Page 120 of Toxic Kiss

I narrow my gaze. “No.”

“Say. It.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I raise my chin and stare my monster straight in the eyes.

“Never.”

With a hard and devastating jerk, the fabric tears. My shirt splits down the middle, the word Venomous hangs open as my chest rises and falls too fast. But I don’t try to cover myself back up as Cy’s eyes lock on my breasts.

“Say it,” he demands again.

“I already told you, no.”

His jaw tightens, and something cracks. I see it in his stare. Possessive and completely unforgiving.

“Why are you so stubborn,” he asks, voice reduced to a deep growl.

“Why have you always been such an asshole?”

We freeze, and everything goes still. Chills race through my body as I brace for a fight. For the version of Cyrus who used to break me just to prove he could.

But this? This is worse.

Cy’s hand tangles in my hair, and he pulls. I cry out as my body arches back. He has me exposed and vulnerable. My nipples harden in the cool air brushing against him. Cy runs his hand up my chest, teasing my breasts. His hands are rough, and I can feel him balancing on a dangerous edge.

“Fuck me, you’re my ruination,” Cy whispers. I’m not sure how to take that, but the gravelly sound and the feel of his breath make my core ache.

My breath stutters, and my thoughts scatter to the wind. Everything narrows down to Cyrus and the heat burning between us. My body responds as if it remembers him. This is surrender masquerading as defiance. I know it will end badly. With Cy, there is no alternative. But those thoughts are distant and drowned out by a much louder truth.

I want him.

I’ve always wanted him.

And whatever this—twisted, toxic, inevitable—thing is. I’m about to let it happen.

chapter

thirty-one

“Some cravings fade. You only got louder, like a chorus I can’t stop screaming.” – Cyrus

CYRUS

The moment she stops fighting, I feel it.

Not in words, because she’s too damn stubborn to admit it out loud, but in the way her body molds to mine, remembering me just as well as I remember her. The soft moan on her lips as she submits to my touch triggers something primal. Something that has been clawing at my ribs since the second she walked back into my life, and whatever restraint I’ve been holding onto crumbles under the weight of it.

God, I’ve missed this.

Missed her.

Missed the way she looks at me like I’m the worst thing that ever happened to her, and she still can’t bring herself to walk away. It’s confirmation that she is as addicted to me as I am to her.

My hand tightens in her hair, and she gasps. I need something solid to hold onto before I completely lose control. Her throat is exposed, her body arching, every inch of her reacts to me in a way that makes my head spin, and I can feel the line I shouldn’t cross hovering right in front of me.

I step over it anyway.

“You think I don’t see it?” I murmur, my voice rough, darker than simple desire.