Page 116 of Gravehouse

The stars barely die behind my eyes, but I manage to nod.I love you.

Something in him snaps.

He pumps into me with a hard, brutal rhythm until the stairs groan beneath us. Each thrust hits that deep place that blurs my vision, his cock splitting me open while his hand braces beside my head.

“Fuck,” he grits out, jaw clenched, eyes locked on mine. “Fuck, Venom.”

I can’t think. Can’t fucking speak. Soaked and swollen, my body just takes him, nothing but the wet slap of skin filling the quiet.

My eyes stay fixed on him. Because Asher coming apart is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

His control slips one piece at a time, the smirk gone, the teasing gone, leaving raw need carved into his face. Sweat slides down his throat, his breath ragged against my mouth.

This is the version of him no one else gets. The one I’d kill for.The one I’d die for.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, his thrusts turning sloppy. “Gonna make sure you fucking feel me tomorrow.”

“Do it.” I drag my nails down his arms.

He buries himself to the hilt with a sound that’s half growl, half my name. He works his cum into me, the hot pulse of him spilling deep. I’m so lost in him, in us, that I barely feel the cool glide of the gun over my ribs.

Until the loud crack of a bullet splits through the house and burning hot pain erupts at my side.

Asher drops his weight onto me, his lips grazing my ear. “Now we’re even.”

Tears run down the side of my face because the motherfucker just shot me.

“Asher!”

He rolls his eyes, yanking his pants up with one hand and tucking the gun into his waistband. “This was your idea.”

He scoops me into his arms before I can protest, carrying me up the rest of the steps.

“Put me the fuck down!” I smack at his chest. “I can walk.”

His arms lock tighter, one hand splaying flat against my spine. “Shut up.”

Even though he’s moving way too slow, I manage to peek over his shoulder. “I just got this carpet.”

“I know,” he mutters, kicking the door shut behind us.

He sets me down against the bathroom mirror, my back smearing a wet streak of red across the glass.

“Sit fucking still,” Asher growls, and when I don’t, he grabs me by the throat and holds me there with a glare. “Gonna need you to calm your ass down.”

“You.” I pull in a hissing breath. “Shot me while you came!” The pain climbs hotter with every second. “Masochist!”

“Clearly!” His eyes go wide. “I’m in love with you.”

My mouth falls open.Did he just say that out loud, or am I starting to lose consciousness.

I hold my hand up in front of my face and squint. “One, two...” Cupboards open and slam, and I shift out of his way, giving up on the test to hold the wound at my side. Seems more important anyway.

I lower onto the edge of the bath, watching him flip open first aid kits.

“How’d you get the exact same spot?”

He doesn’t lose focus on what he’s doing. “What do you mean?”