A Villainous Hero
I knew I shouldn't have walked home so late. But I was trying to save every single dollar for my mom’s surgery, so I couldn't bring myself to pay for a cab. That was my first mistake.
The street was dark and empty. Then, I heard footsteps behind me.
I started walking faster, but the person behind me sped up too. My stomach completely dropped. Before I could even start running, a hand grabbed my arm and slammed me hard against a brick wall.
I winced from the pain in my shoulder. It was a guy in a dark hoodie, and he was holding a knife right at my throat.
"Give me the bag and your phone," he growled.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely move. "Take it, please just don't hurt me."
I handed him my things, but he didn't leave. He looked me up and down with this disgusting smirk. "You know, maybe the bag isn't enough."
My whole body went weak with pain. I couldn't even scream.
"Let her go."
The voice came from the end of the alley. It was deep, calm, and honestly terrifying.
We both looked over. A tall guy was standing there. He looked incredibly rich, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and silver glasses. He looked like a CEO who belonged in a penthouse, not a dirty alley.
"Get lost, rich boy, before I cut you," the robber threatened, waving the knife.
The rich guy didn't even blink. He slowly took off his glasses, put them in his suit pocket, and walked toward us.
The robber lunged at him with the knife, but the hot, rich guy moved way too fast. He grabbed the robber's wrist and twisted it until I heard a loud crack.
The robber screamed. Before he could fall, the rich guy kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him crashing to the ground.
The robber stayed down, groaning in pain.
I just slid down the wall, my legs completely turning to jelly.
The rich guy didn't even look at the robber on the floor. He picked up my phone and purse, wiped off the dirt, and walked over to me.
Up close, he was insanely handsome. He had dark hair slicked back and a really sharp jawline, but his eyes were totally cold.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"No," I whispered, my voice shaking.
He handed me my bag. When our fingers brushed, this intense jolt of electricity shot up my arm. I gasped, and his eyes locked onto mine. For a second, his cold face changed, and he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. It actually scared me more than the guy with the knife, but it also excited me.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, touching my chin gently.
He grabbed my wrist—not violently, but firmly—and led me toward a sleek black sports car parked at the curb.
I knew I shouldn't get into a stranger's car. Every logical part of my brain told me to run. But I was so shaken up and his expensive cologne smelled so good that I just stepped inside.
The inside of his car smelled amazing, like expensive leather and wood. It was quiet too, completely blocking out the noise from the street.
The guy didn't say a single word the entire drive. He just focused on the road, driving fast through the city.
I was super nervous, but at the same time, I couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of my eye.
Why am I in this strange man's car? Why is he taking me to God knows where? Why didn't I say thank you after he saved me and go home?
We eventually pulled up to this massive house behind a huge iron gate. It looked like a castle. He parked the car, got out, and opened my door for me.
"Come inside," he said. His voice was still really deep and calm.
I followed him into the house. The hallway was huge with marble floors and a giant staircase. He told me his name was Dante.
He gave me a glass of water and asked if I was okay. I told him I was just a little shaken up but fine.
We ended up sitting on the couch in his living room.
The tension between us was crazy. Every time he looked at me, I felt these weird butterflies in my stomach. He took off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and the way he looked at me made it clear he wasn't just being a nice guy.
"Come closer," he said in that deep voice.
"Okay." I moved closer to him. He put his arm around me and put my head on his chest.
I could feel his heartbeat. Steady, almost nonexistent.
"Are you a good girl?"
"What?" I lifted my head to look at him.
"Are you a good girl?" His breath hit me like a wave. It smelled like mint and cigars.
"Depends on what you mean. I haven't always been the best daughter. I started having s*x at fifteen," I smiled. "I remember when I would sneak my boyfriend upstairs when my mum was downstairs, and we'd f**k like rabbits. So if that's what you are asking, then no. I am not a good girl. Also, I was a stripper briefly at eighteen."
He looked at me, his eyes wide with amazement.
"I don't think you are a bad girl because you had s*x at fifteen, or because you like s*x, or even the stripper thing." He smiled with the left side of his lips. It was so sexy. "I mean, do you do as you are told?"
"Oh!" I realized what he was talking about. "Sometimes." I ran a finger down his chest. "Is there anything you want me to do for you tonight, Mr. Dante?" I am not sure why I was so free with him. Maybe I felt indebted to him, but this felt more than gratitude. There was so much heat between us, and my whole body wanted him.
"Yes."
"Yeah?" I brought my lips to his ear. "What's that?"
He looked at me for a moment, then said, "I need you to make me c*m without touching me."
