Page 97 of Venomous Desires

“Drop your hands.” My voice dropped an octave. Today I was in no mood for playing games. I had enough shit to deal with. “Drop your fucking hands, Fenochka, if you don’t want me to chop them off.”

The threat worked. She limply dropped her hands to her sides, her head lowered and the dark tresses hid her face—another thing I hated.

I grabbed my little bird by the elbow and pulled her up. She gasped and tried to fight the nail and hook, but one look from me and she stilled. Her defiance melted into submission as her breath quickened.

A soft moan escaped her lips, and a surge of rage coursed through me. I wanted to reach out and rip that sound from Kyle’s memory, to claw it from his mind. No one should hear her like this but me.

I shouldn’t care—I ordered him to follow her, to watch her every move—but something had twisted inside me. It could have been the moment I first saw her, the defiance in her eyes when she refused me, or the electric thrill when I tasted her for the first time.

Her lips now, a faint pink, no longer red, bruised, or bleeding, infuriated me. It pulled me back to that night when I wanted to consume her, to see her delicate skin bloom with crimson, to watch her bleed for me.

She was mine, more than any documents or deals. My little bird was mine to ruin, to torment, to possess.

“Track that bastard,” I said in Russian, keeping my voice low.

“Who, sir?” My jaw ticked. The bastard was playing. I didn’t bother to look at his annoying face, and he probably bet my warning as he continued. “On it.”

She thrashed in my hold again.

“Are you… going to force me?” Her eyes were blurry, tears I assumed, and her voice shaky. My hand on her sweater twitched, and the thought amused me.

I raised a brow. “I don’t know. Should I?”

“You do realise I would never sleep with you willingly.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Her disobedience was delicious, a flicker of resistance that only made the game more enticing. “Why- “

I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. It was always the same: the futile struggle, the pleas for mercy. Pathetic. As if tears and begging would magically change the situation. Her emotions meant nothing to me, just tools to be manipulated. Her fear, heranger, her pain—they were all part of the entertainment. She was just another piece on the board, another toy to be broken.

And I, the master of this game, revelled in the control I held over her.

I brushed a tear from her cheek, enjoying the feel of her delicate flesh under my skin. The dark thoughts of being her and taking her took over. But I tucked them away.

“You should relax. If you’re good, things might not have to get...unpleasant.” Bloody.

The scent of hers and something delicious, and I took a deep breath. “But if you keep resisting, I have a lot of creative ways to break you.”

Starting with killing Ivan fucking Morozov. She seemed to care for him, and it was getting on my nerves.

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in.

There was a delicious, primal magic in her fear; it acted like a fine spice, sharpening her every sensation and making her far more...responsive. I could practically smell the heady, sweet musk of her trepidation, an intoxicating scent that made my blood roar in my veins.

Her eyes widened.

She clung to her pride. She thought she was strong, but everyone has a breaking point, a moment where the tension snaps and the soul simply gives in. And as her gaze locked with mine, I knew exactly where hers lay. Submission or suffering? It didn’t matter to me. Either way, by the time I was finished, she would be mine.

“Do you think I bluff, Ptichka?” And she quickly shook her head, the damn hair moving with the movement. It took all my self-control to not fist them and slam her against the wall and fuck the resilience out of her. Instead, I just tucked them behind her ear.

Two years of keeping my desires at bay, here she came,destroying everything.

“You seem to get the wrong idea here. I am giving you time because that works in my favour, but I can change it anytime,” I smiled, and her eyes widened. “You defy, I’ll become a monster.”

“Now, take it off before I do it for you.” My voice was harsh despite trying to keep myself calm. I never lose calm. Yet today, I felt out of control.

She hesitated, her hands trembling as they reached for the hem of her sweater. Her movements were slow and hesitant, every inch of fabric she lifted revealing more of her delicious, vulnerable skin. The sight fuelled the fire within me. Fuck.