Page 51 of Beautiful Venom

No. To his voice.

Rough, deep, and so close, I feel the vibration of his chest against my back.

He doesn’t even yell, but it’s commanding nonetheless. He has this impressively monotone volume that never rises or drops. But maybe that’s why it’s terrifying.

I’ve witnessed exactly what Kane is capable of, so his calm, agreeable image is now disturbing instead of intriguing.

Since his arm is above my head on the door, blocking my exit, I figure escaping isn’t an option. After one last circle on my thumb, I spin around.

He’s close.

Too close. His chest hovers near mine.

So close, I can breathe alcohol and mint off his lips.

This close, I can see the dark rings that circle his frosty-blue eyes.

So inhumanly close, I’m trapped by the warmth his body emanates, like a gateway to hell.

So unsettlingly close, my legs squeeze together out of a strange need to protect myself.

And the most infuriating part is that I can’t read his expression.

Or lack thereof.

Like a blank board, his face is neutral and his eyes are muted, almost as if he’s bored with the entire ordeal.

I wonder if he has this same expression while fucking.

No.

Why the hell am I thinking about Kane and sex?

I lift my chin. “What do you want?”

“What doyouwant?” There’s a flare in his nostrils, a hardening in his tone that turns authoritative and firm.

“Me? You’re the one who imprisoned me here.”

“You’re the one who keeps appearing in front of me. Again and again. Despite my clear warnings. So tell me, Dahlia, do you lack survival instinct, or do you have a twisted kink about dying young?”

“I didn’t mean to appear in front of you tonight.”

“Is that why you chose to attend a victory celebration party formyteam? Or why you were snooping around business that doesn’t concern you?”

“It’s not that I wanted to be here. I was invited by a friend.”

“An invitation you should’ve refused.” He kills the distance between us and his chest grazes my breasts that suddenly grow heavy. “But you’ve never been good at refusing invitations, have you? You seem to always land yourself in a clusterfuck by just existing.”

“Don’t insult me.” I don’t know how my words come out coherent when I’m drowning in his scent. When his mere touch is sending me into flight mode.

But I’m standing.

Here.

Facing him.

As foolish as that sounds.

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