Page 2 of Lovely Venom

Why else would he still be here?

“Answer me.” The steady cadence of his voice brings me back to the moment.

His earlier question hangs heavy in the air, and I remember what he told me because he says it every time.

“I’m safe with you,” I whisper.

The disturbing thing is that it feels like it’s true. When I’m surrounded by him, drunk on the way he handles me, another barrier erodes. And every time I lean into that feeling, an emotional catastrophe looms on the horizon. But when he directs me with that quiet dominance in his voice, my mind switches off, and I just…exist.

“That’s it.” He eases me against him as my body gives way, melting into his. “I’ve got you now.”

Those words envelop me in warmth, soothing old wounds and feeding my growing addiction for his approval.

The heat from his chest penetrates my back, a first for us. Skin to skin, touching without purpose or desire—but simply to let go.

I close my eyes, allowing myself a new type of pleasure as he massages the tension from my shoulders. It feels…good. So good, I fall into a suspended state of stillness, disarming my usual defenses.

His hands sweep along my arms, and goosebumps follow in their wake. I don’t know what to expect next, and my breath hitches when he lifts my arm, draping it over his shoulder. My palm settles on the back of his neck, and I focus on the steady pulse of his heartbeat as he trails his fingers down the length of my ribcage.

As his fingers roam, I breathe in the cocktail of chemistry unique to him. It’s an intoxicating high, and I know when I go home tonight, that scent will cling to my skin.

I let myself drown in it as he touches me everywhere, the slow slide of his hands taking me to a place I’ve never been before. It’s blissful, weightless, and feels far too much like somewhere I could belong.

Like home.

We linger in that moment for an eternity, my heartbeat slowing to a crawl as I nearly drift off.

His palm settles over my chest, the solid weight anchoring me to him. It’s intimate, but I can’t deny that I like it.

“Tell me who hurt you.” The warmth of his voice caresses my ear.

My lips part as something inside me whispers that it’s okay.

I’m aware he’s a dangerous man, even without knowing who he is or what he does. I recognized that quiet lethality in him the first time we met. I understand if I give him a name, he’ll make the problem disappear.

There’s an undeniable temptation in that, and for a moment, I get caught up in the fantasy.

This version of me wants to trust him with the most broken parts of myself. But then I remember what happened the last time I trusted someone.

Tears.

Betrayal.

Cruel hands.

He’s not going to save you, sweetheart. He was the one who offered you to me.

The echo of his laughter hollows out my chest.

“Breathe,” Bran murmurs, dragging me back to the present. “You’re safe with me, dea.”

Those words leave a catastrophic wound.

It’s a pretty lie, and I almost let myself believe it. But trust is an illusion, and I promised myself I’d never fall into that trap again.

That thought has me in a chokehold as I scramble out of his grasp, offering him a lie of my own.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m done.”