No Love For The Villain - Chapter 19
<‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods… nor his wife…’>
But she did not know how one commits adultery, or how one covets. She only understood it must be a desperate impulse, much like her own craving for death. Forbidden things were always like that.
“I know that much.”
“Know what, exactly.”
The tip of a leather-gloved hand slid smoothly into the gaps between Sierra’s fingers. The unfamiliar sensation of his fingers pushing deep between hers made her shudder. Even when she tried to pull her hand away, the back of her hand only rubbed against his palm.
The black-gloved hand was slowly swallowing her own. As if swallowing its prey and closing its mouth, like upper and lower fangs interlocking with no escape.
The sleek texture, like a snake’s scales, made her pulse beat perilously. The pressure of his grip squeezing her hand tightly constricted her chest.
It’s obscene.
His hand, stimulating her sense of touch, felt obscene. Thus, the affectionate act of holding hands transformed into an act of coveting.
“I know that holding hands doesn’t make a baby.”
Sierra tried to answer flatly. She believed nothing would happen from merely holding hands.
But the moment her eyes met Eli’s, a wave of anxious tension washed over her. The man staring back without an answer seemed capable of shattering any belief with ease.
His gaze, which had been locked with hers, slowly drifted downward.
“What about kissing?” Eli was looking at Sierra’s lips.
“…you asked me to kill you…” A faint, derisive smile touched the corner of his lips as he recalled her plea. “What a dilemma. I’d much prefer if Miss Knightley begged me to let her live, crying as she did it.”
The words, laced with a perverse desire, were delivered with detachment.
Eli’s head tilted toward Sierra. Helplessly, she felt herself being drawn into the depths of his approaching black eyes. A dark sea surged forward.
Their lips met. It was like being submerged. It pushed in like a current, made her wet, and ultimately blocked her airways.
She couldn’t draw a breath. The only thing Sierra could inhale was what Eli gave her. She couldn’t distinguish if what pooled in her mouth was from him or from herself. Her lips were just becoming soaked.
“Hh… nnngh…”
The jazz he had played earlier wove together notes to create an elegant melody, but their entangled kiss produced only a sticky, wet noise. As that raw sound grated in her ears, Sierra felt a shudder run through her.
It was a lewd and wicked kiss.
He acted even more vulgar, as if mocking those who set and punished taboos.
He deliberately used his thumb to press down her lower lip, forcing her mouth open, made her moan precariously through lips she couldn’t close, and incited her as if telling her to let anyone hear.
The obscenity he was subjecting her to felt like it was setting her entire body on fire. The nape of her neck he held, her cheeks, her tongue, and not just those—every inch of skin hidden beneath her clothes burned hotly.
Her mouth was a mess, and her mind was in disarray. She trembled and resonated as sensitively as an instrument string stretched too taut. With every touch of his, notes scattered, seeming ready to snap at any moment.
The moment she felt the dizzying sensation of being driven to the edge of a cliff, fear tightened around her throat.
I’m scared.
That single thought spread darkly through her mind. Sierra bit down hard on the thing that was frightening her. Like prey making a final, desperate struggle as it dies in a trap, she clamped her teeth hard on the tongue inside her mouth.
A metallic, bloody taste burst in her mouth. Tears streamed from her heated eyes.
Their lips parted.
Finally, Sierra gasped for air frantically. Her chest heaved greatly as she breathed to survive.
“Hic…!”
Shedding the sobs she had been suppressing, she looked at the lips that had pulled away from her.
Eli’s lips, slick with moisture, gleamed with an unhealthy hue. Between his slightly parted lips, the torn tip of his tongue was visible. He slowly licked his bloodied lips with his wounded tongue.
His face revealed every sin. His black eyes held the coldness of murder, his wet lips the vulgarity of adultery, and his blood-red tongue the ferocity of coveting what belongs to another.
Sierra wept, her mind growing so distant she even forgot she was crying.
Lips touched her wet eyes. Eli kissed the corner of her eye and then used his tongue to slowly lick away the flowing tears.
His action was akin to an animal licking its offspring’s wound. At the same time, it was chilling, like savoring the taste of a prey he himself had bitten.
Eli’s gaze drifted from her tear-filled eyes to the blood-stained skin around them, to her wet lips, to her rising and falling chest. He looked, slowly savoring the traces he had left behind.
Click. The sound of the seatbelt unlocking echoed. He had unfastened it for her. The pressure constricting her chest vanished in an instant.
Sierra, frozen for a moment, hurriedly opened the door. It opened easily. Suspicious of this fact, she couldn’t immediately get up. Her wandering eyes caught her reflection in the side mirror.
The woman with a face ravaged by tears had reddened eyes and lips. The saliva lingering on her lips reflected a distorted scene. Sierra pressed the back of her hand against her lips, rubbing hard, and got out of the car.
As she closed the car door, Sierra’s eyes met Eli’s through the window.
“Close your window properly before you sleep. So the stork can’t bring you a baby.”
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