Page 80 of Craving Venom (The Venomous Beauty Trilogy #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

THE BEAUTY

I lower myself onto his tip, and his growl evaporates between us.

His cock stretches me instantly, it’s just the head, but I still feel it in my spine. Heat coils in my gut. My hands brace on his chest as my thighs tremble around the intrusion, begging for more.

I feel so fucking full, and I’m barely even in control anymore.

Zane growls and his hands dig to my hips like he’s seconds from flipping me over. His hips jerk up, trying to bury himself, but I lift to deny him again.

“Faith.” He grits his teeth and fists my hair so hard I let out a shriek. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not playing,” I lie, feeling the rush of his blood beneath my fingertips.

But I am playing.

Because I need him distracted. I need to make him lose himself.

He just confessed to killing Brian. To skinning Derick alive. To planning to burn an entire circle of monsters to the ground, and part of me believes they deserve it. But another part of me?

Another part is screaming hide .

Because if he can do all that and still touch me like this…

What happens when he snaps and I’m the one standing in front of him?

I grind against him, wrapping another inch of his cock.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Take all of me.”

I lean down like I’m going to kiss him. “I can’t.”

And then I yank myself off his cock, ignoring the burn as he slips free, and scramble backward off his lap.

I grab his hoodie—the one crumpled near the shelves—pull it over my head, not caring that it’s inside out, too big, still warm with his heat. My legs are shaking, pussy aching from being stretched and denied, but I run.

I don’t even make it out of the door.

His hand knots in my hair and yanks me back so fast my feet leave the floor. I gasp as the air catches in my throat and my back crashes into his chest. His breath is hot against my ear, but it’s his words that freeze my blood.

“You have ten seconds.”

Ten seconds?

Ten seconds for what?

The thought barely has time to finish in my head before he growls the answer against my skin.

“ Hide .”

Goosebumps skitter down my arms, my thighs, my spine because the way he says it, like he’s giving me a head start in a hunting ground built just for me… I know he means it.

Then he says the part that makes my knees weaken.

“If I hunt you,” he snarls, dragging his lips along my jaw, “I prey on you.”

He lets go.

I stumble forward, catching myself on trembling legs.

“One!”

His roar shakes the shelves behind me, but I’m already bolting past the shelves. My juices are dripping down my thighs as I sprint through the library. My heart’s beating so loud I can barely hear anything else.

I shove the door open and nearly slip on the floor of the hallway, catching myself just in time. My fingers slam the elevator button.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

The elevator dings.

I slip inside and slam the button for the dorm rooftop.

If I can get up there, someone will see me. Someone has to be out there. I’ll scream. I’ll jump the railing if I have to. There’s no way he’d risk being caught.

The doors begin to close.

I glance back, but there’s no sign of Zane.

I peek out again.

Still nothing.

My chest seizes. He didn’t follow.

Why didn’t he follow?

The doors inch closer to closing, but I shove my hand between them, reopening them, just in case.

Still nothing.

I do it again.

And again.

Where the fuck is he?

Why isn’t he chasing me?

Why does that terrify me more?

Stop it, Faith. It’s almost as if you want him to chase you.

No, I don’t.

Then just as the doors begin to close again, I hear him count.

“Two.”

I slap the door close button again and again even though it’s already rising.

“Three.”

My stomach flips.

“Four…”

The doors slide shut, and I don’t wait to hear what comes after that.

The elevator jerks upward. I sag against the wall. Zane’s hoodie hangs low, sticking to my chest where sweat and cum have dried against my skin. My thighs are sticky, my pussy still pulsing like it’s waiting for him to come back and finish what we started.

I press my legs together.

No.

No, I can’t think like that. He killed people. Skinned them. Staked them open like animals. He’s dangerous. He’s fucking insane.

But so am I because I liked the way his cock stretched me. The way he let me be on top… until he didn’t.

The elevator jerks to a stop.

The doors slide open with a hollow chime.

I step out into silence.

The rooftop’s cold. The wind hits my bare thighs, slicing through the oversized hoodie that still clings to my body. My feet slap against the concrete, and I walk straight to the edge of the parapet wall. My chest presses against it as I peer over.

Everything below is swallowed in shadow. There’s no one out. No movement. No headlights, no footsteps, not even the distant hum of life. Just silence and the thick, hollow dark of a city holding its breath.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I move my eyes, looking toward the rest of campus. There are lights in the windows, sure, but there’s not a single soul in sight. Not a single sound.

