Page 95 of Villains Never Die

“Tap my leg if this is too much,” I said, threading my fingers through the silky strands of his hair, then tightening them until he made a broken sound around my cock. I slammed into his throat and he choked, the last air in his lungs puffing out around me. He gasped as I withdrew and drove into him again, then took up a bruising pace, the head of my cock assaulting everything soft inside him. Quick, stuttering gasps came out of him at my pace, air fighting its way in around my shaft.

“I will not go anywhere,” I growled over the sound and the wet smack of my cock hitting the back of his throat over and over again. “You will not lose me.” My laugh bordered on cruel. “You couldn’t escape me if you wanted to.”

I shoved myself all the way down his throat until his chin jabbed into my balls and his breath stopped entirely. I held there, watching something in his blue eyes fracture and yield.

“Make my cock more precious than your breath, Carter. You’re mine.” A noise escaped him, so soft it was only the suggestion of a sound, and a single tear leaked down his cheek. The sight of him undone in front of me made a tightness grasp my balls. They ached as I resumed thrusting, so fast, so hard he couldn’t close his lips around me, and my cock scraped lightly against his teeth.

I spilled down his throat and my orgasm left my body like a tide that washed away all the uncertainty resting heavily on my shoulders.

I withdrew and Rook’s chest heaved as he found his breath again, but not quite the right tempo to keep it steady. He wiped away the saliva from his chin with the back of his hand and swiped at a few other stray tears that had spilled down his face.

“Tell me you understand,” I said, but all the power had drained from my voice. Didn’t he know that it was all his, anyway? That I was nothing if he didn’t love me back?

He rose to his knees shakily and nodded. His voice was hoarse when he said, “I understand.”

“I love you,” I told him.

He kissed me, still breathless and shaking, and kneaded my arse with his hands. The muscles there relaxed under the massage, and arousal tingled through the nerve endings around my arsehole. He scooped his arms around my backside and lifted me off the floor until my legs hooked over his elbows and our cocks pressed against each other’s stomachs in the shallow distance between us.

“Use that handy spell of yours,” he said, one hand dancing lower to circle the tight ring of muscles.

I shifted my hips so I could reach between us and braced myself for him to drop me, but neither my weight nor the difference in our heights tested his strength. I touched my first two fingers to my arse and lube, slick and cool, spread over them. I skimmed them over my arsehole, dipping them slightly to spread the lube into my channel.

Rook pulled my hand away and placed it on his shoulders as he took all of my weight on one arm and used the other to touch me. He circled a finger around the base of my cock, glided over my balls, and then pressed it slowly inside me. I breathed deeply,relaxing into the small intrusion, and reveled in the feeling of him working it in and out of me.

A second joined it and I moaned at the stretch. He wiggled the digits slightly, together, stretching the firm muscles in every direction and making my cock stand a second time.

“Fuck,” I rumbled against his jaw. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You have to wait.” He did not sound the least bit apologetic as he squeezed a third finger in with the rest, and the stretch stole my breath. He kissed my shoulders as he fucked me with his fingers, widening me so I could take him. I bounced my hips against him, forcing those fingers deeper and moaning as I took the pleasure I wanted.

“Fuck it.” He took his hand away and lined his dick up with my entrance. Rook did not fuck like he did everything else—hurried. Inch by inch, he pressed himself inside me, my arse opening to engulf him, and sensations like glowing fireflies lighting up all over my body.

“I am yours,” Rook said as he seated himself fully. “But you’re mine too. I will not leave you. I will not share you. And you sure as hell will never get away from me. If someone touches you, they die. If someone fucks with you, they die. If someone looks at what’s mine, I will send you their fucking eyeballs in a jar. I don’t need thirteen lives to keep you, but I will spill blood to make sure I do. You are mine.”

He thrust, lifting my weight and pulling me back down onto him in a steady, but brutal rhythm. “Tell…me…you understand,” he panted.

“I understand,” I gasped as my cock throbbed. Every glide of his rigid length over my sensitive prostate made stars flash at the edges of my vision. “Fuck, Carter, I’m going to come again. Faster.” My blood rushed, and the world narrowed to the feel of him ramming inside me in bursts that made it hard to breathe. “Please.”

He plunged deeply and my cock spurted all over him, spattering my cum across his broad chest and tight nipples. He tensed, lungs locked and cheeks red, as he found his own release deep inside me. His forehead was sweaty against mine as his breath ghosted across my face.

“You can’t leave me, Austin,” he whispered.

“I won’t,” I promised.

He carried me to the bathroom and we showered, washing each other slowly, watching the sweat and cum and overwhelming need swirl down the drain at our feet. When we lay together in the bed, he wrapped his body like a living shield around my back, and for a foolish moment, I believed he was enough to save me from what was to come.

Chapter Thirty-Five

The basement had been empty since Gray died. Owen had taken his place with only a fraction of the competence. I wasn’t sure he would keep the job long-term. He had Gray’s willingness to take orders without question, but none of his talent for gathering information or eliminating more challenging threats.

It meant the place was empty of screams and blood as I stood in the middle near the floor drain with the grimoire in one hand and my poor sentimental rabbit stuffy in the other.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rook asked, and I only glared at him because this was the fourth time he’d said it. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Fine. Have at it.”

I breathed in slowly and blew it back out, then lifted the book to eye level and read the words hand-scribed on the page. I noted Rook’s slight flinch as the circle erected around me in flames. I laid the book on the floor and struck a match, hovering it over Stewart’s time-worn ears before I grasped the match tighter and forced myself to set him aflame.

veilknight had sent one last message before she deleted her account on the Midnight Chat: