"You’re begging for trouble," He growled, his cock already throbbing, hard and thick, straining toward her.
"Then fuck me senseless," She taunted, nails raking his chest, leaving burning trails. She arched, pressing her wet cunt against him, her heat searing through the air.
He ripped the sheet away, baring her completely. His hands roamed, rough and greedy, fingers digging into her hips as he positioned his cock at her entrance. She was soaked, her pussy lips swollen, quivering under his touch. No gentleness—neither craved it. He slammed into her, his thick shaft stretching her tight walls, her sharp cry bouncing off the walls as he filled her to the hilt.
Her nails clawed his shoulders, urging him deeper as her legs locked around his waist, pulling him into her pulsing heat. Their rhythm was savage, relentless, the bed groaning under each brutal thrust. Her moans turned to screams, mixing with his guttural grunts, the wet slap of his balls against her ass echoing in the room. Her cunt gripped him like a vise, hot and slick, matching his ferocity as she bucked against him, desperate for more.
"Fuck me harder," She gasped, her voice raw, needy. He gripped her hips, bruising her soft flesh, angling his cock to pound her G-spot mercilessly. She screamed, her pussy clenching as an orgasm ripped through her, juices coating his shaft. Her climax only fueled him, his thrusts turning punishing, his cock slamming into her dripping core with savage intensity.
Sweat drenched their bodies, the city’s glow painting their skin in electric hues. Her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking as she dragged him into a brutal kiss, teeth biting his lip until blood mixed with their spit. The pain spiked his arousal, driving him to fuck her harder, his cock pistoning into her soaked pussy until nothing existed but her tight heat and his primal need.
She came again, her screams muffled against his mouth as her body convulsed, her cunt spasming around his cock. The sight of her—wrecked, writhing, dripping with sweat and cum—pushed him over. With a primal roar, he erupted, pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside her pulsing pussy, his vision whitening as pleasure consumed him.
They collapsed, panting, tangled in the ruined sheets, her pussy still leaking their combined fluids. She traced a finger along his jaw, her laugh low and wicked. "You’re so fucked," She whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction.
He smirked, breathless. "Worth every second."
In a high-rise apartment in New York, Jason steps out of the bathroom, dripping wet, wraps himself in a gray bathrobe, and sips a glass of whiskey while standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at Manhattan’s glittering nightlife.
Skyscrapers blaze with light, roads are choked with cars, and the laughter of passersby fills the air.
What a vibrant, bustling scene.
On the plaza’s giant screen, a news anchor in a blue-and-white striped suit spits out the latest scoop with fervor.
"According to sources, the military is set to procure Stark Industries’ cutting-edge Jericho missile..."
Jericho missile?
Jason downs his whiskey in one gulp, racking his brain for memories of a past life.
Some high-ranking Stark Industries guy was a villain in that movie, right? What was his name?
It’s been too long; his old memories are nearly gone.
Jason Walter, born October 15, 1981, in the slums of Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan’s gritty underbelly. His father was a lowlife in a local gang, his mother a cashier at a nearby convenience store. He was an only child.
Thanks to his father, Jason’s childhood was steeped in gangs, guns, and violence.
It made him a strange kid, out of place among his peers.
Life in the underclass was brutal. To eat, he started stealing at eight, extorting classmates at ten, and robbing lone pedestrians with a 9mm pistol by twelve.
At thirteen, his parents were killed in a gang dispute, and Jason went off the rails, landing in juvie for assault.
At seventeen, out of jail, he joined a small Hell’s Kitchen gang. With skills honed in lockup, he quickly rose through the ranks.
Soon after, a rising crime lord named Kingpin extended an offer. Jason joined him, becoming his top enforcer.
Over the next decade, Jason’s ruthless drive propelled him upward, stepping over bodies to become Kingpin’s right-hand man.
Cars, a penthouse, cash, good looks, women, and hundreds of loyal, lethal underlings—by twenty-seven, Jason was living the high life.
But...
Jason glances at the plaza screen, where Tony Stark, sporting a mustache and roasting a female reporter, fills him with a sudden wave of exhaustion and dread.
In a year, superheroes and villains will swarm the earth.
