Page 78 of Craving Venom (The Venomous Beauty Trilogy #1)

CHAPTER FORTY

THE MONSTER

S he tells me to crawl, and I swear I almost drop.

My knees itch to hit the pavement. My spine bows without thinking.

There’s not a command in her voice, but a leash, and I feel it wrap around my neck.

I’d kneel. I’d live on my knees. If my legs were taken from me tomorrow, if I could never walk again, I’d drag myself by the elbows through broken glass just to get back to her.

I’d crawl until my skin peeled off and my bones clicked raw against the ground, and still beg for more. She could spit in my face, and I’d mouth “thank you.” Could take a knife to my throat and I’d tilt my head to give her better access.

I tighten my grip around her thighs and drop us both, slamming her back into the ground hard enough that dust kicks up under her hair.

My hips grind between hers. Her cunt’s already soaked I can feel it through the layers.

My fingers dig under the band of her shorts, grip the curve of her ass, pulling her deeper into the grind.

“Fucking say that again,” I growl, pressing my mask to her mouth, biting at the edge of her lip with it. “Say it while I fuck the floor with you.”

She grips my hoodie again, yanks me down so hard I swear something in my neck pops.

“When you first met me,” she pants, “you cut me a deal.”

My breath stops.

Now she’s the one with the leash.

Her thighs lock around my hips.

“Now I’m giving you one.”

Her hand slides between us, cupping me over my pants. My cock kicks, trying to rip through denim. My moan breaks inside the mask.

“Tell me what happened to the girls,” she breathes, dragging her nails over my lower stomach, down to the waistband, “and I’ll give you a piece of me.”

I could rip the world in half and still never get enough of her.

But right now, I’ll tear myself open just to taste the piece she’s offering.

I slide my fingers under the hem of her shirt, and she shudders from knowing she’s seconds from being ruined in the open.

Her nails dig into my abs when I peel the fabric up, baring inch after inch of that skin I’ve dreamed of licking raw.

“We’re in the fucking open,” she gasps as I drag the shirt over her tits, revealing them to the dark, empty hallway.

“No one’s here but me,” I growl. “And they wouldn’t fucking stop me if they were.”

“Zane…” Her thighs tremble around me. “This wasn’t part of the—”

I tug the mask up to my nose and sink my teeth into the top of her breast. “You gave me a deal. Don’t fucking crawl out of it now.”

She whimpers and her head slams back against the wall. “This isn’t smart.”

“I’m not smart when it comes to you,” I snarl, yanking her shorts down, exposing her soaked panties. “I’m just hungry.”

I grab her thighs and force them up, wide enough that her knees nearly brush her shoulders. I drag her ankles to the wall behind her head, pressing her feet flat against it. Her spine curves at an unnatural angle, bending her open for me.

She tries to shift her hips away, but I slam her legs back up and keep them spread with both hands.

She grits her teeth, but slides her hands under her ass, gripping the undersides just to hold herself steady.

Just to keep that ruined arch locked in place.

Her tits bounce slightly from the movement.

My breath fogs the heat between her thighs.

The thin cotton of her panties is soaked. The beak of my mask balances high on the bridge of my nose as I lower my mouth to her pussy. The moment my tongue drags through her slit, the sharp edge of the beak scrapes her clit through her panties, making her cry out in pain.

Her knees try to close.

I slam them back up again. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

I grip her panties with my teeth, and drag them aside. I hover over her pussy. My mouth is inches from it, and I let my spit drip onto her clit. It drips down her slit, past her hole. She shivers so hard the wall behind her vibrates.

“You want it?” I rasp, flooding my breath on her slit.

“Zane—”

“I said,” I snarl, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me, “do you fucking want it?”

She hesitates, just long enough to piss me off. I slap my palm against her clit and she jumps.

“Yes!” she chokes. “Fuck—yes—please.”

My tongue drags up her slit. I flick the tip against her clit once, twice, then suck it into my mouth so hard she arches off the floor. Her scream ricochets off the stone. Her hands shoot from under her ass and clutch my hair. Her pussy clenches, trapping my mouth.

I let the edge of my mask scrape along her inner thigh as I fuck her with my tongue, grinding my mouth against her, alternating pressure until she’s shaking so hard her ass starts to lift from the ground.

I suck her clit harder, then thrust two fingers inside her dripping cunt, curling them deep until she gasps like I’ve punched the breath out of her.

