“God, Roman,” I moan, arching into his mouth even more.
“I’m going to spread you on my Mustang, Fae,” he whispers over my breasts. “And then I’m going to fuck you in your ass, but first, I’ll fuck you in your pussy. I’m a bad guy but I’m not a savage. I took your virginity without a care but I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I’ll make you all loose and horny first. I’ll make your pregnant snatch gush cum over my dick. So it’s all lubed up, Fae, before I put it in your tightest hole. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? I’ll grease it up real good before I put my big cock in your ass so it’s easier for you to take. So it doesn’t hurt you as much, because I’ll lose my mind if it hurts you.”
“It won’t,” I say even though I know it will.
His big cock in my ass will hurt but I don’t care about that.
I want him in there. I need him.
“And then I’ll fuck you real nice and slow. Real careful. As I rub your swollen belly. You know how much I love it, don’t you? Your pregnant belly, your pregnant tits. I love it all, Fae. I love that I gave it to you. Me. Even though I had no right to. Even though I never had the privilege.”
“You did. You —”
“And I’ll do all that until you come again and I come in your last hole because your ass won’t quit squeezing me. The only hole I haven’t had yet. In this place where you danced for me and where you called me a villain. That’s why I brought you here, Fae. Because that’s what I am, a villain. And this is what a villain does, doesn’t he? He spreads his girl on the hood of his car and goes to town on her ass. Out in the open with her pregnant belly sticking out and her tits jiggling. This is what a villain does to the girl he wants.”
He is right.
This is what a villain does.
He fucks the girl he wants out in the open for the whole world to see. He not only fucks her, he takes her virginity that way.
On his Mustang, in the woods where he first captured her.
And the girl he’s captured, she has no qualms about it.
She doesn’t care if the world sees her. They can see if they want to.
That she’s got his baby in her belly and his cock in her ass.
But I have to tell him something. Something very important. Something that I want him to know and to understand. That this is not why he brought me here.
He didn’t bring me here because he’s a villain.
He might be that, yes. But his reasons were different.
And when he spreads me over the hood of his Mustang — on his cozy hoodie though; he’s not a savage as he told me — and parts my legs, his cock all lined up with my leaking pussy, I put a hand on his bare stomach where he’s inched up his t-shirt to have a clear view of what he’s doing to me.
I stop him and whisper, “This isn’t why you brought me here.”
He frowns. “What?”
“You didn’t bring me here because you’re a villain.” I dig my nails in his abs. “You brought me here because this place is special. This place is ours. You brought me here, Roman, because in this place, there’s no heartbreak. In these woods, I’m still sixteen and you’re the guy who watches me dance. I’m your Fae and you’re my Roman. That’s why. Because this place is us.”
Isn’t it?
This place, these woods are before.
Before the tragedy struck and he broke my heart. Before he became haunted and I became broken. Before I found out that he’s just a lonely boy and I’m just a girl in love.
In this place, we’re magical, him and I.
We’re timeless. We’re frozen.
In this place, I’m still his dancing fairy and he’s my wild mustang.
That’s why my gorgeous villain brought me here.
And when I tell him that, his eyes flare for a second like this is only occurring to him right now. Just like when he realized that he loves our baby, our Halo.
God, he’s so clueless. So lost.
My sweet, sweet villain.
But then his eyes turn predatory and full of desire.
Full of something that looks a lot like love.
But I know better.
I know better than to read into things. He’s taught me well.
So when he enters my body, I don’t think it’s love. Even though it feels like it.
It feels like this might be how my Roman shows his love, by driving me back to our special place and taking the last thing on my body that he hasn’t taken. By leaving his mark everywhere.
By building a shrine on my body, turning it into his love letter.
I would think about this more, but he chooses that moment to rub my clit and make me come.
And then he does everything as he told me he would.
He greases up his cock with my juices so he can put it in my ass. So he can dip his slippery head inside my tightest hole and make me arch and moan. And when it still doesn’t go in smoothly, he spits on it.
He spits on his cock like a beautiful, vulgar beast and rubs it all over his length, mixing his spit with my juices before trying again.
Before gaining an inch or two with his short thrusts.
I help him further by inching up my bare thighs on the hood of his Mustang and grabbing the cheeks of my ass to widen my hole. To present it to him like a gift, that prize he’s always wanted to trash and fuck.
And then there’s no turning back.
Yes, it’s painful and yes, I’ve never felt this kind of a stretch before.
But then I’ve never felt this kind of love either.
A love that makes me fly and makes me hurt. A love that feels like life one second and death the next.
A love that only grows and expands as I look into the wolf eyes of the guy who’s fucking my ass, who’s bent over me, his gaze tender and carnal and piercing, his big hand on my stomach, protecting our baby.
And the other hand in my mouth so I can suck on his fingers and not feel even a lick of pain.
Who’s grunting with every thrust and every time I squeeze my ass over his length.
