Villain, page 17
Casper listens without so much as blinking. The only way I know he’s breathing is because he hasn’t fallen to the floor yet.
“How old were you when she…? You know.”
When my mother ditched me.
“He was out, and his probation finished when I was five—almost six. They dropped me off at my aunt and uncle’s with a bag. I assumed it would be for the weekend or something, only they never came back.”
I take another sip of my gin and try to ignore the tugging in my chest.
“Today is the first time I’ve seen her since I was about fifteen. You can guess why. She popped up a few times over the years when my dad was getting out of prison.”
“Bastards,” he growls under his breath.
“She picked him every time,” I say, gently swirling my drink in the glass, watching bubbles drift to the surface. “I wasn’t enough.”
“No. Hey, fuck that. That’s not true. None of this is your fault. Children don’t drive anyone away. Some parents are just shitty.”
His words are filled with a nice sentiment, but the fact is clear: my mum didn’t want me. It wasn’t my fault, but it was still true. I look away from him as tears begin to sting behind my eyes. I can’t let him see me cry a second time.
“Are you okay now? I don’t want you to blame yourself. There is no way you could have known this would happen,” I say.
“I’m fine,” he replies, not even trying to be convincing.
“I should go,” I say, putting my drink on the table and standing up. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
“Ainsley, wait.”
I don’t wait because I can feel my sanity balancing on a knife’s edge. One little blow and I’ll fall apart. That’s not happened since I was sixteen and didn’t get a call from my mum on my birthday.
God, I wish I could hate her. Really, fully hate her so she could never hurt me again. And I hate how vulnerable she can make me feel after all this time.
Casper’s hand slams down on the door as I go to open it.
“What do you want?” I snap, turning around. “Why won’t you just let me go?”
“You’re not okay.”
“So? I don’t need to be okay every second of every day. I’ll live. Let me leave and deal with this in my own way.”
“Do you deal with it, though?”
“Piss off, Casper.” I shove his chest, but he doesn’t move far. “I don’t know why you’re even here. You couldn’t care less about me.” I shove him again, and he stands there and takes it. “You’re such an arsehole.” My head is about to explode. I push his chest harder. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
The next second my fists are curling around his T-shirt and I’m pulling him closer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I hold him close until his nose is pressed against mine and we’re breathing the same oxygen. Neither of us moves anymore. His eyes cut into mine with a thousand promises and a whole lot of unanswered questions.
The fire is back, blazing through my veins. The overwhelming and uncontrollable need to have him inside me takes over all rational thought. This might be wrong after everything he’s done, but I can’t seem to convince myself to walk away.
Tonight, I’ve dealt with my mum, and now I’m going to fix whatever is happening with Casper.
All this pent-up sexual tension needs to be extinguished.
Then we can move on. I can cut him out of my life properly.
My fist is still tangled in the black cotton covering his torso. I want it off.
My mouth covers his, and a traitorous little whimper in the back of my throat gives away how much I want him. My body is working against my mind now. I know what I should do, but there is nothing I can do to stop this.
One night.
Casper growls and steps out of my grasp.
Oh, shit.
He’s the one to stop this?
Fuck.
What the hell have I done?
I burn with humiliation, my eyes wide at what a fool I’ve made of myself. Why can’t I stop making stupid decisions?
I have to get out of here before he notices the blood rushing to my face, and I do something else ludicrous.
Who knows what that would be? Throw myself at him again? Throw a knife at him?
“Sorry,” I mumble, spinning around. I need to get out of this house and move to Alaska right now.
“No,” he says, wedging himself between me and the door so I can’t make my escape.
I don’t stop in time. I fall against his hard chest and feel the erection in his jeans against my stomach. My breath catches in my throat, and blood scorches through my veins.
“Move,” I order.
“Ainsley.” He tries to lift my chin, but I turn my head away. If I look at him, I know I’ll see smugness, and I can’t cope with that as well as my shitty mother today.
I need to go home and have the longest, hottest shower in history and wash today away. I can put it down to it being my turn for some crap again. I’ve not had to deal with emotions surrounding my mum since I was fifteen. I’m probably due another bout of anger and a mini meltdown.
“Look at me.” It’s a demand that I don’t meet… until he makes me.
He pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, raising my head.
“Please, just let me go home. My head is all over the place, and I still hate you.”
“Stop a second. Just… wait.”
“I made a mistake. Seeing my mum threw me off, okay. Can we please forget it? I will never ask anything else of you for the rest of my life, and I’ll always let you have the last word.”
“I have the last word, anyway.”
“I’m not in the mood for our bullshit.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “You kissed me the first time.”
The award for the most immature response ever goes to…
“You do know. You’re hurt and angry and you turned to me. When you were scared during the break-in, you turned to me. I don’t believe even you can convince yourself it means nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think or feel. Too much bad has happened for there to be anything between us.” I frown at my own rambling. “Whatever anything is, and I’m not even making sense.”