“Zane—fuck—”

I add a third finger. She sobs my name as her legs lock around me. I keep thrusting and curling my fingers while my tongue slaps against her swollen clit every now and then. She tries to wiggle away from the pressure, but I grip her hip with my free hand and pin her in place.

Slick trails down my chin as I suck her clit through each stroke, hitting that spot that makes her legs jerk.

“Come,” I growl into her pussy. “Now.”

Her scream’s still echoing in my head when her fingers twist into my hair and yank. There’s no real strength in it, but I feel like she’s branding me. I let her pull me up as my mouth trails along her inner thigh, over her stomach and across her chest.

“Now I want a piece of you,” she whispers. “What happened to Celine? What did you do to her?”

My breath stalls for a beat.

“I didn’t do anything to her.”

She flinches.

“But D.O.M did.”

Her brows draw tight. “What’s… D.O.M?”

“ Dominus Obsequium Manus ,” I say slowly, letting her adjust to the weight of it. “It means ‘The Master’s Obedient Hand.’”

Her eyes widen.

“It’s a cult. An underground pipeline that takes girls and turns them into property.

Women are handpicked. Stolen. Bribed. Sometimes they’re sold by their own families, sometimes they volunteer without knowing what they’ve signed up for.

They’re sold at private auctions. Not forever, just long enough to break them.

To train them in obedience. Rich, powerful men pay for ‘temporary ownership’ so they can do whatever the fuck they want without legal ties.

It’s advertised as discipline. But it’s rape.

It’s torture. It’s control masked as refinement. ”

I watch her eyes widen. Her pulse pounds beneath my fingers.

“They call the men ‘Masters.’ The women are given numbers, collars, contracts. Once their training time is over or once they’re broken enough to be ‘returned’ they go back to their true owner. The Dominus. The one who bought them first.”

Her nails dig into my chest.

“Celine was one of them. She was sold to Robert Gaile.”

“Is that why you killed him?”

I nod.

She swallows. “But… they ruled it out as an animal attack.”

I grin.

“Yeah. Because I made it look like one.”

I push her gently onto her back again, straddle her hips, and lean down to her ear.

“I sank the tiger claw into his throat. One hook caught his windpipe, dragging it out with a wet crunch. I twisted it deeper, tearing into his jugular. Blood sprayed so hard it painted my face, but I didn’t stop.

I wrenched it to the side, feeling the cartilage pop.

His eyes bulged while his screams turned into choking gasps as air struggled through the blood spilling from his neck.

His ribs were next. I wanted them exposed.

I wanted him to see what his lungs looked like as they failed him.

His last breath wasn’t even a scream it was a wet, rattling gasp.

By the time I stepped back, his neck and chest were just raw, pulpy meat, ribbons of muscle were hanging off jagged bones.

That’s the moment he knew that he wasn’t a man anymore.

He was just a carcass. And I wasn’t going to stop until there was nothing left to recognize. ”

Her breath catches.

“He thought he’d get away with what he did to Celine. He thought hiding behind a fake foundation and press smiles would save him.” I lick her neck, then bite, hard enough to bruise. “But I buried his legacy in blood.”

“Why make it look like an animal attack?” she whispers.

“Because I couldn’t have people knowing I was in Veridian yet.” I drag my lips up her jaw. Her pulse hammers against my tongue, daring me to bite again. I don’t.

“Why not?” she breathes.

Instead of answering, I hook my arm under her back and yank her up. She gasps, scrambling to cover her tits, but I’m already dragging her off the stone floor.

“Zane—wait—I’m not—” She tries to twist out of my grip. “I’m naked.”

I start walking again, half-dragging her across the cold floor. She stumbles behind me. We push through a side door. Into the library.

It’s past midnight. The place is a graveyard. Shelves rise like shadows, but her eyes keep darting toward the door.

“There’s no one here,” I say.

She doesn’t believe it.

“Please, just come to my dorm room.”

I shove her against the nearest shelf with one hand locking around her jaw while the other slides between her legs.

“Get on your knees.”

She hesitates as her lips part and her breath turns ragged before she finally speaks softly. “Why am I the only one naked?”

I know she’s buying time, trying to talk her way out of this. But I won’t let her. Unlike her, I’m going to honor this deal.

Her voice is shaky, but her eyes flick down, then up again. “I want you naked too.”

My grip on her jaw tightens. “Then take it off.”

Her eyes widen.

“You want me naked?” I drag my fingers down her cheek, over her lips. “Strip me.”