Page 40 of The Villain

He listened. Because of course he did. He knew who he belonged to—or at least his body did. I walked into the closet and opened a few drawers until I found the items I was looking for. I hadn’t planned on this, but my head was too full to focus on anything else.

I wanted to open Devlin up, in more ways than one.

After shoving a bottle of lube in my back pocket, I emerged from the closet. Devlin still hadn’t moved. He faced the front door, his back to me, hands clasped behind his back. I stepped infront of him and held up a flesh-colored silicone dildo. Without a word, I slapped it against my palm, letting the heavy smack echo around the apartment.

Devlin’s eyes went wide when they landed on the toy, and his cock gave an excited jerk between his legs. I knew what would happen next. Hell, what Iwantedto happen deep down.

Devlin turned on his heel and bolted.

Devlin

White noise roared through my ears, and my body reacted on instinct. I turned to run, but Cian was faster. In an instant, he had me shoved facedown onto his coffee table with a hand on the back of my neck. My knees hit the hard floor, my upper body pinned flat. I tried to push myself upright, but he pressed down harder.

“Try to get up again, and I’ll tie your hands. Now clasp them behind your back.”

My cock and balls hung between my spread thighs, and the cold air in the apartment brushed over my hole. I was so exposed, and I trembled as I followed his instructions. My fingers laced together at the small of my back. With my cheek pressed to the side, his jean-clad legs filled my vision.

Cian crouched next to me, and I could see the bulge of his cock pressing against his fly. My mouth watered. His hand left the back of my neck, and he tapped the dildo on my cheek. Then he dragged it down to press the head against my mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

My cock jerked between my legs as I parted my lips to let him slide the toy inside.

“Just the tip.” His voice was dangerously low. “The only dick you choke on is mine.”

His gaze stayed fixed on my mouth. In and out. In and out. Giving me just the bulbous head and nothing else. I ached for the muskiness of his skin, not the sterile taste of silicone. But my muscles started to settle, and I tongued the toy as my panic began to subside.

Because of course I fucking liked this. Head empty, mouth open, nothing but following orders.

“We both know you want this,” Cian rumbled. “So why did you run?”

I couldn’t speak, not with the silicone dick stretching my lips. But Cian didn’t want my words—he already knew the answer.

“You like it when you’re a little scared. When I have to make you. That’s what gets you the hardest.”

A humiliating whimper clawed up my throat, and I could feel my cock leaking. Fuck him for reading me so well.

He pulled the dildo from my mouth. “Hands flat on the table, devil.”

My muscles took a second to comply as he pulled a bottle of lube from his back pocket. My hole flexed involuntarily, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart thudding against the table like a drumbeat. Sure, I’d used toys in my ass—but it had been a long fucking time. Maybe years. At least the dildo had the decency to be smaller than Cian’s monster dick.

He squirted lube on the silicone cock and slicked the shaft with quick, sloppy movements that filled the apartment with obscene sounds. My body couldn’t decide what to focus on: the blood rushing to my dick, the ache in my balls, or the twitching ring of muscle in my ass that clenched like it knew what was coming.

Then Cian held the lube bottle above my back, and I felt cold liquid hit my crack, sliding over my hole. Running downmy balls. Dripping onto the floor. Cian shifted behind me, and I lifted my chest, trying to keep my eyes on him. He pushed down on my upper back.

“Stop.”

Right.Stay.I could do that. I exhaled slowly, then waited.

A smacking thud sounded behind me, followed by the rustle of fabric. Then Cian was once again in my view as he settled onto the couch in front of me. He’d taken off his T-shirt, and the button on his jeans was popped open.

“Sit back on your heels.”

I pushed up from the coffee table and slowly sank back, my hands sliding into my lap. Something brushed the small of my back, and I jerked before turning around to see the dildo suctioned to the floor behind me. A pit opened in my stomach. My palms curled against my thighs. My cock twitched.

The only light in the apartment came from a dim bulb over the sink behind me, and Cian’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. With a swipe of his claw-covered hand, he shoved the coffee table to the side, and it scraped away from us with a clatter on its wobbly legs. In his other hand, he held a remote—not the one for the shock collar.

Cian’s boots were planted wide apart, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, the remote held where I could still see it.