Page 215 of Craving Venom

He once told me he wanted to hear sounds torn from my throat that no human makes.

And now, he’s getting his wish.

The cell door is partially visible.

Anyone walking by will see the movement. Hear the noise. Maybe even watch through the small window and know exactly what’s happening inside.

I should be scared.

But I can’t bring myself to care.

And judging by the look on his face?

Zane doesn’t give a single fuck either.

“Slow down.” My head falls back against the cell door. “Please, fuck, just slow down, I can’t, I’m going to—”

“I can’t slow down, Faith. I stopped being human the second I wanted you.”

The words die in my throat the second he slams deeper.

Too deep.

Too fucking deep.

Lightning forks through my abdomen when he rams into me, the brutal slam rattling my IUD deep inside, dragging a full-body shudder through me.

“Zane.” My chest caves in with a strangled breath. “Zane, stop.”

He doesn’t.

His hips recklessly slam up into me. He knows. God, he knows, and still he fucks me harder, like he’s trying to tear me apart from the inside, rip out anything that dares to stand between him and the only thing he’s ever wanted. Me. My body. My soul. Like my pussy was made for him and him alone, and anything inside it that says otherwise needs to be removed.

“You’re scaring me,” I pant, even as my hips are in rhythm against his. “Don’t come inside me Zane, please.”

He drags his cock halfway out, then slams back in with a snarl that sounds less human and more beast.

“Oh, I’m going to fill you up.”

“No—fuck—don’t—”

He hisses through his teeth, slamming deep again, grinding against the spot where my IUD presses inside me like a ticking time bomb.

His hand clamps down on my lower stomach with his fingers splayed wide as if he’s physically holding my womb in place.

“You feel that?” His thumb digs in just below my navel, pressing where his cock slams again and again, until I swear, I can feel the shape of him through my flesh. “That’s where it’s going.”

I can’t speak. My mouth opens but nothing comes out but a broken gasp. My pussy clenches around him so hard it feels like a seizure. I want to shove him off. I want to claw his chest until he bleeds. I want him deeper.

“You were made to take my come,” he snarls, grinding his hips in brutal circles that keep slamming my IUD.

“No—Zane—fuck—don’t—” My eyes burn. My thighs quake. I’m wet in ways I don’t want to be. Every thrust makes my pussy cry and cling to him.

“You think you hate me now?” His lips curl into a grin I can feel. “Wait until you’ve got a piece of me growing inside you.”

His cock drags against the most sensitive part of me, and my vision blurs. Colors smear at the edges of my sight and my muscles seize, starting with my thighs, then my pussy, then everything in between while my arms go slack around the metal bars and my back arches hard against the door.

And I stop fighting it.

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