Page 81 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
My cabin is relatively small, but the ceilings are high. The soothing whir of the ceiling fan above is the only sound my straining ears can pick up on. The bedroom door is wide open, and even from down the hall, I can see that someone has paid me a visit.
As I step inside, my eyes dart around in disbelief. I peek my head into my walk-in closet and bathroom, which only proves to deepen my confusion.
Who the fuck breaks into someone’s house just to clean it?
My attention leaps to my shelves of precious figurines that I’ve collected over the years. I heave a sigh of relief that each one appears to be untouched, if not less dusty.
Lowering my gun, my eyes land on a piece of loose-leaf paper and a small black bundle sitting on my pillow.
Closing the distance, I swipe the note off my bed.
It takes a lot to truly shock me.
Seeing a portal open up in the fabric of reality—even that didn’t inspire shock.Awe,certainly. The dead rabbit hanging at my door—unease? Absolutely. Butshock?
I can’t remember the last time the realization or discovery of something jolted through me like a bolt of lightning and left me well and truly reeling.
But this?
Thisinspires a sensation I’ve never felt before, but I can only describe it as being pierced through the heart with Cupid’s arrow.
My eyes lift from Violette’s note to the little lacy mound of black that can only be a pair of panties waiting for me on my pillow.
An excited beat drums in my chest.
Please be fucking dirty.
As my hand closes around them and is met with moisture, relief and victory at having my wish granted wash over me. The moment I palm them against my nose and inhale deeply, my eyes slip shut.
Arousal cascades through me at the subtle, sweet musk of her pussy.
Fuck, yes.
My cock instantly swells and hardens, demanding to be liberated from its denim cage.
Still holding her wet panties to my nose, I use one hand to undo my belt and jeans. My fist wraps around my aching length, pulls it free from my boxers, and gives it a firm, slow stroke that makes me groan into Violette’s lace.
Half lost in her scent, I peel back the covers of my neatly made bed to find the large ring of a half-dried wet spot on my bed.
Fuck.
Me.
This woman is deranged.
And I fucking love it.
Even if there is a sputtering flame of panic in my chest.
She’s nothing to you, and all you have to do is keep it that way. Fuck her senseless, and send her on her way.
Bending low, I bury my face in the wet spot on my fitted sheet and take another deep inhale, filling my lungs withher.
Don’t wash the sheets.
Woman, you couldn’t fucking pay me to wash these sheets now.
Reaching for the lube in my drawer, another surprise hits me as I stare at its now half-empty interior.
