Page 107 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
With cum pooling in the valleys of my stomach, I can’t help but lie here, stunned.
Clutching her panties to my face as if it’s the singular remaining thread to my sanity.
Gradually, my heartbeat slows, eyes growing heavy, and I drift into a deep sleep where I find myself standing on a familiar shore.
VIOLETTE
After repairing my boudoir’s mirror, I dress in one of my black silk gowns. Boasting a high collar, the chest gapes wide and provides a delicious display of my breasts. The rest of the fabric hugs the dip in my waist before falling to the floor in two separate sheets that reveal the pale expanse of my hips and thighs. So very similar, if not a little more modern, to what I was wearing that night with Azrael in his carriage.
The style has become something of a uniform for me, but I don’t allow myself to draw any significance between the two.
Afterwillingmy lashes to lengthen and curl, I decorate my lids with a delicate wing of eyeliner, before applying a rosy balm to my lips.
My hair lies in bold, loose waves.
I can only pray that Azrael will be pleased to see me, despite our last interaction, when he found me naked in Lucen’s arms after explicitly warning me away from him.
Steeling my nerves, I turn away from the mirror andwillthe elegant pin he created for me between my thumb and forefinger. My heart flutters and my stomach swoops as I prick the tip of my index finger and summon all the thoughts of him I’ve been suppressing for the last fifteen-odd years.
Black and gold vapors begin to pour from a seam in mid-air, stretching and widening until a seamless doorway opens to reveal his palace in Hell.
A wave of heat slams into me as I step through.
Lining the front of Azrael’s palace—or at least what remains of it after a goddess from my own realm, Bellorum, split Azrael’s realm in twain not so long ago—are dozens of nephilim, the infamous guardians of his realm. They boast curling black horns larger than mine, feathered wings of varying shades, and dark tattoos that bind them to Azrael’s service and endow them with much of their power.
Their black and gold armor glints beneath the heat of too many suns—five.
The nearest nephilim cast me wary glances. Only one steps forward.
“State your business.”
Briefly hesitating, my eyes scan the palace remains.
It looks as if dragons crashed into it—much of it lying in rubble, scorched beyond repair, with giant claw marks carving through several giant, broken pillars. Though part of it appears to be in the process of being rebuilt.
“I wish to speak with Azrael.”
“And you are?”
“Raia Lunessa Violette Vale.”
My heart leaps at the sound of his voice—that soothing velvety baritone—speaking a name I haven’t heard in over a decade. Standing only a few feet from him, after all these years, my mouth is suddenly dry.
The nephilim bow as I turn on my heel to find Azrael standing a few feet behind me.
I’d nearly forgotten the immense power that radiates from him, just as breathtaking now as it was then. A tingling, vibrating sensation coupled with what I can only equate tosomething like the mild panic experienced when standing too near the edge of a cliff without one’s wings.
Thankfully, the sensation subsides quickly as my magic adjusts.
The nearly seven-foot god is as striking as I remember him. Broad, muscular, and dressed in a finely tailored suit from a human realm, I’d wager. That familiar, penetrative, bright hazel gaze glitters with interest as he takes me in from head to toe in a way that makes me feel too exposed.
Concern tightens his features. “You’ve changed your name…”
A history I’d rather not revisit. I clear my throat as I attempt to maintain a composure I don’t feel. “I go by my middle name now. Violette.”
He studies me for a moment. “And this is what you prefer?”
“Yes... I apologize for showing up so abruptly. I wasn’t sure how else to contact you, and the last time?—