This planet will become the battleground for cosmic wars, with gods and titans dropping by to flex their might.
Jason’s just a gang’s number two. Even if he reached Kingpin’s level, to those cosmic heavyweights, he’d still be an ant—albeit a slightly tougher one.
The thought leaves his future looking bleak.
[Ding! You slept with Kingpin’s girlfriend, earning 20 Villain Points!]
"What?!"
A transparent screen pops up before him, making Jason’s brow furrow.
Is this the damn system I’ve been waiting twenty-seven years for?
After a stunned moment, he turns to the hardwood bed five steps away.
A woman, Vanessa, Kingpin’s girlfriend, sleeps soundly on the duvet, a satisfied smile on her face. The bed’s a mess, evidence of their recent, intimate "exchange."
Kingpin’s no ordinary man.
He’s Jason’s boss.
A hulking beast who can punch through concrete.
A crime lord with hundreds of ruthless followers.
The king of New York’s underworld, controlling all its illegal trade.
Vanessa is Kingpin’s one true love. Anyone who so much as whistles at her ends up in a dumpster by dawn.
Jason knows her place in Kingpin’s heart, which is why this whole thing feels utterly insane.
A few days ago, Kingpin’s business in L.A. hit a snag, forcing him to leave New York overnight.
Worried about Vanessa’s safety—his enemies are as numerous as his goons—he tasked Jason, his trusted lieutenant, with protecting her.
Though Jason wanted to head to L.A. and crush the problem, Kingpin’s word was law. Grudgingly, he complied.
So, Jason became Vanessa’s personal bodyguard, trailing her everywhere, ensuring her safety.
Resentful, he gave her the cold shoulder.
Oddly, his aloofness piqued her interest.
She started chatting him up, building a connection. It escalated to dinners at restaurants, shopping sprees on Fifth Avenue, and visits to art galleries.
And then...
[Ding! Mission complete. Great Villain System fully activated!]
The flickering screen snaps Jason back to reality.
[Host: Jason Walter]
[Level: 1 (20/1000) (Earn Villain Points through missions or evil deeds)]
[Strength: 33 (Ability to lift and withstand weight; average adult: 10)]
[Agility: 32 (Movement and reflex speed; average adult: 10)]
[Endurance: 30 (Resilience and recovery; average adult: 10)]
[Intelligence: 28 (Mental acuity and info processing; average adult: 10)]
[Attribute Points: 0 (Gain 10 per level-up)]
[Reputation: 0 (Earn through infamous evil deeds)]
[Allies: None (Accumulate Reputation to recruit villainous allies from movies, comics, novels, games, etc.)]
[Points: 0 (Exchange $10,000 for 1 Point to purchase Shop items)]
[Skills: Combat Mastery (Level 4), Driving Mastery (Level 3), Firearms Mastery (Level 4), Melee Weapons Mastery (Level 2)]
[Shop: Click here]
Attributes, Reputation, Allies, Points, Skills, Shop...
Jason scans each line carefully, then opens the Shop interface.
[Shop: Melee Weapons Mastery, Combat Mastery, Firearms Mastery, Driving Mastery, Pilot Mastery, Special Ops Mastery, Special Vehicle Mastery, Interrogation Mastery, Lockpicking Mastery, Theft Mastery, Mandarin Mastery, Psychology Mastery, Political Science Mastery...]
The Shop’s inventory is vast. Jason’s barely scratched the surface when his Nokia rings.
Caller ID: Kingpin.
Goosebumps erupt across his body.
’I’m screwed!’
’Kingpin knows!’
A chill runs down his spine.
’No, no, no!’
’I was careful. There’s no way he knows.’
’Stay calm. Don’t lose it.’
"Mmm..." Vanessa stirs, disturbed by the ringtone.
No time to admire her curves, Jason covers the speaker, steps out, and answers, "Boss."
"Jason," Kingpin’s gruff voice rumbles through.
Jason swallows hard. "Boss, what’s up?"
Kingpin: "..."
"Everything’s fine in New York. The deal with Madam Gao is going smoothly."
Kingpin: "..."
A bad feeling creeps in. "Boss, something happened in L.A.?"
Kingpin: "Tell me, Jason. How was sleeping with Vanessa?"