Page 98 of Sweet Venom

I traced the sharp line of his jaw, the tattoo over his cheek, the curve of his cheekbone, the edge of his red lips. The sensation of his face under my fingers—barely there, yetso intimate—sent a shiver through me, a tremor that ran deep within my soul.

Azariel’s breath hitched, a sharp intake of air, and he stepped back, his expression faltering.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, edged with something I couldn’t place, a blend of surprise and confusion that made my heart race even faster.

I didn’t answer immediately. I only looked up at him, my eyes locking onto his, feeling the weight of the moment settled between us like a deep, undeniable truth.

“I’m saving your look into my memory,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“Why?”

“I need to remember this moment. This... this you. This Azariel. My not so heartless prince.”

He froze and his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything went still.

He looked surprised as if he wasn’t expecting the words that just fell from my lips. He looked impossibly adorable if you could call a six feet three man covered in ink and resembling death itself adorable. I would.

Adorable and irresistible.

I got the crazy impulse to kiss him but before I could take another breath, Azariel moved. Fast.

In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between us, his strong hand reaching up to grip the back of my neck, his touch possessive, powerful. His fingers dug into the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck, and his other hand cupped my face with a force that stole the breath from my lungs.

His eyes locked onto mine with a possessiveness that made me tremble with the need to kiss him. I saw something moving in them. It was as if all those icy walls he had built around himself had finally come crashing down, and the man standingbefore me was no longer just Azariel, the cold hearted, arrogant man I had come to loathe.

I felt his breath hot on my face and a second later his lips crashed onto mine.

The kiss wasn’t soft, no. It was hungry, as though every ounce of emotion we had ever buried within us was being poured into that single, desperate touch. His lips felt cold, but somehow they set my skin on fire, igniting something deep inside me that I had never felt before. It wasn’t just a kiss—it felt like he was claiming me. With the kiss I could feel the undeniable connection between us that bound our souls together in a way that words could never explain.

I wrote for a living and yet I sucked at them when it came to him. This kiss said it all, though. I hope he felt it.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The world around us disappeared, and all I knew was him. The taste of him. The feel of him. The pounding of our hearts, crashing against each other in perfect sync.

When he finally pulled away, his breath came in ragged, his chest rising and falling beneath the dark fabric of his clothes. His eyes locked onto mine, heated and searching, like he couldn’t believe what just happened between us— as if he couldn’t believe it was real also.

“Do you understand now? Do you see it?” he asked, his voice rough, almost desperate. Every word bled out of his mouth with the rawness he usually kept hidden behind cruelty and silence.

I nodded, lips still trembling, not from the cold but from the intensity of his kiss.I understood.

I understood everything.

But most of all, I understood that in that moment with that kiss, he had given me something no one else ever could— his heart.

His truth.

His fire.

His soul.

All I ever wanted… my most beautiful dream.

“I do.” I whispered, a soft smile curving my lips. “I see you, Azariel. You’ve always been all I ever saw.”

His hand tightened around the back of my neck—not in a way that hurt, but in a way that made me feelanchored, like he was afraid I’d slip away. Like he couldn’t bear to let me go.

“About fucking time, little fox,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against mine.

About fucking time is right.

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