Page 127 of Sweet Venom

He pulls down my jeans and panties fully, discarding them somewhere I can’t see, and places a big, rough hand on my sore ass. I rub my thighs together at the sensation because, apparently, my body mistakes this for pleasure.

Because pain comes with blinding pleasure with this man.

It came with an orgasm so powerful, I’m actually a bit dizzy now.

Jude’s steps are wide and controlled, his touch firm and nonnegotiable as he grips me tight.

Almost as if he never wants to let me go.

“W-what are you doing?” I whisper in the dark silence.

“Keeping up with the user manual you wrote.”

“What…?”

I don’t realize we’re in the bedroom until he throws me on the bed and I bounce off the mattress.

“The next step after the ambushing.” He grins, looking devilish. “Devouring.”

There’s a faint light here, and I can see in full detail how Jude lifts his shirt over his head.

I always knew he was muscular, big, and just packed, but actually seeing him half naked is an entirely different beast.

God, he’s beautiful.

Toned and cut, and extremely well-proportioned, as if he’s been sculpted by an artist.

But that’s not what makes me stop and stare. It’s the tattoos.

Many of them.

I’ve seen his full sleeves before, but now, they’re everywhere. His arms, chest, ribs, and abs.

I can’t stop staring at the one on his upper bicep that curls toward his chest. A shadowy black wolf with glowing red eyes, its head slightly tilted downward as if stalking its prey. The wolf’s front paw is stepping over a field of broken skulls.

Or the one in the center of his abs. A detailed black raven in mid-flight, its wings spread as if caught between rising and falling. A dagger pierces its chest, and black ink drips from the wound like poisoned blood. The dagger’s hilt has an intricate design, resembling a twisted crown or a snake curling around it.

They send a shiver through me.

A slight premonition that I shouldn’t be allowing this man to touch me, let alone have this hold over me.

But then I see a different type of tattoo on the left side of his rib cage, stretching slightly toward his back.

There’s a twisted barren tree with jagged, lifeless branches etched in deep black ink. Beneath the tree, a single closed umbrella rests against the roots.

I frown, but before I can study the rest, he pulls his jeans and boxers down his V line, revealing his hard cock. It bobs free, looking a bit purple with angry veins pulsing on the undersides and precum coating the crown.

My mouth waters because I truly love that I can turn him on this much, but a slither of apprehension goes through me.

It’s been a long time since I saw his cock in the alley, but how come it looks bigger? I’ve never had someone as big as him, and I’m kind of losing confidence. What if he doesn’t fit? What if I’m a disappointment again?—

“You look so goddamn beautiful when you’re ogling me, sweetheart.”

He’s the one who’s ogling me now. His heated eyes feel like fingers on my naked flesh.

A part of me wants to hide.

The part that shrinks beneath oversized clothes and thick glasses.