Page 44 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
The bottom of Lucen’s fist slams against the wall beside my head, making me jolt. “Stop. Lying.”
The backs of my eyes sting as a protest wobbles on the edge of my lips, but fear has me swallowing it back.
Lucen’s shoulders sink as he drops his mouth to within an inch of my lips. “I’m going to miss this, sweetling.”
His mouth moves against mine. My lips are paralyzed by fear and disgust surging up my throat.
When I don’t kiss him back, Lucen’s hand, bracing him against the wall, moves to grip my jaw as he grinds out the words, “Kiss me.”
The threat behind the words is clear.
I force my mouth to move against his, but the movement is wooden. Lucen growls in frustration, roughly shoving his hand between my legs. The whimper that escapes me is not one of pleasure.
“Come on, Raia. Don’t tell me he’s ruined you for me.”
“Please, stop.”
Lucen draws back. “Oh no. That won’t do. When you’re with my clients, you’re going to have to put on a show. Fake it if you have to. Demonstrate for me, sweetling.”
Akash almighty, this can’t be real.
Lucen’s hand between my thighs tugs at my underwear, and I attempt to shove him off of me. I’d have more luck shoving a stone wall. My efforts to thwart him only make him more aggressive. When his fingers shove inside me, a scream tears from my throat, and my claws rake down his face.
Lucen rears back in shock as blood trickles from his face onto his bare chest. Still gripping his cane, he brings his free hand to the wound. Spits blood onto the marble floor.
Ihearthe cracking of the reed cane before my mind can even register white-hot pain lancing my face.
Blood trickles from my cheek.
My chest heaves. Before I can even move, Lucen’s cane hits my bare thigh.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Until my knees are buckling and I’m on the floor.
The cracking of the cane against my thighs, wings, tail, and back is an endless striking of lightning upon my flesh. My sobs turn silent, and I can barely breathe.
Eventually, the cane stops.
The only sound in the room is the occasional gasping breath in between my silent, spasming sobs.
Minutes tick by as I lie curled in a shivering ball of fiery pain on the marble floor. My mind can scarcely grasp anythingbutpain.
Eventually, my weeping wanes as my flesh begins to heal. Soon, gentle hands curl beneath my body and lift me against a broad, warm, once familiar and beloved chest. I cry out in agony as the touch shoots bolts of searing anguish across my tender flesh.
“Shhhh, sweetling. I’ll make it better.”
One might imagine that I would not welcome Lucen’s touch, but after so much pain, the tenderness brings relief. It is a reminder of the male I fell in love with—the male that I am still in love with, but who does not exist. Yet another person I have to mourn. And in this fragile state, I welcome the illusion because it is the only thing I have left in this world that doesn’t usher in more pain.
It doesn’t matter that, thanks to my magic, my wounds are swift to heal. My battered heart needs this reprieve. I’m not ready to face the world. To return to Thessaly’s home, alone, and live with a ghost that forces me to face my reality. So for tonight, I’m willing to pretend, to allow myself this moment of weakness and comfort.
Tomorrow, I will be strong.
Lucen carries me into his bathing chamber. The bathtub is already running, steam curling in invitation.
