep at the age of six had to have been somewhat unusual. Being housed in servants’ quarters until a paternity test came back to prove the truth of the handwritten letter clutched in your hand, not normal.

The letter was the last thing I had of my mother. Not that I remembered her in any way, but sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, I would trace my fingers over the worn and tired cursive to remind myself of where I’d come from and where I was meant to go. I would never know what my mother was thinking the day she gave up and dropped me off at the Mandeville mansion, but I like to tell myself if she’d have known what was in store for me, she would have acted differently. Maybe she’d imagined getting a Mandeville into her bed would be enough to secure her the future she always dreamed about, but that would have beenchildish of her. Men like my father took mistress after mistress after mistress, his wife always turning a blind eye because she had already secured what everyone else wanted.

After confirming I was, in fact, my father’s child, I found myself moved out of the servants’ quarters and into a small room in an unused wing of the house, far away from my father and even farther away from my half-siblings. An older sister and a younger brother. They despised me as much as my step-mother did, which was fine. I didn’t care for them much either.

I always assumed I’d attend the right schools and meet the right people as a courtesy, not a birthright. So when my father told me three years earlier I was going to RHU, I was shocked. When he’d called me up later to let me know I was expected to step in as second my senior year, I’d choked on my tongue. It was as much a recognition of my lineage that he’d ever given me, and it only made my younger brother hate me more.

“Get close to the Norths,” my father had said. “Make me proud.”

Gideon North represented nothing to me except opportunity. If I could get him to trust me, I’d finally earn my father’s respect. But my third year at school, things had gotten complicated.

I’d fallen in love, and not with Gideon North.

Duty had eventually required me to push my need for Daren aside and call up the things that had worked for me throughout my teenage and early adult years in an attempt to get close to Gideon after his arrival on campus. Unfortunately, it all fell flat when it came to him. I could tell he wanted me, or at least wanted to fuck me, but for some reason, he held himself back.

He’d been close this time, I told myself, slinking downstairs to my own private bedroom. My cock still ached and while I was definitely using sex to try and get to Gideon on behalf of my father, I really did just want him to fuck me. It had been weekssince I was with Daren, the bruises shaped like his fingers nearly gone from my skin.

Gideon talked about hurting me and tearing me apart, losing control, and that was exactly what I wanted from him. If I couldn’t have the man I loved, at least I could get fucked until I forgot both of our names.

My favorite kind of sex was the kind that left me a little worried I’d gotten in over my head before getting on my back. It was the way most of my father’s friends liked to fuck, and the power that came from that kind of thing was heady.

It was what I knew.

A sliver of fear mixed with dripping arousal was enough to have my cock shooting off like a goddamn geyser, and when I made it back to my room and slammed the door closed, I tried to imagine how Gideon would fuck, if he ever did.

He was so much bigger than me, taller and broader, and there was no way his cock didn’t match the rest of him. Maybe he would use lube, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would spit on his thick shaft and impale me on it, lifting my toes off the ground for how hard he forced his way into me. Most of my father’s friends were small-handed old men who preferred to use their hands to hurt me.

That was okay sometimes too.

I imagined Gideon could do both.

Licking my palm and taking my cock back into my hand, I closed my eyes and pretended Gideon’s fingers curled around my throat, taking my breath away while he pounded himself into me. I didn’t think Gideon would choke me until I passed out, but that had happened before and I didn’t hate it. It was a little disconcerting, but the orgasms were worth it.

My father had a friend that liked to fuck that way too.

I imagined Gideon would rut into me like the beast he was, growling and grunting as he tried to saw me in half with his dick.In my fantasy, he’d come so much inside of me, it would drip down my thighs before he even pulled out, and he’d call me a loose whore for not being able to keep it all in.

Shivering, the thoughts brought a sharp and unexpected orgasm up from the base of my spine and I came with a stifled cry. Collapsing onto my knees, I painted the floor with spurts of sticky, white cum, then I cleaned it up with my tongue, sighing and closing my eyes.

Trying to forget that father had a lot of friends.

Trying to forget Daren too.

Chapter 18

Fletcher

It was initiation weekend, and Daren stepped up close behind me, pressing his palm against the small of my back. We were alone in my third floor bedroom, muffled conversation drifting up from the basement.

“This is a barbaric tradition,” he said.

“You’re not wrong. But…”