And who tells me, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Fae. So fucking gorgeous. You’re a wonder.”
Popping his thumb out, I cradle his face, his tight jaw. “You are too.”
Before his mouth descends on me and I inch up slightly to help him put his lips on mine.
And as soon as he does, I crash and burn and come.
My pussy contracts and my ass flutters, forcing him to come as well, to come together. As one.
Making him fill my ass with his cream and conquer that last hole of mine.
Making him even more entrenched in my heart. A heart that says, I love you, Roman.
And somehow a heart that hears, I love you, Fae.
“Gregory Jackson.”
The name echoes in the house, clashes with the soft blue walls.
But I know that I’m only imagining it because his voice is in my ears, coming through the phone.
Him being Reed’s dad.
I got his number from Tempest, who also warned me against calling their dad. She told me that Reed would flip the fuck out, her exact words.
But I told her what I told my girls at St. Mary’s.
That I’m not going to stand by any longer and let him suffer.
So yeah, after getting back from the woods and having dinner, I decided to send Reed on a grocery store run for that ice cream I like so I could call his dad.
I’m sitting down for this.
And good thing because I’m quaking, quaking, on the inside.
But I grab the edge of the cozy couch and say in a calm and determined voice, “Mr. Jackson, hi. You probably don’t remember me but I’m a friend of your daughter.” I cringe; great introduction. “And also Reed. My name is Callie Thorne and I was hoping that I could talk —”
“Calliope.”
I cringe again. Because no one has called me that in like forever.
> But it’s not exactly the fact that he’s called me by my full name. It’s how he’s done it.
With so much interest. And I’m not going to lie, that creeps me out a little bit.
That intense interest.
Even so, I’m glad he knows who I am. It might save me from telling him the whole sordid tale from two years ago.
“Yes, I —”
He speaks over me. “How nice of you to call. I’ve been meaning to have a conversation with you.”
Mr. Jackson’s voice is smooth and deep, like his son’s, but there’s a quality in it that I find… slimy. Halo finds it slimy too I think because she kicks in my belly angrily and I have to rub the spot to make her go back to sleep.
Not now, honey.
Before I can respond to that, he continues, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“You know?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
I didn’t think he knew.
Reed has been so adamant about not letting me go anywhere near his dad or getting him involved in my pregnancy in any way that it comes as a surprise.
As a shock actually.
Unpleasant and vexing.
Something that gets my heart rate up.
“Of course,” he says in that slimy, deep voice of his. “Of course I know. I’ve only recently found out, actually. My son did the best he could to hide it from me. I wonder why, however. I wonder why he wouldn’t share such happy news with his own father. It hurt me, to be honest with you. But anyway, I’m glad I found out. Please accept my greatest congratulations.”
There’s nothing wrong with what he’s saying.
In fact, it’s all polite and polished and pleasant.
But something is off.
Something is very much off and it’s not just the fact that he told me that he’s only recently found out despite Reed’s efforts not to tell him.
Again, it’s okay.
It doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m calling anyway.
I rub my belly again to calm Halo down so I can focus. “Uh, thank you.”
“So,” he asks magnanimously. “What can I do for you?”
Okay, this is it.
I sit up straighter on the couch and say, “I actually wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize. For what?”
“For what I did two years ago. I never got a chance to apologize to you before and I want you to know that I regret it. I’m not…” I pause to gather myself. “I wasn’t myself that night and if I were, I never would’ve done it. But that’s not an excuse and I know that. I’m not exactly hoping that you forgive me but I’d like to say that I’m sorry.”
“Forgive you?” He laughs, and this time I’m definitely, definitely creeped out.
His laugh is somehow both booming and screeching, like nails dragging across a chalkboard and you get the feeling that whatever is making him happy is coming at the expense of someone else.
Someone innocent.
God, and Reed has had to endure this all his life.
Reed has to endure this every day when he goes to work for his dad.
My heart is both racing and clenching in my chest. I need to make this happen. I need to get Reed’s freedom.
His laughter trails off on a chuckle and he says, “I can see now what my son sees in you. Sweet and innocent. Begging for my forgiveness so sweetly. I regret that we haven’t met yet. I’d very much like to meet you, Calliope. One day. If my son stops being stubborn. In fact, I’m going to insist to him that we meet. I can be very persuasive when I want to be. I’m sure my son must have told you all about that. But anyway, it would be a pleasure to meet the girl who sounds so sweet over the phone.”
My skin is crawling right now.
Crawling.
At his slimy tone, his creepy laugh.
It makes me feel unsafe and disgusted.
It makes me want Reed. I want him to come back and chase away this chill in my bones.
And I know he will do it too.
He will do anything to make me feel safe and so I have to do this for him.
I have to be strong.
“Listen, Mr. Jackson, thanks for congratulating me and for all the compliments that I wasn’t expecting. At all. But that’s not why I’m calling,” I say sternly. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the years and I have to admit that very little of that has been flattering. So maybe I’m making a mistake in calling you but I had to. I had to because I want to ask you something. I want to ask you to let Reed go.”
