Page 25 of The Bitterness of Venom

SIXTEEN

It's late—well,early morning—when Blaise drags herself into the apartment. Smelling of smoke and some other man’s cologne. I grit my teeth as I sit on the couch in the dark, watching her lock the front door. She's changed clothes since the party. This dress is tight and short. One of those little outfits she puts on for others.

My hand flexes on the armrest. "Where do you sneak off to?"

If I scared her, she doesn't show it. She slips her heels off, carrying them in her hand. "None of yourbusiness."

I don't mean to, but a dark chuckle chokes out of me. "We're going to have to remove that sentence from your mind." I stand, following her down the hallway to her room, shutting us in behind me.

She walks to her window, lifting it up. I follow her, snatching the joint and lighter from her hands. She doesn't fight me. Just turns, leaning against the windowsill as she watches me. I don’t smoke or drink during the season. I hold the joint to her lips, my cock stiffening as she allows the paper to rest against her lips. I flick the lighter, holding it up until the cherry burns bright. Once she hits it, I pull it away from her lips. She blows the smoke in my face, momentarily fogging my vision.

I hold it back out toward her, marveling at the control she's allowing me. She inhales again, this time blowing the smoke out the window. I'm feeling particularly bored tonight, and I have so many ideas on how to satiate that feeling, but none are as particularly fun as the idea of watching her come.

Though I won't do that until she cleans the remnants of the man she was with tonight off her skin.

Mind made up, I stub the joint out, put my shoulder against her waist, and lift her up. She protests lightly, not enough to make me stop. Nor do I fucking care. I kick open my door, bumping it closed behind me. Walking to my bathroom, I turn my shower on. Not warm or hot like a decent person. No, I turn it to cold. I drop her and she makes a little groan as she tries to get away from the freezing spray. I lightly press my shoed foot to her chest, holding her in place as her dress sticks to her body. Her makeup drips down her face, making her look like a drowned rat. I smirk as she pushes her wet, pink strands out of her face. Her glare aimed directly at me.

Keeping my foot pressed to her chest, I switch the water over to hot, grabbing my bodywash and shampoo. I remove my foot, tossing her the products. "Get undressed. Clean up,"I command, leaning back on the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.

She stands, pulling her dress over her head, and then she throws it at me. I bite my lip to hide my amusement. Got a temper, that one. But the amusement dies a painful death when she's left in nothing but a pink thong the same color as her hair.

I'm fucking hard, the outline of my dick visible in my sweats as I rearrange myself. And when she turns around, giving me a spectacular view of her round ass, I groan. I want to mark her ass with my hands, mouth, and teeth. It's painful to watch her clean her body. She teases me with massaging her breast, playing with her tight little cunt. And the whole time, she stares me dead in the face, no emotions at all. If it wasn't for the light flush on her cheeks, I would think she's unaffected by me watching.

She finally finishes. And it's a good thing she does because my control is hanging on by a thread at this point. The need to punish her is strong. So strong, I don’t allow her to dry off before I'm dragging her to my bed, flinging her across my knees. Her skin is pink, flushed from the heat of the water. "What the fuck are you—"

My hand smacking across her ass cheek cuts her off, and the silence that follows is palpable. "Where were you?" I demand.

"None—"

Smack.

She whimpers, fidgeting in my lap, forcing me to lay one arm over her back to keep her still. I don't soothe the stinging of my slaps. This isn't that kind of relationship. Even if it were, she wouldn't want me to. She wants the pain, the punishment, to feeleverything.

I slip my fingers inside her pussy, tsking at what I find. "My dirty little doll, you are soaked. Are you getting off on your punishment?"

She answers by wiggling against my hand, trying to find some friction. "I'm going to ask you one more time. "Where were you?"

She says nothing.

"Perfect," I whisper.

I slap the backs of her thighs, her pussy, her ass. Alternating between spankings and teasing her clit, bringing her to the hilt, only to deny her and start over again. She's a sobbing mess in my lap. Ugly tears and snot running down her face as she fights desperately to gain control of the situation.

"Do you want to come, baby?" I murmur, sinking my fingers into her ass cheeks and squeezing.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." She sobs.

"Where were you?"

"I can't tell you." It's so low, I almost miss it.

I sigh, pulling her up with me. I grab a T-shirt out of my drawer and toss it to her. "Get the fuck out, Blaise."She growls, shoving her hands through the arm holes. “And don’t even think about making yourself come.”

The last thing I see is her middle finger before she slams the door.

SEVENTEEN

A month passeswithout any contact from Desmond. He doesn't even look at me. At home, he ignores me completely. I'm left dumbfounded. Has it really been a month since he denied me an orgasm and left bruises on my ass? I couldn't sit without feeling discomfort for days. And oddly, when they were gone, I missed them. What does that say about me? Whatever it is, I ignore it.

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