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For those who love them villainous
“One day, you will owe me a favor for this. You will give me anything I ask of you,” he said softly.
“If it is order that you value, then I will bring you nothing but chaos.”
“I very much look forward to reminding you how much I hate you when I bury my cock between your thighs.”
One thing was clear. I wanted to fuck Willow Madizza. She’d just have to be awake when I did it.
“Maybe then you’ll see me the way you seem inclined to pretend you do.” The smile drifted off my face slowly, leaving me to gape up at him as the meaning of the words struck me in the chest. That guilt resumed its grip on me, and it was only through a careful mask that I brightened my smile all over again even as I dreaded what his admission might mean of what I’d suspected to be interest. Correctly, it seemed. Iban leaned in, touching his lips to my cheek sweetly and lingering just a moment past what was appropriate. “Enjoy your games, Willow, but just know I play to win.”
“Right. Taking off my clothes while I slept was entirely innocent—” “You looked uncomfortable, but I did not touch you beyond that. Make no mistake, I want you to scream my name the first time I fuck you, not sleep through it, Witchling,”
“The next time you lie to me, I’m likely to make it so that you cannot speak at all.” “Good luck with that,” I said, huffing a laugh against his thumb as I pulled back. It pressed my ass into his thighs, the bare skin of my back touching his chest and sending a jolt of pain through me. “Unless you intend to gag me, you’re unlikely to be able to shut me up.” “You would definitely be gagging, Witchling,” he growled, and the bolt that shot through me was one of shock. Oh. Swallowing, I forced that moment to pass and slid back into the carefully controlled persona. The seducer who would be
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“If I bent you over the sink right now and fucked you, you’d welcome every minute of it, wouldn’t you?”
“Do you think any others will make you feel like this?”
“Your hips are grinding on me, just begging for me to fuck you into the wall.”
“I hate you,” I muttered, pulling his hair harder. He chuckled, pressing his mouth to mine gently as I tossed my head back. “I don’t give a fuck about that. All that matters to me is how pretty you’ll look writhing on my cock.”
“God has nothing to do with the things I’m going to do to you, Witchling,”
“I think it’s time you acknowledge that it is too late to save yourself from me, love.”
“You fight. Every moment of every day, you fight. Because that is who you are,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to mine. “What happens when I’m tired of fighting?” I asked, trying to ignore the pool of tears threatening to fall. Hoping the water from the shower would wash them away before he could notice. His face softened, his lips touching mine in a kiss that was so much more delicate than any other. “Then you let me do it for you.”
“I cannot love you in this form,” he said, his voice softening as he took my other hand in his and rested it atop the chest of his other body. His true body. “But I can in my own. Let me love you as you deserve, Witchling.”