“Are you saying there is no way you would have initiated a kiss if it wasn’t for those circumstances?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m not giving you another reason to hate me.”
“Wait, that’s why you pushed me away. You think I want to sleep with you so I can be mad at you about it in the morning?”
His lips part, and although I’ve never seen this expression before, I can still read it crystal clearly.
“You want me to take you to bed,” he breathes.
Kissing him was my first mistake today. Admitting that is my second. I’m on a roll.
“No,” I say rather pathetically.
“Ainsley,” he snaps, all of his patience now gone. He looks like he’s hanging on by a thread.
“Today sucks already, but you were there, and when we’re together and you’re nice or protective, it makes me…”
“What does it make you?” He takes a step closer, and we’re toe-to-toe again.
I try to get some oxygen into my lungs, but they’re not working. It’s all him. He’s stolen every one of my senses, leaving me a lifeless ball of nerves yearning for his touch, and I couldn’t care less when he’s looking at me like I’m a meal and he’s starved.
“Tell me what you want and it’s yours,” he says roughly.
The house falls deathly silent besides our ragged, synchronised breathing. His chest caves as I step closer and raise my head. Every inch of him is pressed against every inch of me. The electricity between us makes it hard to form words.
I’m a little drunk on the woody scent of his aftershave. Maybe that’s why I’m behaving like this or about to say something I never imagined I would.
“Tell me,” he whispers, his lips a featherlight touch against mine.
“I want you to fuck me, Casper.”
His mouth parts as he sucks in a breath. Icy, lust-filled eyes burn so brightly, I’m blinded to everything that isn’t a six-foot man with black hair and a taste for destruction.
His control snaps, my words his undoing, and I’m slammed back against the wall. His mouth lands hard and heavy on mine.
I’m kissing him again, and this time it’s just so much more. The way his lips devour mine like he’s starved, and how moans his approval as our tongues slide together. God, we should always be doing this.
We’re a frantic tangle of mouths and hands. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, desperate and greedy for more. My fingers tangle in his hair, and that makes him kiss me harder, curling his fingers deeper into my skin.
He grinds his cock between my legs and moans against my mouth. We’re right where we left off a minute ago. I’m halfway between Heaven and Hell. He takes my body to the brink and pulls back, instinctively knowing when to stop until I’m built up into a frenzy.
I mumble my objection to this newest game—quite possibly the worst one we’ve ever played—and feel his smile as he shatters every last ounce of self-control I have.
He’s turning me into a junkie.
I’m vaguely aware that we’re moving, and Casper ascends the stairs, bumping into the wall and banister as we clumsily make our way to the bedroom, fuelled with the need to lose hours in each other.
He lowers me onto his bed, not once breaking our kiss, and slides his hand to the button on my jeans.
“Take my clothes off,” he says.
It’s the first order of his I’ve ever wanted to obey. He works on my jeans while I pull his T-shirt over his head. Our arms entwine as we strip each other in an uncoordinated mess of desire and the need to be skin-to-skin.
He yanks my jeans off my feet, and I get a second to take him in. I’ve seen his chest before, but this visual off him undressing me is something else. Hard muscle ripples as he turns to throw my jeans before he moves back over me.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, looking over my naked body. The expression, like he’s planning all the ways to make me come, has me squirming on the bed.
“I hate you, and I hate that I want you so bad.”
Pressing his face into my neck, he inhales and gently places a kiss over my thudding pulse. “I’m going to make you forget all the bad, sweetheart.”
Moaning, I tilt my head to give him better access as he drags his tongue down my neck and along my collarbone.
“I’ll never forget everything you’ve done,” I tell him, curling my hands around his shoulders and feeling his body shudder at my simple touch.
“Then, use it. I need your fire. God, this is going to be so good.”
“You’re very sure of yourself. I just told you that I hate you.”
His lips move down my body and then cover my nipple.
My eyes close, and I arch my hips, desperate for him.
“Are you ready? I’ve barely touched you.”
“Casper…”
“Tell me what you need.” His teeth graze my nipple before he sits up, a hand either side of my head, and his legs straddling mine so I can’t move. “I’ll give you anything.”
“I… You, I want you.” I slide my hands lower and try to pull his hips down to meet mine, but he doesn’t let me. “Casper, don’t make me hate you during sex, too.”
Chuckling, he presses his forehead against mine. “How do you want to come first, sweetheart?”
“Your mouth. Use it for something other than making my life hell.”
His eyes ignite. “Beg.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughs heartily and pushes himself up, trailing his fingers over my breasts and along my stomach. “I knew you were going to say that. You give as good as you get. I fucking love it. Tell me you’re not addicted to this. I thrive off you, Ainsley. Every argument is another hit, and I can’t get enough.”
“You’re sick. You should see someone for that,” I pant as his mouth replaces his hands at the top of my pubic bone. His hot breath blows against my centre, and I shudder into the bliss of having him between my thighs.
