The Villains Must Win

Chapter 362: (+18) Alistair Cain 22

Slowly at first—testing, steadying—before Alistair’s rhythm grew more insistent.

There was concern in his touch, but no retreat, only a relentless pull that forced Selene to open further. Each motion rippled through her, powerful enough to steal her breath entirely.

She clung to the sofa, knuckles white.

"It hurts..."

For a moment, he stilled, eyes tracing the tension in her body—then his hands tightened at her waist, heat surging again as he drew her back against him.

Her body shook at the depth of the sensation, pain and pressure coiling together until her breath fractured.

Tears welled in her eyes—not only from the strain, but from the confusion. Where had that earlier, dizzying joy gone?

"L-lord Alistair..."

"It’s tight," he murmured, voice strained. "Even for me."

Her tears fell freely now, breath breaking as he looked down at her, his expression caught between restraint and resolve.

"Should I stop?" he asked, his touch slow.

She couldn’t answer—only a helpless sound escaped her lips.

He took that sound as permission.

His rhythm changed, growing more daring, more forceful, until sensation crashed through her in relentless waves.

Heat burned where their bodies met, overwhelming and consuming, leaving her gasping, clinging, and utterly gasping.

His movements turned unrestrained—faster, deeper, relentless. Heat surged between them, each motion echoing through her body until the sensation bordered on unbearable.

"Ah—"

Selene’s breath fractured as her body answered without permission, tightening and yielding in helpless rhythm. The intensity stole her thoughts, leaving only sensation behind.

She felt undone—open, trembling, overwhelmed by the force of it. Even he seemed shaken by how completely she reacted, how readily she gave herself over to the moment.

"Yes... that’s it."

Alistair drew her close, anchoring her to him as her strength dissolved. Her body trembled, flushed and exposed, no longer resisting what she was becoming.

"You ruin me," he said quietly.

And in his arms, breathless and burning, Selene surrendered—her innocence left behind as the Underworld claimed her, not with darkness alone, but with irrevocable transformation.

Alistair’s fangs sank into the delicate curve of her neck at the height of it, and Selene gasped, her voice breaking into a breathless cry louder than she had ever made before.

The sound shattered something in him.

He had never known this sensation.

Claiming her—her innocence, her virginity—while his fangs rested against her skin, while pleasure surged through him at the same moment, sent a shock through his very core.

It was overwhelming. Intoxicating. Nothing like the empty indulgences he had known before.

This was different.

This was something else.

Unrepeatable.

A kind of pleasure he had never felt with anyone else—and one he knew, with chilling certainty, he would never feel again with anyone but her.

Selene lay draped over Alistair like a wilting branch, all her strength spent. The sharp edge of sensation had faded, leaving behind a heavy, comforting warmth.

For the first time in a long while, rest felt possible.

"This is... an unexpected hobby," she murmured sleepily.

Alistair chuckled, brushing his hand against her with lazy affection. "Who said this was a hobby?"

Realizing she’d been teased, Selene huffed softly and tucked herself closer, seeking the shelter of his arms.

His voice came from above her, quieter now.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asked quietly.

Selene blinked up at him, a faint smile curving her lips. "My lord... are you worried about me?" she teased gently.

He hesitated, then admitted, "I think I may have taken too much of your blood."

She let out a soft laugh and reached for his hand. "You could never take more, my Lord. I belong to you."

Her gaze softened, losing its playfulness. "I’m not afraid," she said earnestly. "I know what I chose. And I don’t regret it."

She squeezed his fingers. "If I gave you even a moment of happiness—something you’ve never felt before—then that’s enough for me. Truly."

Alistair went still.

For the first time, there was no cold distance in his eyes—only something fragile and real.

"...You’re safe," he said at last, his voice low but certain. "With me. Always. As long as you could still please me, I don’t care if you’re not a virgin anymore."

And Selene smiled—warm, quiet, and content.

Inwardly, she allowed herself a small, secret triumph. Not because she had claimed him completely—she knew Alistair was not someone who could be possessed so easily—but because she had reached him. Even if only a fraction. Even if only for now.

It was enough that he had let her live.

Enough that he had not turned away.

Enough that he had chosen her when he could have chosen to discard her after she was of no use to him.

For the moment, that was more than enough.

And for the first time since entering this world, Selene felt something close to victory—not over him, but beside him.

She lifted her head, eyes wide and thoughtful, and reached up to still his expression. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she listened to his steady heartbeat while her own raced.

The words hung between them—soft, uncertain, heavy with what might come next.

Alistair slowed, his hands firm on her hips.

"Why?" he asked softly. "Are you so devoted to me? Is it because your life is in my hands?"

Selene lifted her head, startled by the sudden seriousness in his voice. As he steadied her, Alistair sensed something else—another presence lingering at the edge of the room.

He turned and found Caroline standing nearby, her face pale and still, her gaze unfocused.

Selene noticed her at once. Heat rushed to her cheeks—burning brighter when Alistair calmly shifted them, guiding her above him as though the intrusion meant nothing at all.

"Oh—my Lord..."

She tried to retreat, flustered, but he held her there, grounding her with quiet confidence. His touch was reassuring, designed to pull her attention back to him and nowhere else.

"Don’t be embarrassed," he murmured, amusement threading through his voice. "You’ve both been naked before me. Why the sudden reserve now?"

Selene instinctively leaned into Alistair, her arms curling around him as if shy. Her cheeks warmed, lashes lowering in practiced modesty—but deep inside, she smiled, quietly pleased with herself.

That private triumph was not something she intended to share, least of all with Caroline.

Caroline, however, showed no reaction at all.

Her expression remained calm, unreadable, as if the moment had passed her by entirely.

"I have something to report," Caroline said suddenly.

The shift in her tone cut cleanly through the lingering warmth in the room.