Page 33 of Craving Venom (The Venomous Beauty Trilogy #1)

Men are usually quiet. At least, that’s been my experience with the ones I’ve actually been with.

They breathe through their noses, let out the occasional grunt, and think that’s enough.

Zane isn’t like those men, he’s loud, unafraid to show his desire for me.

He closes his eyes, breathing me in, his body responding to mine in perfect sync.

And for one second, I dare to look at the door behind him.

“Keep. Your. Eyes. On. Me. Faith.”

I don’t want to.

He looks feral.

There’s something unhinged about the way his body tenses, his chest rises and falls in slow, controlled breaths like he’s barely keeping himself together. And that little vein below his eye pulses, making him look even more dangerous.

“If you look away again,” he warns, “I will punish you.”

I swallow, dragging my eyes back to his.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and a splintering crack echoes through the speakers.

The sound makes me jump.

For a second, I think it’s my shitty WiFi, until I see his free hand gripping the edge of the metal table so hard he’s actually fractured the surface.

“Fuck.” His head falls back slightly as his strokes turn frantic, desperate.

A low, deep groan rumbles from his throat, and he comes.

His chest heaves, his fingers quake, and I can see his body jerking beneath the table. If I look at him for one more minute, I’ll come just by watching. I slam the laptop shut so fast I nearly knock it off the desk.

My lungs work overtime as heat pulses under my skin.

And the worst part?

I have never been this wet in my fucking life.

I stand too fast and start walking, but I barely make it to my bed before I collapse onto the mattress. I should take a cold shower and bury myself under the covers, so I can pretend none of this happened, but the ache between my legs is unbearable.

I hesitate for a quick moment, but then my hand slips between my legs.

I don’t pull my panties down. Just the slightest press of my fingers against the soaked fabric sends a sharp pulse straight to my core.

I should not be doing this.

But I need to.

A slow, teasing stroke up my pussy makes my breath hitch, and I press harder, rubbing slow, controlled circles over my engorged clit through the fabric as my entire body shudders in response.

At the same time, my other hand glides up my stomach, pushing my shirt higher, fingers grazing over the bruises Zane left behind.

I close my eyes, letting the image take over, imagining it’s his hands on me instead, his fingers tracing my skin before curling possessively around my throat, dragging me deeper into the want I can’t seem to escape.

I push my panties aside, dragging my fingers through my slick folds, gathering my wetness before pressing two fingers inside.

A choked moan escapes my lips.

I pump my fingers slowly, curling them slightly, pressing against that spot that makes my whole body tense. My hips lift slightly off the mattress, chasing the feeling, chasing him, because I know that if he were here, he’d be wrecking me.

I rub my clit with my free hand, working myself up, faster, harder. My thighs start to shake, heat coiling in my stomach, winding tighter until my phone pings.

I barely register the fact that my fingers are still buried inside me as I grab my phone and unlock it.

Zane: Don’t forget to come with my name on your lips, sweetheart.

My whole body burns because I was about to.

I slam my phone face down onto the bed, furious at him, at myself, at this fucking ache I can’t get rid of. I shove my fingers back inside, curling them deeper, rubbing my clit harder, chasing that high. I don’t think anymore. I just feel.

The door swings open and I yank my hand away so fast I nearly punch myself in the stomach. At the same time, I lunge for the covers, yanking them up to my stomach, ignoring the fact that I was just two seconds away from coming all over my own fingers.

“Oh my God ,” Tria drawls, crossing her arms and leaning against the frame. “Tell me you were not just—”

“Get the fuck out ! ” My voice is too loud, too desperate, but my body is still wrecked from being caught mid-orgasm, and my brain is scrambling to recover.

“Babe, I knew you were pent up, but shit, Faith,” Tria laughs.

I groan, covering my face with both hands. “I hate you.”

She steps into the room, and I swear to God if she sits down—

She fucking sits down .

I let out a strangled noise, yanking the covers up higher. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I was going to ask if you wanted food, but now I feel like I need to ask who has you so fucked up that you’re touching yourself like a desperate virgin in the middle of the night.”

I die on the spot.

“Jesus Christ.” I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Please go.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been locked away all week. Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Tria.”

“Who is it?”

“No one.”

“Bullshit.”

I grit my teeth, my entire body still pulsing with leftover arousal. “It’s no one .”

Tria narrows her eyes. “I bet it’s someone bad.”

I flinch, and that is what does me in.

Her eyes widen. “ Holy shit. ” She gasps, hand flying to her chest. “Is it some fucked-up ex? Oh my God, is it Trevor? Did you finally let loose and—”

I groan and throw a pillow at her, but she dodges it with a laugh.

“I hate you.” I flop back onto the bed, my body still aching in a way that makes me want to scream.

“If you don’t tell me, I will go ask Trevor,” she threatens.

“It is so not Trevor.”

Her brows lift. “So, it is someone.”

I lift my head just enough to glare at her. “It’s complicated.”

Tria’s grin stretches wider. “Classic love-to-hate.”

I scoff. “More like tolerate-to-despise.”

She lets out a dramatic sigh. “God, you’re so boring. Keep the nudes to yourself, though. That sextortion shit is real.”

I snort, rolling onto my back. “Trust me, there are no nudes happening here.”

She doesn’t quite believe me but doesn’t press. Which is good because I refuse to admit that I was literally just watching Zane jerk off in prison.

Speaking of.

I reach for my phone, still facedown on the bed, my fingers hovering for a second before I flip it over. Zane’s message stares back at me.

I don’t know why I do it, but my body is still a wreck, and the memory of his voice is still thick in my mind. I type out a response before I can talk myself out of it.

Then, with an exhausted sigh, I open my study group chat, scrolling through unread messages. My brows pull together when I see the latest update.

Eleanor: Hey guys, canceling today. Back home for a bit.

I frown. “Huh.”

Tria looks up from her phone. “What?”

“Eleanor canceled study session. She went home.”

Tria shrugs. “So?”

I tap my screen absently. “It’s just… random.”

Tria gives me a look. “Faith, people do go home sometimes.”

“Yeah, but Celine also went back home last week.”

Tria pauses, brows furrowing slightly. “Huh.”

I glance up at her. “Why is everyone going home when summer break is still four months away?”

She considers that for a second before shaking her head. “Maybe they just need a break.”

“Maybe.”

But something about it sits wrong.

I push the thought away, making a mental note to check in on Eleanor later.

For now, I’ve got bigger problems.