Page 5 of Endless Love

But the rest?—

I should tell her the whole truth. ThatI’mVenom. That I was the man at Masquerade, too. That I’ve been stalking her this entire time, that I broke into her apartment masked to kidnap her—yes, to keep her safe from my family, but also because I needed to buy time. Time to figure out what to do next.

Instead, she thinks I saved her from him. That he was working with my father to kidnap her, that ‘Venom’ is some cover for a man who uses the dark web to lure women in as victims for my father’s trafficking ring. And it makes sense. It’s a story that fits everything that’s happened so far.

And I’m willing to let her believe it, because if I told her the rest of the truth, she wouldn’t be in my arms right now.

I won’t be able to keep her much longer. I have a solution for keeping her safe from my father, but it’s not one that keeps us together. And the truth is—I don’t think she wants that, anyway. I don’t think she’d stay no matter what I said.

Take me home, and leave me alone.

Those words felt like a dagger, one that’s still in my heart, twisting as I kiss her. As I lick into her mouth, my tongue tangling with hers, one hand fisted in her hair tightly to keep her from getting away. As I know, even as her mouth softens and she starts to kiss me back, that this is almost certainly the last time I’ll ever touch her like this.

Which is just another reason why I can’t stop.

I let go of her other wrist, and I wait for her to shove me away. To break the kiss and scream at me again. It’s not as if I don’t deserve it. I deserve every slap, every curse. Every awful thing she could say to me.

I’m the reason her life is falling apart. Why, even though she doesn’t know it yet, it will never be the same again.

And I can’t stop myself from taking this one last thing that I don’t deserve.

Instead of pushing me away, her hand curls into my shirt. I feel her gasp as my arm slides around her waist, pulling her into me, letting her feel how hard I am for her. How desperately I want her.

I can’t stop kissing her for even a moment. If I do, she might remember why she shouldn’t want this. It might give hera moment to think. So instead, I kiss her harder. I nip at her lower lip, suck it into my mouth. I slide my tongue against hers, memorizing the taste of her. I kiss her like I’m starving, like I’m a drowning man, and she’s air.

She moans, a small, tiny sound of desire, and it snaps something in me. My fingers press against the back of her head as I back her up towards the bed, my hand on her waist, grabbing at her shirt, yanking it up. I need to feel her skin—I need to feelher,to have this one last taste of her before she’s gone forever.

I can feel her trying to make the shape of my name against my mouth, but I don’t stop kissing her long enough to let her speak. I yank at the buttons of her shirt, ripping them open, hearing thepopof them against the fabric as I tear the shirt away from her. I feel her gasp, hear a small cry of what might be protest, but I’m already spilling her back onto the bed, dragging my own shirt up over my head as I push her down onto the mattress and spread her legs open with my knee.

She lets out another mewling cry against my mouth as I yank open the button of her jeans, grabbing a handful of the denim and the cotton underneath and dragging them both down her thighs. The moment she’s even partially bared to me, I drop to my knees in front of the bed, one hand gripping her hip as I lean in and press my mouth between her legs.

“Ivan!” Charlotte cries out my name, her hips bucking against me as I drag a hot line from her entrance to her clit with my tongue, sucking the already-wet flesh into my mouth as her hands grip the duvet. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way I eat her out—I devour her, licking and sucking, nipping at her folds as I feel her hot arousal coat my mouth and chin, and I slide one hand down, roughly shoving two fingers into her as I feel her thighs start to tremble.

“I—I’m going to—” One of her hands catches in my hair, yanking at it as her back arches, as I drive her into an orgasmfaster than I ever have before. I feel her clench around my fingers, and my cock throbs against the fly of my jeans, rock-hard and aching to be what she’s tightening around instead.

I keep fingering her, yanking her jeans down off of her legs and tossing them aside as I spread her wider. I slide my other hand under the curve of her ass, sliding one finger against the tight hole there, teasing the entrance of it as I keep sucking her clit and lapping at it with my tongue.

“Ivan—Ivan!” She cries out my name, the sound of it making me harder with every moan. The need to possess every part of her feels obsessive, primal, and I push my finger against her asshole, the tip slipping inside as her hips buck, and she lets out a startled cry.

I’ve been inside of her mouth, in her tight, perfect pussy, and even if I never get to fuck her in the ass, I want to know what it feels like for her to come while some part of me is buried there.

She doesn’t tell me to stop. She writhes against me instead, her head falling back against the bed, her legs spread wide for me as I roll my tongue over her clit again and again, sliding my finger deeper into her tight asshole as I add a third inside of her pussy, scissoring them back and forth. The sounds she’s making turn to helpless gasps and moans that sound like they want to be words, but can’t quite make it there. She’s dripping wet, every movement of my fingers inside of her, impaling both of her holes, driving her arousal higher and closer to a second climax.

I want to make her come again before I fuck her. I want her so dripping wet that I don’t even have to struggle to get my cock inside her. And then I want to feel her come all over it, too.

She’s so close. I can feel her trembling underneath me, her thigh muscles tightening, and I curl my fingers inside of her, holding her pinned between my tongue, my fingers in her pussy, and my finger filling her ass. She’s going to come for me like this,and I can feel from the way she’s shaking how much it turns her on, how filthy this makes her feel, and how much she loves it.

This is what she was chasing, all those nights when she logged on to that website to talk to Venom. That night she came to Masquerade. This feeling is what she wanted, and I’m going to give it to her, even if it’s the only chance I get to do it.Especiallyif it’s going to be the only chance.

I feel her thighs tighten around my head, feel her buck against my tongue, and then she comes hard.

The sound she makes is a scream that turns to a shriek, building as she rides my tongue and my fingers, writhing against me. I hold her there, her arousal flooding my mouth, her entire body shaking as she moans something that sounds like my name, clenching around me as she keeps coming, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves her limp and gasping against the bed by the end of it, her eyes tightly closed as she tries to catch her breath.

I don’t give her a chance. The moment I feel her orgasm start to ebb, I push myself up with one hand, the other frantically undoing the button and zipper of my jeans as I free my throbbing cock, line it up with her dripping entrance, and thrust hard.

I don’t have a condom, and at this moment, I don’t care. The feeling of her bare is what I want, wet and tight and hot, gripping my cock in a way that I’ve never felt before. I’ve never fucked a woman raw before, not even when I was an idiot teenager, and I shouldn’t be doing it now—but if I never do this with her again, I want to know what Charlotte feels like without that thin barrier of latex between us.

Andgod, it feels so fucking good.

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