Villain Ch 1915. Out of Love
He was close.
And they knew it.
"Ohhh, you're there," Vivian whispered, licking a stripe up his throat. "You feel full, don't you?"
"Shut up," Allen managed, voice cracking.
"No," she said, and the others echoed it in breathless agreement.
They wanted to break him.
But not out of cruelty.
Out of love.
Out of obsession, out of longing, out of wild, dangerous loyalty that didn't ask for crowns or thrones—but for sweat and gasps and scars only they could leave.
And Allen—tied by their warmth, blindfolded by trust, dripping with affection he could no longer outwit—let them.
Because kings don't kneel easily.
But when they do—
It's holy.
Someone curled around him from behind, legs locking around his waist, arms around his chest. She bit his shoulder—not hard, just enough to make him jerk—and pressed her cheek to his.
"You're going to come, aren't you?" Larissa's voice was velvet-soaked sin. "Do it. Right now."
"I swear—" he groaned.
"Do it."
