Page 137 of Craving Venom

It’s about submission.

It’s about breaking me down until there’s nothing left of me that doesn’t belong to him. I don’t understand, but my stupid, self-destructive brain makes a decision before I can stop myself.

I nod. It’s barely a tilt of my head, but it’s enough. Enough to let him believe he’s nothing special. Even though I hated thatkiss with Trevor, even though I felt nothing, it doesn’t hurt to let Zane think otherwise.

To let his pride take the hit.

I expect him to mock me, but he doesn’t. His expression changes—not into amusement, but into anger. Into something that looks so close to hurt that it makes my chest tighten for a completely different reason.

But before I can process it, before I can even finish nodding, he’s on me. A sharp gasp rips from my throat as his fingers dig into my cheeks, yanking my face up toward him so fucking roughly that my hands fly off the sheets only to pry at his wrists, trying to tear his grip off me.

“Lie to me again,” he growls pressing his thumb so hard into my jaw I swear something might crack.

“Go on, and I’ll fuck the truth out of you until you can’t lie without moaning.”

I suck in a shaky breath, forcing out the only word I can manage through gritted teeth and pure panic.

“No.”

His fingers tighten one last time, then he lets me go. Zane jerks his body up and his knees dig into the mattress, sinking in as he looms over me, the space between us dwindling to nothing.

He reaches for the hem of his hoodie, gripping it tight before yanking it up slightly, exposing the hard plane of his stomach with a hint of black ink stretching over his ribs, disappearing under the fabric.

Is that a tattoo?

The urge to see more hits me too hard, but I ignore it. I rip my gaze away, trying to remind myself—

He’s a fucking monster. Not a man. A monster.

But he doesn’t miss the way I look at him.

“You want me to strip for you, good girl?”

I glare, the side of my jaw tightening as I force out, “I want you to drop dead.”

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. Keep pushing, and I’ll show you just how close I can bringyouto death before pulling you back.”

My stomach bottoms out when Zane lifts his arms slightly and curls his fingers around the buckle of his belt, and in one slow, fluid motion, he slides it through the loops, the leather hissing as it comes free.

My thighs clench together, but not because I’m trying to protect myself but because my body is humiliating me.

Who the hell looks sexy while taking off a belt?

Who the hell can make something so simple feel so suffocating, so obscene, so terrifyingly intimate?

I should be terrified.

Iamterrified.

Zane loops the belt around his knuckles, testing the leather, stretching it, letting the sound of it snap between his fingers like a warning.

Then his eyes find mine and my lungs refuse to function.

“Give me your hands, good girl.”

“Wh—” My whimper fractures as my body shakes and my breath splinters from my lungs. “Wh—what are you—”

“Your hands, Faith.”

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