Page 78 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
To gods?
I don’t see any offerings or anything else on these shelves that would indicate it as a shrine.
A small relief.
I make a mental note to ask him about these effigies.
Turning around, I examine his neatly made bed and its dark coverings, along with his wardrobe across the room. Both are in a ghastly state of disarray. There are no fewer thanthreeshirts on the ground, a worn undergarment with a hole in the crotch, and based upon the half-dozen rogue socks peppering the room, one might think he’d mistaken them for decor.
This simply won’t do.
Truly, how am I supposed to prepare myself to scent-mark a single thing in this squalor?
Frustration burns through me as I snatch up all of his clothing when an irrepressible urge comes over me, forcing me to pause. Standing in the middle of his room with what could easily be confused with detritus bundled in my arms, his mouthwatering scent reaches my nose.
Succumbing to my baser urges, I bury my face in his dirty clothing, inhaling deeply. My eyes roll in the back of my head as his scent permeates every molecule of my body. Arousal strikes a match in my core, burning a wick that rises up my spine and bursts with a foreign, fiery, weighty sensation in my chest.
The guttural moan of need that escapes is muffled by the clothing my face is buried in.
“Fuuuuuuucccckkk.”
Oh my fucking gods.
I haven’t even met this male, and already, I am undone.
Fear trickles through me at the realization, but this dizzying desire quickly smothers it.Willingaway my clothing—something I can scarcely manage in the moment—and with my face still buried, I march over to his side of the bed and slide under the duvet as I glamour away my wings, and my tail teases the inside of my thighs.
His scent—honey, burning pine, and musk—consumes me.
With his clothes resting on my face, my hands skate over my nude form, squeezing my breasts and teasing my nipples. Onehand remains as the other greedily reaches for the wet mess of my arousal. My core clenches around my spaded tail, pumping in and out whilst imagining it’s Levi’s impressive, tattooed cock.
When I can deny myself no longer, my fingers slide to my clit, fervently circling the aching bud.
In my mind, Levi’s roughly shaven face is scraping against my tender flesh as he kisses and licks the column of my throat before sinking his teeth in to mark me as his. With deep, steady strokes, his long, thick cock thrusts?—
Oh, fuck, I’m cumming already—and oh, dear gods, I’m squirting.
My orgasm isn’t merely crashing through me—it’s a heavy, all-consuming, tingling wave of bliss that steals the very breath from my lungs on his moaned name.
“Levi.”
With my back arched off the bed, my pussy spasms for long, heart-pounding moments as this tether between us throbs with demand. Fluid even gushes from me, and when my climax finally dissipates, I lie there shell-shocked, staring up at the ceiling with his dirty clothes still draped on my face.
The male isn’t even here, and somehow, he has still managed to give me the best orgasm of my entire fucking life.
What. In. The. Hellish. Fuck.
No male has ever made me squirt before.
Akash almighty.
Intellectually, I knew thissoulboundthing was intense, but this...
I’m officially fucking terrified.
My mother died of a broken heart.
When a syrith’s song doesn’t work on their fated mate, it’s as if their spirit, after a time of so much heartbreak, decides to flee the body and this realm. The coroner deduced, when he could find no other cause of death and learned that my mother hadbeen living separate from hersoulbound,that her will to live must have waned in his absence.
