Page 105 of Darling Venom
“There. Check me for tumors.” I dropped my phone beside me, crossing my arms over my chest.
Tate stared at me intensely. So intensely, I knew he knew what I was trying to do here.
He glanced down to his phone, which lit up with the new email, then looked back at me. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t break your hymen this way.”
“That’s patronizing. Don’t I get to choose how to lose my virginity?”
“Break your hymen,” he corrected. “I wouldn’t be taking your virginity; I’d be breaking your hymen.”
My lips parted.
If anything, his words made me wetter. I felt like I’d just been told the special of the day at a three-Michelin-star restaurant and that I needed to beg in order to eat it.
I will if I have to, I decided.
It scared me how much I wanted this.
Him.
Tate blew out a breath, looking torn. “You’ll regret it.”
“More patronizing. Nice.” I was on a roll now.
He finally snapped, his eyes lit with anger, losing his control and his professionalism. “You realize I’m about to break your hymen on the exam table, and that I won’t fucking call you the next day or send you flowers?”
I pulled at my leg. Pushed my glasses up my nose. Probably a boatload of other compulsive bad habits he brought out of me.
He tracked my hand’s assault on my thigh.
I scooted my butt in his direction even farther, all but offering myself up on a platter for him. “I do. And while I’m here, I really want to rule out any chance I have cancer. Do what you gotta do.”
“Charlie…”
“Do it.”
Tate’s eyes were still on mine as he spread me with his gloved hands again, sliding his index finger inside me.
Slow.
Too slow.
I clenched around him on instinct. My hands curled into fists, squeezing as I bit back a groan. It felt so good, I wouldn’t mind dying on this exam table.
“This okay?”
“Yeah,” I croaked, closing my eyes, my knees shaking. “It’s fine.”
He slid another finger inside me. I shuddered all over, muscles tightening. I felt the barrier he’d been trying not to poke blocking him from sliding farther, but my eyes were shut.
I heard Tate take a breath.
“Breathe slow and deep into your abdomen.”
He muttered something after. Under his breath. Too low to make out.
