Page 87 of Lovely Venom

In this space, he’s my protector, my provider, and my overlord. And when he speaks to me like that, I’d let him ruin my whole life.

Once he accepts that I’ve been properly chastised, he collars my throat and tips my head back until I’m forced to meet his gaze.

He resumes at an unhurried pace, only now, every flicker of my emotions is laid bare for him.

It’s more intimate than anything else we’ve done before. The intensity of his possession rushes through my veins, leaving me drunk with pleasure and frantic for release.

He, however, seems willing to do this all night.

He brings me to the edge and backs me off so many times I think I might die if he doesn’t give it to me.

I’m squirming in his lap, breathless and begging for it when he pulls me closer, his words a rough caress.

“Do you remember who you belong to yet?”

“You,” I rush out.

I’d tell him anything right now to get what I want, but it doesn’t feel like a lie. He owns every inch of me at this moment, and my body is his to command.

The low growl of satisfaction in his chest proves he knows it.

He drags his thumb across my lower lip, then utters the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Now you can come.”

He pushes two fingers inside me and fucks me straight into an orgasm so consuming, I almost black out.

A relentless cascade of pleasure ripples through me, radiating outward until only pulsing aftershocks remain.

He draws it out, wrecking me so thoroughly that all I can do is lie there, completely strung out, as I wait for my senses to return.

Gradually, the blood rushing through my ears begins to subside, and the static behind my eyelids dissolves. The world comes back into focus as I open my eyes to find my head resting against his chest.

He prolongs the high with the warm, steady sweep of his hands. I feel him everywhere, and the weight of that presence triggers a sudden swell of emotion in my throat.

For three years, I’ve tried to convince myself that I’d idealized the memory of him into something that never really existed. But now that I’m back in his arms, it feels like I’ve taken my first full breath since I walked away.

I haven’t just missed this.

I’ve been starving without it.

Blinking back the pressure behind my eyes, I curl into him and bury my face against his chest. He lets me have that moment while he offers me quiet comfort, cradling the back of my head and grounding me with his touch.

Of course he knows, because he always does. He also knows I couldn’t verbalize what I’m feeling right now even if I tried. So he holds me, providing the only true sanctuary I’ve ever had.

He’s given me so much, and tonight, I want to give back.

Once I’ve gathered myself, I work up the courage to face him.

Shifting in his lap, I anchor my hands to his shoulders and straddle him.

My gaze drops to his lips, and an ember of desire stirs inside me as I imagine what it would be like to kiss him. To indulge just one tiny taste.

But I’m aware that all addictions start with one hit, and it’s too much of a slippery slope. So instead, I focus my attention on other things, like dragging my fingers through the strands of his hair.

He watches me in silence as I tip his head back, emboldening myself to do something else I’ve never done, but thought about countless times.

Teasing my lips along his jaw, I kiss my way down the column of his throat and breathe him in. That dark, intoxicating scent wraps around me, feeding the hunger I could never fully extinguish.