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Chapter 1864: Should I Carve it Out for You?

Villain Ch 1864. Should I Carve it Out for You?

Allen gritted his teeth, groaned deep from his chest, and spilled into her, thrusting hard enough to make the glass rattle in its fra. His jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, the kind of climax that burned through his spine and ripped the breath from his lungs.

He held her up until her entire body went limp. Vivian was nothing but shivers, boneless, ruined—her leg still draped over his arm until he lowered her gently.

She whimpered as he pulled out, still trembling, still clenching around the mory of him.

Allen kissed her damp hair softly, then guided her to the couch like she was glass. She collapsed face-first into the cushions, naked and glowing, mumbling incoherent sounds that might have been his na.

Allen staggered back, dropped to the carpet, and sprawled flat on his back. His chest heaved, lungs dragging for air like he’d just run marathons stacked on marathons. His body glistened with sweat, muscles quivering, cock still half-hard and twitching, marked by lipstick stains, scratches, and bite marks.

“Damn…” he groaned, his voice hoarse, raw. He let his head fall back against the rug, one arm draped over his eyes. “That’s… intense.”

The villa was wrecked.

The air thick with sex and wine.

Their bodies sprawled, their lingerie ruined, makeup sared.

But all of them looked satisfied.

No. More than satisfied.

They looked worshipful.

The first to move was Larissa. She crawled across the floor, her hair ssy and held out a glass of water like a priestess offering to her god. Her lips were swollen, her thighs streaked with sweat, but her smile was serene.

“Drink,” she whispered.

Allen took it without moving, tipping the water back greedily. Cool liquid ran down his throat, spilling down his chin. He hissed as it hit his overheated body.

Then—Jane.

She crawled next, her knees dragging against the carpet, her eyeliner smudged to hell. Her eyes glead as she reached for him. Without hesitation, she wrapped her hand around his cock, leaned down, and pressed her lips against him.

“Let clean you,” she murmured, and before Allen could answer, her tongue was on him—slow, deliberate, worshipful.

Allen groaned, head tipping back, the sound low and exhausted and feral all at once. He didn’t stop her. Didn’t need to. He just laid there, sprawled under the couch, letting Jane taste every inch of him with reverence.

“Damn…” he muttered again, voice breaking on the word. His hand slid lazily to her hair, not pushing, just resting there, letting her do as she pleased.

The others stirred.

Zoe crawled closer, collapsed at his side, her cheek pressed to his chest. Her hand splayed over his heart, feeling its wild, erratic beat.

“Tell you love this too,” she whispered, her voice half-demand, half-plea.

Allen turned his head. Looked at her. At all of them.

Shea’s flushed face.

Larissa’s soft smile.

Bella sprawled and trembling, licking her lips like she wanted another round already.

Alice still giggling weakly, lipstick smudged on her chin.

Vivian collapsed on the couch, still twitching from aftershocks.

Azura peeking shyly from behind the blanket, her eyes wide and adoring despite her obvious ruin.

All of them.

Ruined and perfect.

Allen exhaled, slow and heavy.

“I love this,” he admitted, voice rough but sincere. His gaze swept across them, lingering on each face, every mark he’d left on them.

Then he smirked.

“But…” he added, his tone shifting, darker, deeper. “I want beyond this.”

The air froze.

Their tired bodies still humd with satisfaction, still slick and shivering and marked. But his words lit sparks under their skin.

Beyond this?

Beyond wrecking them in a villa until their voices broke and their legs gave out?

Shea lifted her head, lips parting, breath shaky. “Beyond…?”

Allen’s smirk widened.

His hand slid from Jane’s hair to cup her cheek, slow and gentle now—nothing like the way he’d just ravaged her. His other arm curled around Zoe’s waist, dragging her down into his lap with the sa casual dominance that made their stomachs flutter.

He pulled both of them closer without even trying, without effort, his strength still terrifying even after hours of burning it away. His muscles twitched under the sweat-slick skin, still warm, still pulsing with residual power.

They lted into him.

And for a mont, all the moaning, groaning, the fucked-out chaos of the room… faded.

Just breath.

Soft light.

And the weight of sothing heavier than sex.

He exhaled slowly. His voice was low now. Real.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes scanning the room lazily. “I love this.”

His hand slid down Jane’s neck, his thumb brushing her collarbone.

“The touch. The sounds. The begging. The way your legs shake when I breathe down your thighs…”

He smirked again when her cheeks flushed.

“But,” he continued, “I want more.”

Zoe’s breath hitched.

Jane blinked, confused.

Allen tilted his head back, letting it rest against the carpet. He stared up at the villa ceiling like it held answers.

“I want…” he paused, like the words tasted strange. “Your hearts.”

Silence.

“You an like…” Larissa said from nearby, voice half-hoarse. “Figuratively, or like, should I carve it out for you?”

“Larissa,” Azura muttered, hiding her face with a pillow.

Allen chuckled, lips curved lazily. “Figuratively. I think.”

He sat up slowly, muscles groaning, abs flexing under Zoe and Jane like a beast trying to lift itself from the battlefield. He didn’t fully rise, just rested against the couch, arms open, cock softening but still glistening with Jane’s spit and his release.

She wiped her mouth and leaned against him again, more like a cat than a priestess now.

“I an sex,” Allen continued, “it’s nice. You need it. I need it.”

Alice gave a sleepy thumbs up from sowhere on the carpet. “Certified nice.”

Vivian groaned. “Certified destroyed.”

Allen grinned, eyes flickering from girl to girl. “But sohow… I didn’t want a hollow one. I love the play, but I prefer all of it to go naturally, you know?”

His tone softened again.

“I don’t want just the scenes. The roles. The screaming and the begging and the ssy sheets.”

He looked at Jane. At Zoe. Then at the others.

“I want the fire. The obsession. But I want it to be real. No masks. No filters. No pretending this is just for fun. If you’re gonna want … I want you to want .”

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