Page 194 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
My hips give a single thrust, causing my fully erect cock to press against her pussy. I hadn’t exactlymeantto do so, but I’m not mad about it. The action causes her to gasp again and reach down to wrap her hand around it.
She narrows her eyes at me even as she gives it a lazy stroke.
“Your dick is always hard.”
I huff. “For you? Yes.”
Her palm circles my crown before sliding down its length. Groaning, I allow myself a single thrust to counter it before I grip her hand.
“Today’s about you, princess. You should be lying on a bed of pillows as we tend to your every whim.”
She arches a brow in challenge. “And what if my whims include putting you at my mercy?”
“Woman, so help me God, youwillget used to me taking care of you. Courtship rituals or not.” Removing her hand frommy aching length, I nip at her ear. “That being said, I want you begging and needy for us…”
Us...
My heart stutters at the word.
The fact that it slipped so easily out of my mouth, like it was natural and shouldn’t be any other way, betrays just how much I want Azrael to be part of this too.
Even Violette seems to notice—she stills, but says nothing.Thankfully.
I’m not quite ready to commit to that idea just yet. Not with the shadow of suspicion lingering in the back of my mind, and not with my too-sensitive heart still coming to terms with the fact I’m opening myself up to potential heartbreak from yet another person.
As if reading my mind, Violette turns around in the water and presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips that makes my cock twitch.
“Why don’t you go keep him company, hm?”
Her lilac eyes twinkle with knowing.
My chest pinches in my chest.
Fuck.
LEVI
As I make my way downstairs, I can hear the distant melody of Azrael’s sonorous voice humming—something ethereal yet somehow vaguely familiar. It seems unfair that someone so seemingly perfect shouldalsohave such a beautiful voice, but I find myself swooning regardless. My steps slow as I take a moment to decipher the hypnotic, haunting song that only an Egyptian Flute can produce as Azrael’s voice bends and slides to harmonize with deep, silken notes. I step through the archway that leads to the expansive kitchen, and my breathing comes to a halt.
Shining through the panoramic windows, the sun casts Azrael in gilded light, illuminating the deep bronze tones of his skin—still shirtless. It even lends his dark hair a halo. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice me staring as he continues to sing while expertly de-seeding a pomegranate.
My voice is little more than a deep husk by the time I can manage to speak.
“Spend some time in Egypt?”
Azrael’s song wanes as he lifts his gaze to mine, lips quirking. “Quite a bit, actually.” Mischief dances in his gaze as he pausesand a grin parts his lips. “I may or may not have had something to do with some of their morerenownedarchitecture.”
Holy fuck.
That dazzling smile fades a moment later.
“But I haven’t gone back since Cleopatra’s untimely death, Akashrest her soul.”
My brows leap. “You knew her?”
The Adam’s apple of his throat dips as sadness shadows his gaze. “She was my closest friend and confidant for many years.”
I don’t know enough about ancient Egyptian history to recall much about her death outside of suicide. Azrael accurately interprets the question in my eyes.
