Page 122 of Sweet Venom

He chuckled, then leaned in and kissed my nose tenderly.

“The night is not over yet.”

Then he turned and walked out of the garden with me naked in his arms, the ruined gown forgotten, the stormy night wrapping around us like a shield from the world outside the manor.

And once inside Azariel did enjoy his birthday ball but instead of dancing and eating the food that was prepared for the occasion, he ate another thing.

My pussy.

And when that wasn’t enough for him, he fucked me three more times until I was unable to think properly.

It was the best night of my life.

And for the first time, I didn’t just feel desired…I felt like I belonged.

Completely his.

Completely loved.

Completely owned.

Chapter

Thirty-One

DARK SAVIOR

Azariel

“You’re the chaos I never knew I needed—and the peace I never thought I'd deserve.” — A

It was early morning when I woke to the distinct sound of horrendous snoring.

Groggy and slightly confused, it took me a second to realize I wasn’t alone. I’ve never shared my bed with anyone. Hell, I hardly slept on it but there she was.

Poe.

She was draped behind me like a very clingy octopus, arm slung over my waist, naked chest pressed against my back, and legs tangled with mine. It was as if her body had taken one look at mine during the night and gone,“Yes. This. Forever. Mine.”

She was fucking spooning me and if that wasn’t ridiculous enough she was the big spoon.

And I couldn’t help it—I smiled. A real one. The kind that sneaks up on you and makes your chest hurt a little.

Poe’s snoring got louder and my smile widened.

Carefully, trying not to wake her, I shifted in her arms. Slow. Stealthy. Quiet.

And fuck… she was beautiful.

Her blue hair was a chaotic mess against my black silk pillows, bright strands stuck to her lower lip. Her mouth was slightly open as she snored. Loudly. Like a baby bear who’d had a really satisfying night.

She looked like a mess.

My beautiful mess.

Mine.

My gaze traveled from her face down to her neck, where soft purple bruises bloomed like scandalous evidence of the filthy shit I did to her. Those are my marks. A part of me—the possessive beast part—stirred, remembering what happened last night. The way she begged me to ruin her, the way her body bowed for me in the garden like it knew exactly who it belonged to.

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