Page 102 of Craving Venom

I hate him, but my pussy is aching.

“You can’t just jerk off in the middle of a prison!”

His head lolls backward, disappearing behind the chair. “Why not?”

I gape at him. “Because someone could walk in—”

His hand slows, dragging up his length with infuriating control. “And?”

“And you’d get caught, you lunatic!”

He brings his head up with a shuddered breath. “You think I care?”

“Fine. Get caught. You’ll look good in handcuffs.”

“Would I?” His hand keeps moving. “Or do you just want to see me restrained?”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

The muscles in his forearm flex again as he strokes himself. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted just enough for me to imagine what he’d sound like if he let go completely, if he growled my name, if he moaned like I made him come undone.

A shiver rolls down my spine.

He fucking sees it.

His smirk turns into something lethal. “I’d let you.”

I swallow hard. “Let me what?”

“Use me,” he says smoothly, tilting his head. “If that’s what youwanted. You could ride me, sweetheart. Get yourself offhowever you needed. Fuck me slow, drag it out—” His voice deepens, his hand moving faster now. “Or fuck me hard, until I’m growling into your neck, begging you to keep going.”

The second the words leave his mouth, X-rated images flash through my mind so vividly they might as well be real. I dig the nails of my foot into my leg so hard I should probably be bleeding. It’s the only thing keeping me from pressing my thighs together even tighter, from giving away just how badly my pussy aches.

“But when I get free?”

His chest rises and falls with heavy controlled breaths, but his moans aren’t silent. They come out in rough, uneven sounds, every single one dragging through my laptop speakers like a fucking sin.

“I’lldestroyyou,” he rasps growling my name.

Fuck.

He does it again, breathing it out like he can taste me, like he’s imagining his name torn from my lips the same way I’m picturing his.

Then he groans it.

I never thought a man could sound this sexy.

Men are usually quiet. At least, that’s been my experience with the ones I’ve actually been with. They breathe through their noses, let out the occasional grunt, and think that’s enough. Zane isn’t like those men, he’s loud, unafraid to show his desire for me. He closes his eyes, breathing me in, his body responding to mine in perfect sync.

And for one second, I dare to look at the door behind him.

“Keep. Your. Eyes. On. Me. Faith.”

I don’t want to.

He looks feral.

There’s something unhinged about the way his body tenses, his chest rises and falls in slow, controlled breaths like he’sbarely

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