Page 199 of Darling Venom
She groaned into me, riding my hand.
I was pissed off, and hurt, and not thinking clearly, but I needed more, too.
We kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
I dug my palm against her clit and skimmed her jaw with my teeth. She scratched the nape of my neck, toying with the hair there.
“Inside me,” she gasped, conquering my demons as her own, chanting over and over again like her need would exorcise them. “I want you inside me.”
She tasted of rainwater and coffee and pure, feral need.
I curled my fingers, hitting exactly where I wanted to. My thumb brushed her clit. She cried out and gripped my shoulders.
Her nails dug in deep.
Scratched me.
Claimed me as hers.
And she fell apart, coming around me.
“So perfect,” I whispered against her lips.
My teeth grazed the sensitive skin, nipping it.
Her head fell to my shoulder, tongue slipping out to sample my neck. A car whizzed past us, honking. Someone whooped and catcalled through its window.
We tore apart.
Her chest rose and fell with her breaths. Her nipples jutted out of her drenched dress. I brought my finger to her lower lip, parting it from its neighbor. It glazed with her wetness before the rain washed it away.
“Beautiful.”
She smiled, dazed and still on a high. “Sandalwood, bonfire, citrus… sex.”
“Sugar, cookies, cypress.”
“I drank coffee,” she pointed out.
“I changed my body wash.”
“Liar.”
I did lie.
I kept everything exactly the same as the last time we kissed.
Too afraid to change a thing.
Hornily deserved to become an official word, because it described my kiss with Tate Marchetti perfectly. I considered submitting a request to Webster’s and pulled the site up, only to realize it already existed.
Reagan’s voice pierced the veil of silence through a broadcast on the intercom. A new (and unwelcome) addition to the office. She sought a way to talk to us without leaving her young unattended.
As a result, our ears were collectively punished.
“Charlotte!” She still hadn’t gotten the memo that the intercom negated her need to yell. “I need you in here! Please!”
I shot out of my chair, rushing to her before she prolonged the torture-by-intercom. Nothing good came out of that thing.
