I brace myself on my forearms, lowering until our chests press together, heartbeats competing. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my lower back.
I move slowly now, long rolls of my hips that make her breath catch. My mouth finds hers, and this kiss is nothing like before—it's deep and searching, tasting like salt and surrender.
“Ivy.” Her name on my tongue feels like prayer.
Her hands slide into my hair, not pulling, just holding me to her as we rock together. The anger burning away, leaving something raw and terrifying in its place.
“Look at me,” I demand, and when she does, her eyes are glassy. Not with tears—something deeper. Something that looks like drowning.
“I can't do this,” she whispers, but her body contradicts every word, meeting each of my thrusts with desperate need.
“You're already doing it.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. “This is a mistake.”
“Probably.” I kiss her jaw, her throat, the hollow beneath her ear. “But I'm not stopping.”
She makes a sound that's half sob, half moan. “Why do you have to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you care.” Her voice breaks. “Like this matters.”
I still inside her, forcing her to meet my eyes. “It does matter.”
“Don't.” She turns her face away. “Don't make it more than what it is.”
“And what is it?” I catch her chin, turning her back. “What is this to you?”
Her breath hitches. “A distraction. A moment of weakness.”
My hand lands on her throat as I pull back, driving forward hard enough to make her gasp.
“That feel like a distraction?”
“Asher—”
“Say it again.” Another thrust, deeper. “Tell me this means nothing. Lie to me, Venom.”
Her breath hitches, something shifting in her expression. Fear and need warring across her features.
I change the angle, grinding against her clit with each thrust, and she gasps. “That's it. Let me have you. All of you.”
“Asher—” My name sounds like a sob.
“I'm right here.” I press my forehead to hers, movements becoming urgent, desperate. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. “Promise me.”
The plea destroys me. “I promise.”
She breaks.
It's not just physical—I feel it in the way she shatters beneath me, the way her whole body convulses and her cry sounds like grief and relief tangled together. Her walls clench around me in waves, pulling me deeper, and I'm powerless against it.
My own orgasm rips through me with violent force. I bury myself to the hilt, groaning her name against her throat as I come undone. Every muscle locks, spine arching, vision whiting out.
We stay locked together, trembling, neither willing to move first. Her hands slide down my back, gentler now, tracing scars she can't see.