Until I hear footsteps.

The steps are not fast. Not urgent, but they’re measured.

“Six.”

I whip around.

He’s not even on the rooftop yet.

And somehow, that’s worse.

I stumble back, grabbing the edge of the parapet wall behind me. My breath snags. Every inch of my skin prickles.

“Seven.”

I take a step back. Then another. I scan the rooftop and there’s barely anywhere to go. There’s nothing but scattered utility boxes, an old HVAC unit humming in the corner, and a few maintenance crates near the far side.

My eyes dart to the left, is that some kind of rooftop access panel? Even if it is I’m pretty sure it’s locked tight with rusted hinges. The stairwell door I came through, no fucking way I’m going back there.

“Eight.”

Then I see a shadow near the duct system. A low crawlspace between two vent stacks, maybe three feet high. It’s not much, but it’s something.

“Nine.”

My feet slap against the ground as I move, sticking close to the walls. I duck low and slide behind the vents, scraping my knees raw on the concrete as I force myself into the narrow gap.

I curl up, pulling my knees tight to my chest, and slap a hand over my mouth to muffle the panting. My other hand presses flat against the cool vent surface like that’ll somehow protect me from the storm I invited in.

Because Zane doesn’t chase.

He hunts.

And I just gave him a reason to enjoy it.

You want him to find you.

No. I don’t.

You do.

His steps stop, the heavy silence stretching so long I think he’s gone.

“Ready or not…”

The words echo off the rooftop.

“…here I come.”

I hear the rooftop door open.

He’s here.

I hear the slow drag of his steps. The wind shifts. His scent hits me. The same scent soaked into the hoodie I’m still wearing. My breath stutters. My thighs press tighter together, trying to feel safe because even after everything I’m still turned on.

His steps stop.

The silence is pressing against my skin. I wait for the sound of breath, the scrape of a boot, anything. But there’s nothing. No shift in the wind. No shadow stretching toward me. Just dead quiet.

I swallow hard and duck my head out just a little farther, glancing to the left, then the right. The rooftop looks empty.

He’s gone.

A shaky, relieved breath leaves my body—

“Caught you.”

The words slither into my ear. They’re hot, dark, and gleeful.

I jerk violently, scrambling backward, but Zane’s already towering over me. I scramble to my feet and spin as panic tears through me.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” I say backing up.

But he’s moving forward.

I trip over a vent pipe, catch myself on a crate. My hands slap against cold stone. I glance behind me, and I am at the edge.

My back hits the parapet wall, but Zane keeps coming. His chest rises and falls in slow, steady drags. The wind rips between us, tangling in the hem of the hoodie hanging off my thighs.

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Why?” He tilts his head. “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

I climb onto the base of the parapet just to get away, it’s not like I’d actually jump. My toes grip the stone as the wind lashes at me.

“Don’t,” I repeat. “I’ll fall.”

He steps closer.

“I know.”

One more step and my heel slips.

I yelp, but before I can fall his hands snap around my waist.

“But you’re falling in love with me.” He slams into me in the same second.

I scream because it’s too much, too sudden, too deep.

His cock stretches me all over again like he was never inside me before.

My back bows so hard it arches over empty air.

If it weren’t for Zane holding me, I would’ve fallen seven stories.

I dig my nails into his arm, hard enough to slice skin, and I feel his blood bloom beneath my fingertips.

He thrusts again, harder, deeper, driven by the need to be inside me, to turn the rooftop into a launch point and fuck me straight into the clouds.

He shifts his grip to my ass, holding me up, forcing me to take every inch. My legs dangle. My toes barely brush the edge of the wall.

If he lets go—I die.

If he stops—I might beg him to kill me.

The hoodie bunches around my waist, riding up with every thrust as his hips grind into mine. Cold air licks the skin above my ass, but it’s his heat that devours me.

My eyes fly open when his hand grips my throat.

The breath punches out of me, not just from the pressure, but from the reality. His cock is buried inside me, his hand is choking me, and my body is dangling over death. I tip my head back and stare into the void

My stomach lurches.

And then I remember the painting.

I realize now that I’m the girl on that cliff.

Perched at the edge of something sharp and irreversible, wrapped in something too delicate to survive it.

My body isn’t draped in white silk, it’s in Zane’s hoodie, oversized and soaked in sweat and come, but it clings just the same.

And like her, I don’t move. Not because I’m safe. But because I can’t.