MY SWEET VILLAINTINE Page 7
Tell her to open her mouth, the voice says. Fuck her throat until she can’t breathe. Show her she is nothing. The doe-eyed girl can’t hear the voice. Only I can hear the voice.
I fuck her mouth as gently as I can.
The voice is a cruel motherfucker. If I shock her while you’re doing this, she will bite down.
I fuck her mouth harder. Good boy.
I’m close. Take the blindfold off and come in her eyes.
“No!” I growl. I pull out of her mouth quickly; my cock bounces out from between her lips a fraction of a second before the electric crack at her neck comes alive. She screams, falling backward. The back of her head hits the concrete floor with a sickening thwack, and for a moment I think she might actually be dead. I stand over her still form and watch her chest, making sure it still rises and falls. Her nipples are pink and raised, and my dick still thinks it’s getting a release after being in her mouth. No. I’m not even remotely turned on by what I’ve been forced to do to this poor girl.
Boldly, slowly, she reaches up and lowers her blindfold. It’s a risk. That could get another shock for her disobedience.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks me.
“If I don’t do it, he’ll kill you,” I say. “Don’t make him angry.”
“Make who angry?” she asks, her voice trembling, her entire being trembling with fear. She thinks I am a monster. And I am, in some ways, a monster, but I wish she could know that I have no control over what’s happening right now.
Last chance, the voice says. You don’t want to ignore me. Take her ass as punishment to you both.
I crouch at her feet and gather her ankles in my hands, intending to turn her over on to her stomach. Don’t, the voice says. You should look into her eyes while you’re tearing her apart.
Terror rises in my throat. I don’t want to hurt her – but I don’t have a choice. I push her legs wide and she barely resists, staring up at the ceiling; I think, compared to making her choke on me or the electric shocks, sex isn’t so brutal. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I put my fingers to the tight bud of her asshole.
She jerks away from my touch as apologies fall from my lips. “I’m sorry,” I say. She’s crying. “Please,” she says, trying desperately to wriggle her hips away. “Not there. Anywhere but there.”
Her ass is so tight I can barely push my finger past the tight ring of muscle at her entrance. I’m quite sure she’s never been fucked here before, and that makes it all the worse. Yet another thing I will take from her as she begs me not to.
I reach up to her mouth on impulse and stick two fingers in, making a scooping motion. I cut her tongue deeply with the rose thorn; the blood is still flowing freely. I take as much blood and saliva from her mouth as I can and spread it around her asshole. Then I press my dick against her tight opening and spear into her in one swift movement that drags a scream from her so horrific, it brings a lump to my throat. I look down to where our bodies are joined – where mine has violated hers – and through the painful squeeze of her tight ass around my cock, I see fresh blood. I have torn into her, ripped her flesh, and I wish so badly that it didn’t have to be this way.
Now cut her. With what? I don’t have a knife. A weapon of any kind.
With the thorns. Of course.
Listlessly, I reach for the long-stemmed rose and press it down against her forearm. She’s already in so much pain, she barely notices when it breaks skin.
More.
Goddamn it. I find another piece of flesh and press, waiting for fresh blood to well up.
More!
I mark her arms and her breasts with the rose thorns before he makes me start on her face. This is our punishment because I refused to ejaculate into her eyes. I should have just done what he said, because now she will be scarred forever. Blood springs up on her cheeks, among the delicate skin around her eyes, across her lips, and I just want this to be over.
Good, the voice says. This is very good.
She’s crying, her head to the side and her eyes blank and unseeing as she makes little gasping sounds. I want her to feel better. I want to take her pain away. With one hand on the floor to support myself as I push in and out of her, I use my other hand to stroke the tiny bud of nerve endings beneath her barely-there pubic hair. I press my thumb against her clit and rub shallow circles, noticing the way she first constricts around me, and then relaxes fractionally.
“You should come,” I say to her. “It will hurt less.”
She doesn’t answer me or even acknowledge what I’ve said, but after a few minutes of fucking her ass and stimulating her clitoris, she tightens up around me, her eyes flutter, and I hope she gets at least one small moment of peace among this hell we’re in together.
“Have you always heard voices?” she asks me later. After I was done and she’d passed out, I took the new blindfold and a little of the water from the bottle and cleaned her face up as best as I could. I hope I didn’t leave lasting scars on her flesh. She’s beautiful, and she should stay beautiful, not be marked and disfigured by a psychopath with a fucking rose thorn and time to kill.
“No,” I say sharply. Defensively. “Of course not. I’m not crazy. It’s—”
A high-pitched sound screams in my head. I hold both of my hands over my ears as a growl wells up from my throat unbidden; at the same time, the girl screams in pain as crack-crack-crack the electric collar around her neck springs to life. She’s still sitting; her eyes wide, her fingertips up at her collar. This shock was just a warning. A warning to not talk about the voice.
“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I wish I could tell you everything.”
She just watches me from her corner; her knees huddled to her chest.
I want to rip this collar from her throat and rub my fingertips across the raw skin where the two metal prongs rest; they have to hurt her.
“When are you going to kill me?” she asks.
Don’t answer that, the voice instructs me.
So I don’t. I just stare at her, wishing things were different, knowing that they’ll only get worse before the end.
* * *
There is a girl sitting in front of me. A beautiful girl. I don’t know her name, or her age, or what she loves or who she aches for; but I know her better than anyone has ever known her. I don’t want to kill her. But after I’m through with her, after the voice is finally sated and lets me rest, I’ll definitely kill myself.
Lili St. Germain is the USA Today bestselling author of the Gypsy Brothers series and the Cartel trilogy.
The excerpt above, featuring Rome and Avery, is taken from a brand new dark romantic thriller series that will be releasing in 2017. The CALIFORNIA BLOOD series, set in the criminal underbelly of San Francisco, follows two warring families who are ruled by blood, power and twisted desire.
* * *
Verona Blood is the first book in the series.
VERONA BLOOD
* * *
Avery Capulet is missing.
Taken by a madman. Kept in the dark.
She might not survive.
He’ll use her body. Destroy her mind.
All before he even lays a hand on her.
* * *
Rome Montague is a drug dealer. A criminal. A thief.
Rome Montague is missing – but nobody will miss him.
Not that it matters; after the things he’s done to this girl, he doesn’t deserve to be found.
* * *
For CALIFORNIA BLOOD pre-order links and more, visit
www.lilisaintgermain.com/CaliforniaBlood
If you can’t wait that long for Lili’s new book to release, check out her GYPSY BROTHERS series for the villain readers LOVE to hate! The Gypsy Brothers series centres on a young woman and her quest for revenge, as she infiltrates the biker club who murdered her father and left her for dead. Love, lust and vengeance all collide when Juliette Portland sets out to destroy those who wronged her.
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THANK YOU
Shari, Lili, T.M., Callie and Skye thank you for downloading and reading this exclusive collection. We hope you’re not too shattered after finishing - just shattered enough :)
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Now that you’ve seen in to the darkest recesses of our writer minds, you might also like to find out more about us. You can read up on each author by visiting the My Sweet Villain website and scrolling to the author section.
Until we meet again (in the dark, of course!),
Your Villainesses
Shari Slade
T.M. Frazier
Skye Warren
Callie Hart
Lili St. Germain