Page 82 of Craving Venom

Zane sighs, and his fingers tighten in my hair. Pain bursts along my scalp as he yanks hard, forcing my head back against his grip. A small gasp slips out before I can stop it, and that’s all he needs.

The second my mouth parts, he inclines the bottle. The first mouthful floods past my lips. I choke, my throat working against the sudden onslaught of liquid. The glass kisses my teeth, pressing harder, tipping further.

Wine spills down my chin, trailing over my throat in deep red rivulets. My lashes flutter as my body fights between swallowing and suffocating.

Zane’s fingers don’t loosen.

“Five minutes of me being nice are over,” he drawls against my ear.

A sharp shudder rolls down my spine.

The bottle arcs faster, pouring relentlessly past my lips, my tongue, down my throat. I cough against the force of it. My stomach revolts at the sheer amount of it. Then, just as my vision swims, I hear a sharp, splintering sound.

My gaze flicks to his hand just in time to see a thin fracture spiderweb across the bottle in his grip. It’s not through and through, but it’s enough to send a spike of terror through my chest.

Then, finally, he pulls the bottle away.

Wine spills from my lips as I collapse against him, and his thumb swipes across my lower lip, smearing the wine. “Messy,” he muses.

I want to hit him. I want to claw his eyes out. But before I can even move, he spins me around, forcing me to face the window.

Zane hums, dragging the cracked bottle along my jaw, tilting it ever so slightly so more of the wine spills down my neck.It’s warm now, mixed with the heat of his palm, and it slithers between my tits.

I flinch hard as the bottle skims along my collarbone. The glass is still intact, but my body already feels the cracks. I can sense the sharp edges waiting to tear me apart.

Zane chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’re acting like I’m going to break it.”

I swallow thickly, my pulse hammering. “Aren’t you?”

He tsks, shaking his head. A sharp inhale rattles in my chest as he drags the bottle lower, following the path of the spilled wine.

“I was only going to admire you,” he murmurs, tracing the rim around one stiffened nipple before moving lower. Wine follows his path, the scent of it clinging to my skin, mixing with my sweat. “Drink a little with you.”

He leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “You smell fucking divine.”

I don’t get a chance to respond before his teeth sink into my throat.

A sharp cry leaves me as he bites down hard enough to bruise. The sting spreads, but before I can even process it, his tongue drags over the mark, soothing the pain only to sink his teeth in again.

He works his way down, biting deep.

My neck.

The curve of my shoulder.

The swell of my tits.

Every mark burns, a delicious ache that makes my head spin.

His free hand moves lower, the fingers of his bruising grip pressing into my stomach. He drags his nails across my skin, hard enough to leave angry red trails.

I should fight.

I should tell him to fuck off, to let me go.

But when the bottle follows the same path as his fingers, tracing my ribs, my stomach, my pelvis, I freeze. Zane chuckles darkly, teeth grazing the underside of my breast before he sucks my nipple between his lips, his tongue lapping up the wine.

“You taste even better,” he murmurs against me.

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