I’m quickly forgetting all the shit that’s gone down between us. Horrible, old memories fade away when his fingers brush my skin.
“This is all the therapy I need. I can’t wait to taste you.”
“Then, don’t wait,” I say, threading my fingers through his inky black hair.
“You’re so wet—so ready for me.”
“Casper, what are you waiting for?” I try to press my thighs together against the ache, but he stops me, his shoulders keeping my legs apart.
A featherlight tough of his lips to my clit makes me arch off the bed. He’s ready for that, holding me down with his forearm.
“You’re so responsive,” he says, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves.
Pleasure explodes along my spine, and I move against his mouth. This time, mercifully, he lets me.
“Fuck my mouth, sweetheart,” he rasps and plunges his tongue into my centre.
“Casper,” I call, gripping his hair and moving against him, meeting the fast and hard flicks of his tongue.
I’ve never been so turned on and so desperate to come before. He unlocks this side of me that doesn’t feel self-conscious and doesn’t worry what the guy I’m with might think of me. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t care what he thinks of me or because I’m too worked up. Whatever it is, I love it.
Casper’s fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs as he moans, flicking that tongue harder against my clit—long flicks, slow then fast, tasting and teasing, learning what I like best. He kisses and licks and bites at my skin, never letting up the pace.
I want to come so badly, and I’m so close, on the edge of ecstasy. My back curls off the bed and I pull his head into me, grinding against his mouth.
“Casper, I’m so close… More. I want more. Please…”
My heels dig into the bed as I try to get more of him inside me. I want it all, everything he has to give.
“I’ve got you,” he says against my sensitive flesh, pushing two fingers inside me. He strokes me at the same pace as his tongue.
“God. Oh, fuck!” I cry out, exploding into a million pieces. Wave after wave ricochets through my core and down to my toes. He doesn’t let up until I stop convulsing around his fingers.
“Jesus Christ, Ainsley,” he murmurs against my thigh, removing his hand. “You taste incredible, sweetheart. You’re stunning when you come.”
I’m boneless, laying heavy against his bedding with a sheen of sweat coating my skin.
“I’ve never come like that…” I say, trying to catch my breath as air rushes in and out of my lungs. Why did it have to be with him?
“I know,” he says, the cocky little prick that he is.
He makes his way back up to me slowly, kissing every inch of my skin on the way. He’s thorough as he tries to cover every part of my stomach and chest in soft kisses that make my fingers curl into the sheets.
“Casper.”
“Are you ready to come on my dick now?”
Fuck.
I whimper and reach for him. He can totally be in control of this, but he lets me pull him to my mouth and kiss him.
He lowers himself, giving me some of his weight. It’s not enough, so I wrap my legs around his back and bring him down on me harder. I feel his smile against my mouth as my need for him kicks up a few hundred notches.
“I’m clean,” he says. “Are you on contraception?”
I nod, kissing him again, feeling like I’m going to die if I don’t get more of him right the hell now. I have the injection every three months, but I’m glad he asked because I didn’t even think about contraception.
“I need you bare, sweetheart. I want to feel every inch of you. Can you feel that? You’re so wet,” he murmurs between kisses, arching his heavy erection against my centre.
“Yes. God, yes. How do you have so much patience?”
He laughs, trailing kisses down my neck before he murmurs against my skin, “I’ve gotten very good at it with you.”
“What does that…” I cry out the moment he plunges into me in one quick, hard movement.
His patience is gone.
“Fuuuuck,” he draws out before he bites down on my collarbone.
My eyes close at the sensation of his skin on mine, scorching hot and pressing against a part of me that I want to chain him to forever.
“Casper…” I claw at his back, my nails cutting into the skin. I don’t know if it’s me calling his name or the pain from my scrapes that makes him move, but he draws back and fucks me.
“Ainsley, you feel… so good. This… is… too good,” he pants between hot kisses. Our lips are glued together, tongues locked in a duel that I don’t care if I win or lose.
My body ramps up, electricity zapping at every nerve ending beneath my skin.
We stretch against each other, and I meet the frenzied pace he’s set, just as desperate as he is to come. I want to feel him come inside me. I’ve never allowed that with anyone before, and I want it all—every part of him.
“Casper, I’m close.”
“I know, I can feel you. God, you’re squeezing the life out of me.” His arm slides under my lower back, and his fingers cut into my flesh the same way I’m clawing at his back.
The feel of him—his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, hands palming my skin, and his cock nudging the most sensitive part of me—is overwhelming. It’s too much. I writhe beneath him, crying out, panting his name.
“Casper.”
He moans and pulls away from my mouth. The sudden gasp of air and change in position when he sits up makes me scream. He holds my hips, and I run my hands along his damp chest, feeling his muscles bunch.
Every powerful thrust of his hips sends me closer to the oblivion I crave so badly.
“Casper… Casper.”
His mouth parts and his head tilts back. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
