Page 87 of Craving Venom

“Are you done running your mouth, good girl?”

I open my mouth to snap something back, but before I can, his free hand is shoving up my dress. My thighs clench together, but he just presses closer, forcing them apart with his knee.

His fingers slip between my legs, dragging up my inner thigh. I jolt when I feel the fabric in his hand, feel the unmistakable brush of lace before he’s pressing it against my cunt. My panties.

My stomach drops. “You—”

He shoves them inside me.

I choke on a sound that’s part gasp, part moan.

“Can’t have them smelling you, can we?”

My nails bite into his forearm, but he doesn’t stop. The pressure of the fabric stretching me open makes my thighs tremble. My body reacts despite the sharp flare of anger in my chest.

Zane steps back and slides his fingers down my body one last time before he lets me go completely.

Then he turns and walks out, just like that.

I sag against the window as everything crashes into me all at once. The humiliation. The shame. The overwhelming heat still twisting in my belly. A sharp breath shudders from my lips, and I press my fingers to my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut.

I will not fucking cry.

I force myself to breathe, dragging in shaky gulps of air, pressing the back of my head against the window. The room is unnervingly still. Everything’s gone dark. The lights overhead are off. A low vibration hums through the silence, and my eyes snap to the only source of glow. A phone. My phone.

Confusion knots in my gut as I spot it sitting on the table in front of the armchair. My phone was supposed to be with Tria. I never had it when I came in here.

Tria.

I push off the window as I grab my phone. The screen lights up with her name—an incoming call. I can’t answer. My fingers are trembling too much anyway, and before I can even consider it, the call goes to voicemail.

Then I notice the twenty-four voicemails she’s left. I would have heard it earlier. There’s no way I wouldn’t have.

Unless…

I swallow hard, glancing toward the door Zane just walked out of.

That motherfucker must’ve had a jammer in here, blocking the signal. And he took it with him when he left. That’s why I’m just now getting the calls.

A sharp breath rushes past my lips.

I need to get out of here.

I take a step forward and nearly trip over my own damn heels.

Fuck these.

I yank them off, leaving them where they fall. I straighten, pushing my hair back from my face, blinking away the hot sting in my eyes. Then I square my shoulders and walk toward the door.

When I first walked in, this place was drowning in light. Now, most of them are gone, leaving only a few flickering overhead. Shadows bleed into every corner, making it hard to see, but I don’t mind. It’s better this way. Less eyes to see the blood drying on my skin. Less eyes to see how fucking wrecked I look.

“FAITH!”

Shit.

I whirl around just in time to see Tria storming toward me.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” she snaps. “I’ve been calling you for hours! What the hell is wrong with you?”

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