Page 30 of Sweet Venom

My heart stumbles from his words, and my breath hitches in my throat. Those are four words I've never heard, and they scare the shit out of me because they're everything. I spin in his hold and search his beautiful face, running my finger over the five o'clock shadow he's let grow into a beard over the past few days. He looks tired, as though sleep has escaped him just as it has me. My thumb finds his juicy bottom lip, where I gently brush over its soft skin before asking, "Say it again."

A low growl escapes his chest as he pulls me close, eliminating any space before crushing his mouth to mine. His other hand finds the back of my head as he dives deep, holding me right where he wants me, and I let him take it. I want him so bad it hurts. I've hated staying away, but I haven't gotten Sebastian's words out of my head, 'You think he'll still want you after he finds out I had you?' I fucked his brother, and damn it, if I didn't want every wicked moment, even the parts I shouldn't. The thought alone has me pushing back on his chest as bile rises up my throat from my traitorous heart.

He releases my mouth, only to find my jaw, trailing kisses as he repeats the words that slowly break my heart. "I need you, baby, so damn much."

"Ellis, stop. Please."

He only pulls me tighter. "I'm not going to stop, Vivian. You are mine. I'm not going anywhere." I close my eyes to hold back the tears that threaten to spill out as I choke on my self-pity. "Tell me, Vivian. Stop hiding from me. You can let whatever this is fester like a poison, threatening to steal your sanity, or you can let it free you."

"I'm not ready to lose you."

His hands find my shoulders, and he holds me at arm's length before saying, "What the hell are you talking about, Vivian? This stops now. Tell me, or I swear to god I'll destroy everything in my wake to find it myself."

I nod in agreement as nerves threaten to steal my ability to speak. "Okay," I say in a meek tone that sounds unfamiliar even to me. This isn't who I am; this is why I avoid emotions. They make you fucking weak. "Let me go, and I'll tell you." He squeezes my shoulder, earning my eye and giving me a glare that says don't test me. I fucking get it. He's reached his limit.

Turning, I take a few steps back, untucking the black long-sleeved button-down I wore today from my dark blue jeans. I hate collared shirts, but I've worn them to hide my bruises and avoid this very moment. Once my shirt is untucked, I slowly undo each button, and as I reach the last one, my hands tremble from the nerves threatening to run away with my consciousness. I feel like I'm on the brink of having a full-on panic attack. Rather than let the button win, I steal my spine and rip it open, only to grasp each seam and wrap them tightly around my body. Fucking pull yourself together, Vivian. You made your bed, now you must sleep in it.

With that last thought, I spin around and open my shirt, revealing the yellow and purple bruises that mar my torso from where Sebastian had his way with me. They were so much worse days ago, but I know I have more. These marks will fade, but one will not. I slip the top off my shoulders, revealing the bitemark he left on my shoulder. It's still tender to the touch. I haven't been able to sleep on my stomach or get comfortable in bed for days. The marks and soreness are a constant reminder of him, just like he knew they would be.

"What the hell, Vivian? Who did this to you?" He's at my front, running his hands over my torso. "Speak!" he yells, startling me and making me jump. I've never seen Ellis mad, and now I feel awful because I know when I deliver the news, it will only make things worse. The last thing I want to be is the woman who breaks them apart. They're all the other has.

I swallow my hurt and fear and say, "Sebastian."

He bites his fist hard with a growl. "I'll fucking kill him." Then, moving across my office, he knocks one of my chairs over in rage. "What happened, Vivian?" he booms before adding, "Don't even think about leaving anything out."

I pull my shirt closed tight as I try to find my words. I'm unsure what type of reaction I expected when the truth came out. I was always going to tell Ellis. However, it would be after I'd had enough time to fully process it myself. But now I realize that's not what I needed at all. It's what I told myself I needed to avoid this exact moment, because the truth is, I know how I feel and it scares me.

"No," I say firmly. I want my own answers. He started this by throwing us together and pushing our buttons. Ellis has just as much to answer for as I do.

"What do you mean, 'no?'" He clenches his fists and leans onto my desk, looking me squarely in the eye. "Don't test me on this, Vivian. He crossed the line."

His last words stoke a fire in my belly and help me find the nerve I had been looking for all this time. I throw my arms wide without care for my marred chest being on full display and say, "And who exactly is drawing those lines, Ellis?"

"You've refused to talk to me, Vivian, and because you're still choosing to be obstinate, you're forcing my hand." He steps around the desk, and his long legs easily have him in front of me in two strides. "This," he runs his finger down my chest. "Is not okay. He's gone too far. I will not allow him to hurt you."

I still his hand and shake my head. "He didn't hurt me, at least not how you think he did. This... this was to hurt you." His brow furrows as his eyes stay pinned to the bruises on my chest. It's clear he's deep in thought, and while I have his attention, I say the words I hate the most. "I wanted this, but he used me." Finally, I drop his hand and button my blouse, adding, "That man hates me something fierce, and he wants me gone."

Ellis brings his hand to my chin and tilts it up, his steel gray eyes piercing my heart. Those damn eyes have captivated me from the first time I saw him, speaking a hundred sentiments with zero words. But this look right now is new. It's raw, unfiltered, and looks a lot like love, and things I don't understand, because how can there be any love after my admissions?

"You have no idea how very wrong you are." He kisses my cheek before adding, "I expect you in my bed tonight. No more hiding." His eyes hold mine briefly before he turns on his heel and exits my office.

Ellis has consumed me since we met, rolling in like a storm without warning. As soon as I saw him, I couldn't unsee him. I don't believe in love at first sight, but if I did ascribe to such fanatical nonsense, it would apply to him. He left his mark from day one. Sure, a considerable part of that was his looks; the man is flawless. But add in his ambiguous personality that always keeps you guessing, and you're hooked. I believe that's why, for as much as we connect on some deeper level, our personalities passively war. We're both trying to fix each other. I want his secrets, his past, and his pain as much as he wants mine, but we're both too stubborn to bend and let the other in for fear it won't work out, and we will both be left broken beyond repair.

But I'm not about to let fear steal my future. It's already taken too much of my past.

Chapter 12

The Mastermind

"Lykos, I would say it's a pleasure, but we both know that would be a lie," Mason chides as I enter his office.

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. You'd think by now his ire toward me would have waned, but if anything, I feel like it's only grown. We see each other at family gatherings, and we are always cordial, but I know he has words for me. He keeps whatever snide remarks or resentment he harbors to himself. It's the one thing I do admire about him: Charlie comes first, and he'll sacrifice his comfort to ensure hers.

Before I have a chance to respond, he adds, "This better have nothing to do with my wife." He accentuates the last word with a harshness that turns the entirety of the sentence into a threat, but I pay it no mind. I don't care to go to war with Mason Croft, nor do I want his wife. However, I understand how a man forced to endure the presence of someone who has tasted his wife could be vexing.

I keep my face neutral while, internally, I smile. Not much ruffles the man, and I take great pride in knowing I affect him. I stroll up to one of the wingback chairs flanking his desk, and take a seat, crossing my leg over my knee at the ankle before saying, "I'm here to discuss Vivian."

His brows slightly raise, though I know my words didn't shock him. It's no secret we are involved—another reason I find the jealousy he harbors toward me amusing. "What do you expect to get out of me that you don't already know?"

---