Page 118 of Craving Venom

I scoff. “What, ‘no’? Fuck off, Zane. Everyone hears ‘no’.”

“Not me.” His smirk deepens. “How will I ever know what it really means if no one’s ever said it to me?”

“How about this?” I say through clenched teeth. “No. No, you psycho. No, I don’t want to see you. No, I don’t want you near me. No, I don’t give a fuck about whatever sick little game you think you’re playing. NO.”

“Interesting,” he murmurs. “You say it like you mean it.”

“Idomean it,” I snap.

Zane steps closer, his presence pressing against me like a physical force. “Then why,” he breathes, “do you look like you want to hit me again?”

He steps in, backing me against the lockers before I even register that I’m moving. The cold metal presses against my spine, but all I feel is his body heat, his scent, the slow, deliberate way he leans in, cutting off the air in the space around me. His eyes lock onto mine, pinning me harder than his hands ever could. Then he lifts his arms and presses both hands against the lockers on either side of my head, caging me in completely. The metal rattles under his palms, a subtle reminder of just how trapped I am.

My lashes flutter as I try to keep my gaze steady, but it’s useless. My ribs are expanding in shallow little movements that do nothing to pull in air. My fingers curl slightly against the locker, forcing myself not to fidget.

“Stop looking at me with those eyes.”

“What eyes?” I dare but my fingers tremble where they grip the edges of the locker behind me.

“The eyes that are begging me to fuck you.”

I don’t respond.

I can’t.

Because his lips are too close. If I say something, if I so much as part my lips, I might do something stupid. Like kiss him.

His lips barely ghost over mine. “I could fuck you senseless in the middle of the day,” he murmurs, each word sinking under my skin like a slow-acting drug, “and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

I swallow hard, trying to force out a response, but nothing comes.

“Because you want me to fuck you.”

His lips skim from the corner of my mouth to my jaw. My entire body locks up, every muscle wound so tight it’s a miracle I don’t snap in half.

“But I won’t,” he hums, his lips just shy of brushing against my pulse. “Because you haven’t earned it yet.”

Something snaps inside me. My hands press against his chest, ready to shove him away but before I can move, his teeth sink into my neck.

My scream dies in my throat, swallowed by the sheer agony of it. It’s not a bite meant to tease, it’s a punishment that burns straight down to my bones.

I try to shove at his chest, but he’s already pressed too close.

My nails dig into his arms as I thrash, but his grip on my waist tightens, pressing so hard into my skin I’m sure it’ll leave bruises behind.

“Zane—” The sound that rips from me is strangled, it’s more from pain than anger.

He doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t let go.

He latches on like a leech, digging his teeth deeper. My breath comes in short, choked bursts, a tear slips down my cheek, not from fear or helplessness, but from frustration.

Because no matter how hard I fight, how much I push, he’s stronger.

No matter how much I tell myself I hate this, my thighs are pressing together of their own accord.

I throw my full weight against him, but it only makes him chuckle. His mouth finally lifts from my skin, and I gasp, gulping in air like I’ve just broken the surface of an ocean.

---