Page 276 of Craving Venom

He can wait. I’m seeing him in an hour anyway.

I pull off the hoodie slowly and set it aside. The white dress waits on my desk, and I step into it without a bra or panties because there’s no space for modesty in something this bare, this sinful. They’d only ruin the way it clings.

The silk glides over my skin, it’s cool at first. Then warm as it clings to every part of me. My tits press against the fabric and my nipples harden beneath the slip. The slit flutters at my thighs when I move.

I walk to the mirror and swipe a gloss stick across my lips.

I’m fixing my hair when I feel a breath in the air that isn’t mine. I look up. Zane’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

“You’re early,” I whisper.

“You’re holy.”

His eyes drag over my body like a sin he plans to confess later just to relive it in detail.

“I’m convinced heaven made one mistake.”

My chest tightens. “What?”

He steps forward.

“You.”

I stare at him through the reflection.

“You should’ve stayed up there,” he says. “Whatever god sculpted that body didn’t build it for Earth.”

I turn, facing him fully now.

I arch a brow. “Careful, there. You don’t believe in gods and goddesses.”

“I didn’t.” He steps forward and wraps a hand around my waist, dragging me against his chest. “Not until I found my heaven in one.”

“You’re blaspheming.”

He leans in until his breath skates across my shoulder.

“I’d burn down churches for the chance to watch you come on my tongue. How’s that for blasphemy?”

His palm curves down to my thigh, brushing just under the hem of the dress. Just enough for his knuckles to brush the inside of my leg.

I grab the vanity for balance.

“Zane—”

“I might not be a religious man, but I’d make gods and devils alike kneel at your feet.”

He bends down until his lips barely graze the curve of my neck, but I press a hand flat to his chest, and he stops.

I don’t push him away yet. Instead, I brush my lips to the edge of his jaw. My fingers slide along the buttons of his shirt, teasing open the top one and ghost my mouth to his ear.

“And would you, Zane?” I pause, letting my breath pour over the shell of it. “Would you kneel at my feet?”

The weight of him is still hovering over my skin, but now it feels different. Like I just put a blade between us and dared him to lean in.

“Baby, I’ll kneel.” His cock is hard beneath his trousers, pressing against the front of him as if it’s trying to answer for him. “Then I’ll drag my mouth up your thighs and pray into your cunt.”

A shiver rips down my spine.

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