“Let him go,” he repeats. “Interesting choice of words. You don’t think I’m holding him prisoner, do you?”
I swallow. “I’m not sure what you’re doing but he’s your son. I’m a lot younger than you and I don’t know everything you know, but I’m going to have a child soon. And I know that I’ll love her. In fact, I already do. I already want to hold her in my arms and protect her from everything.” I cradle my belly where she’s sleeping. “I already know that I want to give her her every wish, every dream, every little hope. I want to know every beat of her heart. I want to ease every little breath she takes. I want to do that for her. Every parent wants to do that for their child, Mr. Jackson. And yes, we’re not perfect and we make mistakes and there are times when our children hate us but that doesn’t mean that we ever stop loving them or wanting what’s best for them. So that’s what I’m asking you, Mr. Jackson. I’m asking you to give your son what he wants. I know that you know that working at your company is not what Reed wants, and I know that you forced him into it. Because of me. Because of what I did. But it’s been two years now and I want you to find it in your heart to let him out. You can punish me if you want. But please let him go.”
“Okay.”
He doesn’t even think about it. He says it as soon as I finish what I wanted to say. And somehow I know that he’s bluffing. He’s completely bluffing.
He thinks I’m sweet and naïve, and I might be but I’m not that naïve.
So I insert steel in my voice when I say, “You will let him go.”
It’s not a question at all.
But he answers me anyway. “Yes. I will. You’ve made an excellent point here. So I’ll let my son go and do what he wants to do, whatever that might be. Dreams are important to me. That’s how I built this company. You have a dream too, don’t you?”
"Yeah,” I tell him hesitantly.
“Juilliard. Very ambitious,” he murmurs. “I told this to my son too. But if you need any help, I’d be happy to be of assistance. I know quite many people there. And you’re family, aren’t you?”
I don’t care about Juilliard right now. I don’t.
Even though his words are filling me with dread.
“So you’re going to let him go?”
“Yes. In fact, this will be his last job. The job I gave him today.”
“Job.”
“Yes, to sieze this lovely garage for me.”
My heart thunders in my chest at his words.
Halo moves in my belly again. Just like she was doing this morning, restless and angry and agitated.
Through all the chaos happening inside my body, I ask him, “What garage?”
And when he answers me, I know.
I know he’s the real villain.
He’s the real evil, the real threat, the real danger.
Reed’s father.
I sit there on the couch long after the call is done, my bones shaking. My breaths scattered.
It feels like an age.
Exactly like the night we had that fight and he made me promise that I’d never fall for him because he’d only break my heart.
The night I realized that I’d already fallen.
And exactly like that night, I hear the tires screeching in the driveway when he comes back. The sound of his Mustang door banging shut, his footsteps bounding up the porch stairs.
Tonight though, I haven’t locked th
e door.
I haven’t barricaded myself or erected barriers. Or walls.
I’m cut open and vulnerable as he enters through the door, carrying my favorite ice cream in a brown bag in his arms and I rise from the couch.
My phone slipping through my fingers and falling on the floor with a loud clatter that echoes around the house.
The glass house.
That belongs to his friend, Pete.
Reed glances down at the phone before looking up, “Fae, what —”
“I talked to your dad.”
I hit him with these words. Punch him.
Because he draws back.
For a second, that’s his only response, being pushed back slightly.
Before things happen.
Things like a flash of panic in his wolf eyes. The same one that I saw this morning, which confirms what I already knew after talking to his dad.
That is why Reed was so paranoid, panicked.
Because his father found out about me and Halo.
But the panic is only momentary. It’s replaced by anger.
Great, mighty anger that makes his arms loosen for a second so that paper bag slips out, before tightening up every inch of his body. Every single inch of his muscle, every bone and tendon and vein that I can see tightens up, stands out.
“What?” he spits out, his wolf eyes deadly.
“I… After we came back from Pete’s, I realized what your dream was. I realized that even you didn’t know. Or even if you did, you didn’t think you could have it. What you wanted. So I wanted to give it to you. I wanted you to have it, Roman, your dream. And so I got your dad’s number from Tempest and… and I called him.”
His vampire skin is stark white, leached of all color like his blood has frozen over.
Like there’s a chill inside of him.
That perpetual winter that makes him wear hoodies all the time.
White and pure and pristine hoodies that he loves so much.
“You called my dad,” he repeats in a low voice.
“Yes.”
He takes a step toward me. “After I told you not to.”
I clutch my dress, white, his favorite. “Yes.”
“After I made it clear that I didn’t want you anywhere near him,” he pushes out through clenched teeth, taking another step toward me. “After I made it crystal fucking clear that you’re not supposed to even think about it. You’re not supposed to interfere.”
A Gorgeous Villain Page 50