Page 261 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
Ionce found the idea of achieving orgasm at the same time to be romantic. Something to strive for even. However, not in the middle of a crowded tavern as I’m shoveling the first bite of stew into my mouth. Distantly, beneath the bone-trembling force of my climax and what I can only describe as an explosion in my chest, and the din of raucous noise surrounding us, I hear Azrael’s garbled groan as though he too is achieving orgasm.
I cast a shield around us to prevent any on-lookers from witnessing me, and presumably Azrael, from soiling ourselves.
With cum.
My eyes are squeezed shut from the force of this entirely misplaced and unexpected euphoria but the light glowing from beyond my eyelids has me peeking them open to observe a radiant light glowing from our chests.
Even when this intrusion passes, my entire body is humming with the lingering effects.
Azrael, still glamoured to have this ridiculous mop of blonde hair, grips the table as his chest heaves.
“What. In the. Sacred. Fuck.”
My voice is muffled beneath the buzzing in my ears.
I can feel in the root of my soul what caused this catastrophe, and I’m not certain how I feel about it. Am not certain I’m even willing to acknowledge it.
So I ask the next most important question.
“Did you just cum in your pants?”
Azrael’s jaw works.
“I believe the word explode might be more apt, but yes. Irreparably. The only way I’ll ever be able to fully cleanse them of my ejaculate is by incineration.”
After willing away theevidence of our disgrace, Azrael and I eat our stew in shameful and perturbed silence. It isn’t until we pay and get up to leave that he finally speaks. The guilt on his face pains me. As if he needs to hear the words even more than I do.
“I need you to know I wouldn’t have taken such a liberty without speaking to you first..."
Gradually, I nod. “I know.”
Though they are the same person, the differences between them are somehow palpable.
Even within the first moment of meeting Lazarus, there was something different about him. Perhaps what they say about too much power corrupting the soul is true. There is something so much softer and sweeter about Azrael.
Dare I say, I prefer him this way.
Azrael’s amber eyes frantically pingpong between each of my eyes as if searching for proof beyond my words that I believe him.
So I lean in and press my lips to his. “And even if you did, I would be overjoyed for Violette and I to be soulbound to you.”
His Adam’s apple dips as though working back a swell of emotion. “I would give almost anything for it... but not at the expense of your trust.”
Leaning back in, I nip at his throat, scraping my fangs against the delicate flesh.
“I trust you, soulbound.”
It’s just this interloper I don’t trust.
Saidinterloper has a protective cocoon of his magic surrounding him and Violette on the bed. I shut the door behind Azrael and push my magic against it. The cocoon dissipates to reveal Lazarus protectively curled around Violette, who is sound asleep. I will a barrier around her head so she remains undisturbed before speaking.
“You could have asked.”
Lazarus arches a haughty brow that makes me want to punch him in the fucking face.
“I merely enhanced what was already there.”
My brows knit together as my anger begins to simmer—mostly because I know it's true. Whether or not it’s from the vow they made, and the mark it left, for a time, or perhaps even from before, we have no way of knowing. But thanks to Azrael opening his mind and memories to me, I know that the former wasn’t intentional, and that the latter is entirely probable. From the moment Violette entered the room of that restaurant more thana decade ago, it was as if some cord between them had flared to life.
