Page 90 of Tempting Venom
“This is not a threat. Stop searching for one.” He nibbles on the shell of my ear. “Besides, you’re enjoying this a bit too much, your dick is weeping for me.”
“Told you it’s not for you…fuck?—”
He slaps my ass, and I get on my tiptoes as pain explodes on the bruised flesh.
Oh, fuck. If he keeps doing that, I’m going to come…
“If it’s not for me, then for whom? Hmm?” Behind me, I hear fabric rustling, then feel his body shifting. “I’m the one whose hand you’re throbbing in, begging for more like a greedy little whore.”
“Fuck you.”
“Mmm. Whatever you want, beautiful.”
Even as I hear more movement behind me, I’m distracted by what he called me.Beautiful.
I mean, IknowI am. That’s what I hear all the time. That’s what Isayto my reflection in the mirror in the mornings, building the perfect illusion so no one can see the disfigured monster tucked beneath the Greek god’s looks.
But the way he said it felt sincere. Too sincere. Like hebelievesI’m beautiful.
My eyes widen when he pulls at my ass cheek, and something hard and warm nudges against my hole.
I buck violently, nearly falling over as I stare behind me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Shh. Stay still.”
Still gripping my cock, he uses the arm that’s looped around my waist to keep me in place with brute strength.
“D-don’t,” I whisper as the fat, thick crown presses firmly to my hole. “Just…don’t.”
“Relax. I’m not going to fuck you.Yet.”
Despite the awkward angle, I watch with bated breath as he spits on top of his cock that’s now sliding up and down the crack of my ass.
The image is filthy and wrong in my head.
I don’t like it—or more like, Ishouldn’tlike it.
The reality is, my dick is so hard, I’m about to burst.
His cock is as huge as mine and almost just as thick. Fuck this shit. Couldn’t he at least have a small dick to fit the asshole personality?
The spit adds friction as he glides his length up and down the crack, his eyes closing briefly in pure bliss as he bites the corner of his lip. “Your ass feels good, baby…so fucking good.”
I’m enamored, hypnotized, kind of feeling the neurons in my brain disappearing on me one by one, because fucking hell.
How can a man look so mouthwateringly sexy?
He’s aman, I remind myself. A fuckingman. No soft curves or beautiful features. Just muscles and harshness and those thick brows drawing together as he groans.
I mean, he’s handsome, I guess, but he’s not the kind of beauty I find sexy.
At all.
So why the hell can’t I look away?
His jeans and boxers are close to his knees, and on his right muscular thigh, I notice a striking dagger tattoo that’s deeply etched into a daisy.
He opens his droopy eyes, and I jerk my attention toward the locker.
