Page 82 of Tempting Venom
He shoves at my chest with an elbow, not really putting his strength into it, my adorably in-denial prince.
“I said.Don’t.”
“Fine,” I breathe out, even if my lips are tingling and protesting at my lack of an attempt to just devour his.
My muscles clench painfully, rigid and shaking with the brutal effort to hold myself back.
I shouldn’t give a fuck about his boundaries, but somehow, I do.
Because the last time I crossed one, he had dead eyes I never want to see again.
Preston blinks at me, then squints. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re still too close,” he mumbles, his arm continuingto press firmly against my chest, though he’s not pushing, just maintaining the distance.
“That’s because I’m waiting for you to guess what I want.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. And fuck.
Fucking hell.
My entire being sparks to life, humming with the need to devour it and him, sink my teeth into his throat.
Markhim.
“Hurt me?”
The question is quiet, too quiet, I wouldn’t have been able to hear it if I weren’t so far in his personal space that we’re breathing the same air.
And goddamn it.
The uncertainty and expectation lacing his words have my cock pulsing.
Fuckthis.
In a flash, I grab his nape, spin him around, and shove him against the locker beside his open one, the sound of scraping metal echoing in the air.
He’s too stunned to fight. If anything, a soft gasp spills out of him when I pin him to the surface, my hand secured firmly around his nape, but not choking him.
I kick his legs open with my knee and land my palm on his ass. Hard.
Even though he’s still wearing his briefs, the slap echoes in the air, and Preston releases a muffled groan.
Or more like he sinks his teeth into his lip to muffle his groan.
Pulling at the elastic band of his boxers, I slide my hand inside and knead the firm yet somehow soft muscles.
My voice drops to a rough growl as I speak close to his ear. “You want to be hurt by me, baby?”
“Isn’t that whatyouwant?”
I love how his words become breathy when he’s turned on. He’s the embodiment of fucking temptation, my prince.
And I’m no saint.
“That’s not what I asked, is it?” I pull down his boxers to his mid-thighs and land three consecutive strikes to his ass cheeks.
