Page 109 of Lovely Venom

Those words ignite a bolt of white-hot desire deep within me. It’s insane and reckless, but I’ve never wanted to play a more dangerous game. I’m not thinking beyond this moment. I just know that I need to feel what it’s like with him, and I’ve already made up my mind.

“I want you to come inside me.” I scrape my fingers over his back, pulling him closer.

A low fuck escapes him on a harsh breath as his hips jerk, and he buries himself deep, groaning out his release.

A tremor pulses through him as he fills me with his warmth, and I watch in a pleasure-drunk haze. I’m certain I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than this ruthlessly composed man coming apart for me.

My gaze wanders over him, mapping the broad planes of smooth, tanned muscles as I commit every inch to memory.

He catches me staring, but he doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, he brushes my hair back, checking in with me as if he knows my thoughts are already spiraling.

“All good, gattina?”

I nod, silently observing him as he withdraws from my body and stares down at the cum spilling out of me with dark, hot eyes.

I’m still trying to process when he lies beside me, his palm drifting over my thigh. My eyes fall shut as I replay everything through a new lens. The way our time at Sanctum evolved. How from the beginning, it felt like he wanted to protect me.

How long had he been quietly studying me before we met there?

I always knew something felt out of balance. He understood me before we even began. It was supposed to be anonymous. Detached. But now—I’m not sure what it was.

“You matched with me at the club intentionally.” I sneak a glance at him to find he’s already watching me. “Why?”

The question hangs between us for a long stretch of silence before he answers.

“It was only meant to be one night.”

The delivery of that confession is too raw to be anything other than honest. But I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. Because now I realize what must have happened.

“And then what?” I swallow.

I expect that he’ll tell me he realized how messed up I was, but I’m not prepared for what he actually says.

“And then I realized I’d grossly miscalculated what one taste of you would do to me.”

Those words settle inside the most broken part of me, and I have no idea how to feel about it.

“I didn’t want to want you either.” His hand slides up my thigh, warm and possessive. “But here we are.”

His admission reminds me of what he said on our video call when I suggested one final meeting. He told me I didn't know what I was asking of him, and as I unravel that thread, it becomes painfully obvious.

I always thought Cristian must have hated me from the beginning, but he only chose to reveal it once I was dating his best friend.

Now, I can see everything as it really happened.

I was with Cristian first. I just didn't know it. And after I ran away from him and ended up with Marco a year later, he had a good reason to resent me.

Him leaving the room every time Marco and I were together wasn't random. It was real hostility because he had to watch me with another man.

"Oh, God." The realization hollows out my stomach. "Cristian⁠—"

Words fail me, because what can I possibly say? There's nothing I can do to fix it now.

I see it in real time as it registers on his face that he understands exactly what I'm thinking about. His jaw tightens, and something unreadable flickers in his eyes.

"I didn't know." The words tumble out, not remotely conveying what I'm feeling inside. "I wouldn't have done that if I'd known⁠—"

"You weren't ready then," he answers quietly, leaving the second part unsaid.