Page 119 of Venomous Desires

But he didn’t care. When it became too stimulating, I whimpered. “I’m sore. You’re going to rip me.”

He leaned, and my eyes snapped open when I felt his lips on my forehead.

“You’re doing so well for me, beautiful.”

Thrust. “But you’re so small, so fucking tight.”

Thrust. “I can’t stop.”

Thrust. “You’re keeping it all inside for me, aren’t you?”

That’s what he had been doing since last night. Speaking Russian while taking me. At some point, I thought it’s because he didn’t want me to know. But now that I was looking at him, groaning, I realised it was him losing control.

He pulled out suddenly, and before I could even register the loss, he flipped me over onto my stomach, roughly forcing me onto the table and I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on me again, his mouth descending on my breasts, biting down hard on my nipples, sucking and licking at the tender flesh until I was writhing beneath him.

Tears mingled with sweat as I panted at the new sensation.

But he didn’t stop there. He moved lower, his mouth trailing down my body, leaving a trail of bites and bruises in his wake. When he reached the apex of my thighs, he spread me wide, his fingers digging into my flesh as he lowered his head between my legs, his tongue lashing out to taste me.

I moaned and instantly stiffened.

His tongue plunged deep inside me, fucking me with thesame brutal intensity that had defined his every action. I could feel the tension building again, the pleasure coiling tight in my belly, threatening to break me apart.

He was forcing orgasms after orgasms, and I didn’t know how to feel about that.

And then, just as I was on the brink, he pulled away, leaving me gasping and desperate, my body aching for release. I looked up at him, my eyes wide, but he just smirked and I saw his lips glistening, realising he just—

“No release for liars.”

I watched completely undone as he fisted his cock and pumped it a few times before he came all over my stomach. I swallowed hard as he smeared his semen on his finger and flicked my hardened nipple. I winced.

He brought his glistening finger to my lips and pressed it against my mouth until I had no choice but to open it for him. “Taste it,” he growled. “Taste what I’ve marked you with.”

Chapter 45

The Prey

Iscrubbed the sweat and his heat off me. My skin was raw, but I couldn’t stop. The water was scalding, almost unbearable, but it didn’t matter. It could never be hot enough to burn away what he’d left on me. I hated how his scent still clung to me, the disgusting yet rich aroma of cigars and something that exclusively belonged to him.

The insatiable man didn’t stop. Not even when I begged, or when the room was spinning and my vision blurred at the edges from exhaustion.

I could barely keep my eyes open, but the adrenaline kept me going, the haunting realisation he wouldn’t stop even if I lost consciousness.

I trembled as I sank deeper into the tub; the water raised to my chin, but the heat did nothing to soothe the ache that settled in my bones. My fingers trembled as I rubbed the soap over my skin, scrubbing harder, desperate to erase every trace of him. But he was etched into my blood.

He was a fiend. An insatiable beast. The bastard didn’t justtake—he devoured. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know how bruised and battered I was; I simply didn’t dare to. He had forced me to beg. Beg for mercy, for release, for anything that would end the torment.

And now, here I was, alone in the bathroom, scrubbing and scrubbing, but nothing could cleanse the filth he’d left behind.

His hands, his eyes, the way he smirked when he had me pinned beneath him. My heart pounded. I hated him. God, how I hated him.

I shoved the soap away, my hand slammed against the edge of the tub, and I winced as the water sloshed over the sides. Chest heaved, and tears of frustration welled in my eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. But what choice did I have? A lamb in a den of a wolf, that’s what I was.

My nails scraped against my skin, desperate to feel something, anything other than this numbness. But I could not erase his touch; no amount of water could cleanse the taint of him. The scars he left were more than skin deep. They’d burrowed into my soul like a permanent reminder of his cruelty.

My head fell back as a tear slipped down my cheek. The water was cooling now, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. At least he wasn’t here, at least for now; he let me be. The only peace I had was in this tub, where his hands couldn’t reach me, where I could pretend, even if just for a moment, that I was clean, untouched, whole.

Suddenly, it hit me—my mother. My heart lurched. She didn’t know. She had no idea I wasn’t coming home. Panic gripped me like a vice, squeezing the remaining breath from my lungs. My hands froze mid-scrub, the washcloth slipping from my fingers into the murky water. She must be worried sick, wondering where I was, why I hadn’t called. A mother’s heart never rests easily when her child’s away. And I had just vanished.