Page 151 of Lovely Venom

“Yes,” he answers reluctantly. “They didn’t give me a choice.”

“Who?”

“Ares’s men.” He sighs. “They spotted our fire from their boat.”

I try to imagine how that scenario played out, but I can’t.

“How did Ares know to warn you?”

“I don’t know yet.” His jaw tightens. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“When did they find you?”

“A few hours ago. Angelo picked me up from the hospital, and we stopped by the penthouse so I could shower and change. I had Mariella check on you when I talked to her on the phone, and you were asleep. I told her not to wake you.”

It takes a minute to process everything before it hits me all over again.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” I blink back a fresh wave of tears.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he says softly, his gaze drifting down my body and lingering on my abdomen.

It isn’t something we’ve talked about, but we both know it’s a possibility. I can only assume that while he was out there, he must have been thinking about it—and wondering if he was going to leave me here alone.

That thought twists me up inside.

I drag my fingers through his hair, palming the back of his head as my gaze drops to his mouth.

“Cristian—”

I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say. So I close the distance between us and brush my lips against his.

A ragged breath spills out of him as his hands settle on my hips, gripping me tight. He lets me take the lead, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss. The first taste of him soaks into my veins, feeding an addiction I can no longer deny.

A desperate, frantic hunger sparks between us as his hands start to roam, and I deepen the kiss. Instinct has me grinding down against his erection as he palms the curves of my ass.

A deep, masculine sound crawls up his throat, and it heats my blood.

I can’t stop kissing him, and I’m worried he might be in too much pain, but I also can’t form a rational thought. I just know that I need him.

“Can you?” I ask breathlessly.

“I could be bleeding out, and I still wouldn’t say no,” he rumbles.

I smile against him as I slip my hand beneath his waistband, stroking the heavy length of his cock.

A second later, he has me on my back, staring up at him while he strips off his shirt and pants. But when he glances down at me, he pauses.

“Are you wearing my T-shirt?”

I bite my lip and nod.

A quiet acknowledgment passes between us as his eyes search mine.

In his absence, the walls around my heart have shattered, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to rebuild them.

That moment suspends itself as a charge hums through the air, tethering us together like an invisible thread.

His palms skate up my thighs, dipping beneath the hem of the shirt and pushing the fabric up to my navel. He seems to like the sight of me in his shirt too much to remove it, so he doesn’t.