Villain Read Online Free PDF

didn’t blame him as the others did; she wasn’t poisoned by hate for him, nor cared to blame anyone for what may just be nature’s doing. The only thing she could blame on him was the pains in her body, the lava rushing down her bloodstream, the burning in her womb. For two weeks, she found herself wandering near the cave on evenings. Be it rain or shine, she would go there. She would stare longingly at the cave, and sometimes on her way back visit the grave for a glimpse of that fresh white lily, and to beseech the same of Faith Harrison over and over again. “Whatever you’re doing, please stop now, or tell me what you want from me.” Now. Before I go crazy, before I die from pain of wanting what can’t be mine .
    Her pleas went unanswered. The images, dreams, or memories—whatever they were—continued with intensity. Sometimes, as she strode down the streets, or stared out of her window, Stella would sense his presence. She would feel him watching her, his ruthless gaze like stabs in the heart. But his gaze didn’t frighten her. It primed her, so she felt needy for it, missed it whenever it was not there, and wanted the owner of it as much as her next breath.
    His crows had been following her, too. Unnerved by their presence, her mother had been flinging rocks and curses at them all week. The crows would fly away, only to return to Stella’s windowsill, or perch atop the twisted arms of the tree outside her room and caw to announce their arrival.
    Every night came a memory, and there were a few days she couldn’t even get out of bed, and instead remained there shivering with fever. Doctors came and went, merely checking her blood pressure, handing out aspirins. They were used to her fevers by now, and could never pinpoint the source of them.
    Stella knew it was him. This want of him…oh, how deeply it burned.
    * * *
    One rainy afternoon, she locked the door to her room and stripped off her clothes, feeling so sensitive even the fabric on her body seemed to have scraped her flesh raw. Even naked, her nipples felt over-sensitized and tingly. She waited for the vision, willing it to take her, willing it to remind her what he felt like so close to her. Stella gasped when it did.
    He was pressing her back against a wall, his hands pinioning hers to her sides. He looked angry, his face harsh, the gleam in his eyes vicious. She could feel the desperation inside her, the need clogging her throat.
    “Please, Gabriel,” she pleaded, shuddering with arousal.
    Stella had never seen Faith Harrison in the visions. Instead she lived the memory from the woman’s perspective, seeing Gabriel Hunter as Faith had seen him, grand and virile and wonderful. Stella felt what Faith felt, said what she said, and lately ached to be her only to have him as her own.
    “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” he told her, leaning into her so she could barely breathe from the weight of him, his warm, dirty, mine-worker’s hands splaying over hers against the wall.
    “Please, don’t,” she whispered. “Stay out of this, Gabriel, please.” Stella as Faith laced her fingers through his and gripped them tightly.
    He rolled his hips against hers. “He’s not touching you,” he bit out, the famished look in his eyes intensifying as he gazed down at her lips. “Nobody is touching you but me.”
    “He won’t; I won’t let him,” she assured, her pussy heating with juices that spread down to her limbs until she could barely stay on her own two feet. “It’s only you I want, only you I love, haven’t we promised?” She shoved her pelvis to his, encouraging him with her body. “Please fuck me. I can’t stand being near you without having you inside me.”
    He made a coarse sound, bent his dark head, and pressed his hungry lips to her neck, slipping his tongue out for a taste of her. “Let’s go away now, Faith. Right now.”
    She smoothed her hands along his arms and back, then raked her nails on his skin as she tried to