Chapter 1865: The Kind of Love That Burns
Villain Ch 1865. The Kind of Love That Burns
Jane blinked. Her lip trembled. Just for a second.
Zoe’s eyes flicked down to his chest, tracing one of the scratches she’d left on him like it was a contract.
Bella exhaled sharply.
Shea turned her head away, biting her lip.
Vivian made a low humming sound, soft and shaky.
None of them spoke at first.
But something shifted.
The atmosphere cracked.
Allen leaned back again and sighed. "Damn it, I sound like a drama lead or something."
"No," Larissa said, crawling toward him. "You sound like someone who knows what he wants."
Allen gave her a half-laugh, half-snort. "And you sound like someone who’s about to sit on my face."
She paused mid-crawl. "Do you want me to?"
He groaned. "That’s not the point—"
But her eyes glinted.
And she pounced.
He caught her easily, letting her straddle him, her thighs squeezing his waist like a prayer. She didn’t grind. Just leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.
"I want you too," she whispered. "Not just your cock. Not just your voice. Not just the chaos you bring into every fucking room."
Her hands trailed down his chest.
"I want you. The part of you that breathes too hard after a fight. The part of you that watches over us even when you’re pretending not to care. The part of you that said ’beyond this’ and meant it."
Allen stared up at her. No grin this time. No smirk. Just eyes—hungry, tired, surprised.
Then Azura came closer. Still shy. Still flushed. She crawled over the carpet like it was sacred ground. Her dress was long gone, her skin glowing from sweat and something deeper.
"I want to learn you," she said softly, pressing herself beside him. "Not just serve you. But... understand what makes you burn. What makes you feel."
Then Jane again, whispering at his shoulder. "I’m already ruined. You know that, right? No one else could ever compare. You ruined me and made me love it."
Vivian, from the couch, lifted her hand. "I’d follow you into hell."
"Same," Shea muttered.
"Been there," Alice chimed in. "I’d do it again."
Allen blinked.
He was... surrounded.
Smothered.
Worshipped.
But not just by bodies.
By hearts.
Their hearts.
They reached for him—not to pull him down into lust again, but to pull him deeper. To let him drown in something worse than desire.
Affection.
Obsession.
The kind of love that burns.
He felt Jane kiss his neck.
Larissa traced his jaw with her nails.
Zoe nestled back into his lap, her breasts pressing to his stomach.
Azura clutched his hand with fingers trembling.
He looked at them.
At all of them.
And he didn’t feel like the Emperor.
He felt... full.
Breathless.
Hunted.
Treasured.
And all he could do was laugh. A tired, soft, guttural laugh that came from somewhere in his ribs.
"You girls are fucking insane," he whispered.
"Yes," Larissa whispered back. "Yours."
"Addicted," Jane breathed.
Zoe nuzzled into his neck. "And you love it."
Allen tilted his head. "I do. I really fucking do."
Then Shea leaned over the couch, her lips brushing his ear. "Then stop talking."
He turned to her. "Why?"
She grinned.
"Because I’m not done ruining you."
And just like that—
The Emperor was dragged back into the fire.
This time... not by duty.
Not by ego.
But by a dozen unhinged women who didn’t want to be queens—
They wanted to be his.
And that?
That was a battlefield he had no plan to survive.
The villa was ruined.
Not by fire. Not by war.
By moans, screams, the sound of furniture scraping across the floor, and the chaotic rhythm of bodies colliding like they were trying to kill each other with pleasure.
Allen’s chest rose and fell as he lay flat on the carpet, sweat-soaked, lips bruised, cock still hard enough to make him groan when Zoe straddled him again.
"You can’t be serious," he rasped, half a laugh caught in his throat.
Zoe leaned down, hair sticking to her cheek, her breasts pressed against him. "I’m always serious."
And she rode him like she meant it. Like she was claiming territory.
The others? They weren’t waiting.
Shea had already pinned his hands over his head before, whispering in his ear like a drill sergeant commanding obedience. Then she had him on his knees, panting, while she rode his face until her thighs trembled so hard she collapsed.
Jane, of course, had whispered dirty lines, making him groan with every filthy command. And then she surprised even herself by begging him to take her against the fireplace—her words breaking into whimpers as Allen gave her exactly what she asked for.
Vivian? She dragged him to the glass again, pushed her ass against him, and demanded to be fucked with the stars as their witnesses. She’d screamed his name against the window so loudly that if the glass hadn’t been enchanted, the forest outside would’ve echoed it back.
Larissa was worse. She’d poured wine down her chest and dared him to lick it clean. And when he did, she pulled his hair and made him promise he’d never let another woman hear him beg like he begged her to let him inside.
Alice made him play her "board game" again—except this time she swapped all the rules. "Every card says the same thing now," she giggled, naked on his lap. "You fuck me until I can’t say my own name."
And Bella—sweet Bella—had been shy at first. But by the time Allen lifted her against the kitchen counter and thrust into her with one arm around her waist, her shy moans had turned into screams that made the chefs outside probably wonder if someone was dying in here.
Azura? She’d been quiet. Nervous. But when Allen finally coaxed her into his arms, kissing her with the patience of a saint and the hunger of a beast, she let go. She rode him slow, trembling, her nails carving crescents into his chest, and whispered in his ear—"I want to be yours, even if it kills me."
And Allen?
Allen gave them all of it.
Every position. Every fantasy. Every whispered sin.