Page 50 of Sweet Venom

"Don't move, Vi. Stand right here," he instructs as he steps away to turn on the water.

He's only gone for a second before he's back at my side, sliding my biker jacket down my arms. Then, reaching for my hips, he says, "Sit," before guiding me down to the bench, where he unlaces my boots and takes them off.

Once my boots are off, I feel him reach for my shirt to pull it over my head, but I stop him. "You have to take my pants off first. I'm wearing a bodysuit."

I hear him groan hungrily before he commands, "Up." I do as he says, and his hands immediately find the button on my black jeans, quickly unsnapping them before pulling them down my legs. I reach down to unclasp the buttons on my bodysuit, but he stops my hand and says, "No." For a second, I think he's going to have me leave it on, but then he adds, "That's mine to unwrap."

He taps each one of my legs to have me step out of my pants before slowly letting his hands coast up the backs of my legs. "Spread these pretty thighs for me." I do as he says without question, dying to have his hands back on my body, but where I thought he'd tease me, he doesn't. Instead, his fingertips barely touch my now-sensitive flesh before he pulls my top over my head. "No bra or panties today? I'd fucking kill Arnie."

"I wouldn't let Arnie get this far," I mumble, trying not to move my lips too much. I can feel the dust and particulates already irritating my face, and I don't want them in my throat.

"Good," he says, smacking my ass before guiding me to the shower. As soon as I reach the water, I tilt my head toward the source, desperate to get the grime off my face. Tate's hand immediately tips my chin down.

"Don't look up. Let the water run down." His thumbs gently brush over my eyes and cheeks before making their way into my hair. He feels so good—too good—and I have to open my eyes. I need to see him. My eyes flash open only to find his intently studying me. "I didn't tell you to open your eyes yet."

"I needed to see you."

His hand pushes a strand of hair behind my ear before he asks, "And why is that?"

"Because I missed you."

His beautiful, diamond eyes sparkle as though I just told him everything he ever wanted to hear before his lips seal over mine and his arms wrap around me, crushing me impossibly close to his chest. His tongue parts my lips, but his kiss isn't demanding; it's not rushed. He takes his time, which only gives me hope that he's still all in. But it's hope that has me pulling back and pushing him away. After the night I shared with Sebastian on the cliff, hope is no longer enough.

"I can't do this, Tate."

He backs me against the wall, his clothes now soaked through to the bone as he stands under the spray of the shower and says, "What is it, exactly, that you're not doing?"

"This," I gesture between us before adding, "I'm not leaving him. The fact that I want you doesn't change anything in that regard."

His hands cage me as his body presses against mine, and he says, "I know, but I can't let you go. Believe me, I've tried." His words squeeze my heart, as I have tried and failed miserably to do the same with him. Tate drops his head to the crook of my neck and gently peppers kisses behind my ear, making my nipples pebble with desire. My hands reach for his hips, and I attempt to remove his shirt. I need to feel his skin on mine, to be with him the way I've imagined for months, but he stops my hands and lays his forehead against mine. His eyes are shut tight, and his lips are pinched. It's then that his stories about Monica and the horrors he endured at her hands come rushing back.

"Tate, please," I whisper before placing a soft, closed-mouth kiss on his lips. "Let me replace it."

His hand flies to the back of my neck, and he kisses me deeply one last time before releasing me, pulling his shirt off, and throwing it to the floor. Chest heaving, muscles clenched tight, I take in the sight before me. His chest is covered in tats, just like I knew it would be, and at first glance, you wouldn't see anything but the art. The tattoos do a fine job of masking his scars, but they are there all the same. When I think back to the times I saw him at the gym, he always wore loose-fitting gym tanks. They only gave me a peek. You'd never get a long enough view to see these scars, not with the ink.

When I bring my hands to his chest, he flinches, and I instinctively retract my hand, but he quickly pulls it back, covering it with his own, his eyes locked on mine. He's giving me something. Something that's not easy for him to share, and I can't help but wonder if I'm not the first person he's given this side of himself to since he suffered the abuse at her hands. This raw moment hurts. I feel for the boy who had his life taken from him, and the man he was forced to become. I drop my eyes to his chest and all the tiny cuts and deep wounds that mar his skin.

I pull my hand out of his hold and slowly trace my finger over each one of his scars before kissing it and replacing the pain with love. This beautiful man lost the only family he had, and then suffered in silence at the hands of an abuser to save his sister. I envy his strength and selflessness.

Once I've kissed my way down his entire stomach, I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for his belt before finally meeting his eyes once more. His hands find my hair as I unbutton his jeans and pull them down, releasing his thick cock.

I lick my lips, preparing to take him in, but he pulls my hair. "We're not doing that. Those aren't the lips I want wrapped around my cock. Stand up." The moment I'm on my feet, he's lifting me up and pinning me to the wall, but just as I feel his cock nudge my entrance, he stops and says, "If I do this, I'm keeping you. No takebacks."

"You know my terms," I say as I wrap my hands around the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know your terms." Without another word, he pushes in deep with one thrust, and my lips part with a gasp. "Fuck, you look so damn beautiful taking my cock." He pulls back slowly before slamming in hard, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"I want to see you. Unlock your legs." I do as he says, and he slides me up the wall to hook my legs over his forearms. His cock falls out, and I whimper at the loss. "Patience, beautiful. I've been jacking off to thoughts of this pretty pussy for weeks. I'm getting my fill."

With my legs hooked over his forearms, I'm more than spread wide. He brings his tip to my entrance once more and only pushes in enough to tease before rubbing it through my lips. "My god, Vi. You have no idea what you do to me."

"Show me," I say right before he spears me with his cock. "Oh, fuck." I moan out as he hits me deep. There's a pinch of pain that's quickly replaced by pleasure as his girth stretches me in the best of ways, and his tip slowly rubs over my g-spot.

He pushes in hard and slow two more times, his eyes locked on where his cock disappears inside of me, wholly entranced before his hooded gaze finds mine, and he says, "I'm not going to last. I've wanted this for too long." His hands grip my ass, and he puts me right where he wants me before pushing in at an unrelenting piston's pace that has me barreling toward my orgasm. "Fuck, baby, choke it."

"Knock, Knock, Vivian. Are you good? Do you want me to send Beth in to assist you?" Mark's voice rings out through the locker room.

But Tate's too far gone to care; he doesn't stop, and fuck, I don't want him to, but I have to respond. I force what little composure I have into my voice and call out, "No, no, I'm coming. I'll be out in a minute."

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