Page 22 of The Villain We Tempt

My mind was almost made up the second she soaked my pants with her cum. Now, I’m beyond sure.

She’s going to bemybad girl.

My plaything.

My personal Velvet Villainess.

My jaw goes slack as my muscles clench. My balls twitch and pull up, and I let out a loud, guttural groan as cum explodes out of my heavy cock and fills her lacy pink thong with sticky white ropes.

Hello, Villainess. Prepare to meet your new villain.

4

GALINA

The wordof the day is “flustered”.

As in, “flustered ever since I slept through my alarm for the first time ever and Arianna had to shake me awake so I wasn't late to class”.

Soflustered, in fact, that I managed to leave my room at The Atheneum this morning wearing mismatched black underwear and a red bra, which I realize isn’t a big deal to most people but Ineverdo it so it’s throwing off my whole day.

I even forgot to say hi to Long John Slither, the massive, prehistoric snake skeleton that hangs from the vaulted ceiling in the entryway to The Atheneum, which is kind of the Ouroboros mascot and a daily morning ritual for me to greet.

I walked into my Research Methods of Behavioral Science class instead of going to the library for my independent study period,that'show flustered I am. When Professor Baustis called me on it and asked me why I was there, sincemyclass had covered the material last Friday, I was so mortified that I made up a lie about "wanting to be sure I was fully immersed in it".

Ihatelying, especially to professors. But lying waswaybetter than telling the truth. I haven’t toldanyof my friends, not even Arianna.

Actually, for someone who prides herself on being so truthful all the time, I’ve been on a lyingspreesince the Para Bellum party last weekend.

I lied to my friends when I found them after stumbling out of the library, the lingering feeling of The Ghost Prince’s hands on my skin. His fingers still twisting and tugging at my nipple. Thehugebulge in his pants pulsing against my core.

Ari and Lucia said I looked scared or shaken. Wren, who washammeredby that point, had the most apt observation when she told me I “looked like I’d just seen a ghost”.

If only you knew, girl…

Of course, it was all made even worse by the fact that we’dliterally been watching his contentearlier that night while getting ready to go out, that video of him holding a knife to his crotch and stroking it like he was jerking off his cock.

…The same cock I rocked on top of later that same night.

Cameon.

I mean, Jesus.

Mercifully, I was spared my friends' questions by the reappearance of Yelena, who somehow looked even more freaked out and bedraggled than I did. At that point, it was clear Wren was super drunk. So Yelena made her getaway and took our friend home before we could question the haunted look in her eyes.

I mean jeez, you’d thinkshewas the one who’d just been blackmailed by the hottest man on MaskTok into giving him a lap dance.

Blackmailed.

That’s the other word of the day. It’s what I’ve landed on to best describe what happened on Friday at Kingsward Hall.

“Coerced” or “forced” feels a bit strong and makes me feel like a victim in an icky way that doesn’t sit that well with me. “Assaulted” isn’t right, either. Even though I know there’s plenty of examples of victims experiencing orgasm during assaults, that’s not what Friday was, and I know it.

So I’ve decided to call it “blackmailed”.

I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me lying to myself, since I’m on this new lying streak anyway. I mean, I lied to my friends, then I lied to Papa and Dad last night when I told them I was feeling under the weather and had to skip our usual Sunday night FaceTime appointment—because there was no way I was having a video call with Roman Nikitin and Val Bancroft with visions ofcoming all over a masked man’s erectionstill chasing through my head.

Nope.