Page 81 of Venomous Desires

That’s what my father taught me. That’s what I grew up to.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I grabbed her arm and realised how soft her skin was in my hand.

People like her were the reason I did what I did. They lived in their little bubbles, thinking the world was all rainbows and unicorns.Newsflash, Ptichka, it was not.

Dragging her down the hallway, her body grew heavy as she tried to dig her soles into the floor, and I rolled my eyes. As if I couldn’t just throw her over my shoulder.

She whimpered. The way my cock was throbbing was alarming at her sight.

Kyle pushed open the door to the penthouse. She resisted again, but that just got on my nerves, and shoved her inside.

Like I said, there was a method to my lunacy. And soon she would come to understand. In the end, they always do.

“I still don’t think—” I rolled my eyes. And removed the shades.

“I don’t care about what you think, Kyle. Suck it up, and do as you’re told. Your opinions are about as useful as nothing.”

I could almost see the gears turning in his head, struggling to come up with a retort that wouldn’t get him into deepertrouble.

Kyle and I shared a deep history. Something deeper than blood, but sometimes he loved getting on my nerves.

Something wrapped around my hand, and I realised my little bird was trying to yank herself from my grip, which only made me tighten my hold on her wrist.

She was a pitiful sight, and I loved it.

I looked down at her, taking in her appearance. A thin sweater hung loosely on her frail frame, doing nothing to hide the tremors of fear coursing through her body. Her pants were wrinkled and stained. Her tear-stained face was flushed, with red ears and neck. Her hair was a tangled mess, wild and unkempt as if she’d been hit by a storm.

And maybe she had.

I grasped that I liked her this way. It was like seeing a beautiful painting in the process of being destroyed. There was a raw, unfiltered honesty to her in this state, stripped of any pretence.

She was a canvas of hopelessness, and I was the artist holding the brush.

Her eyes, wide with terror, darted around the place, looking for an escape that didn’t exist. She was trapped, and she knew it.

“Be still,” I yanked her close. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so,” I loved how soft her hair was as I tucked the strand behind her ear. “Play the part, sweetheart, and we both get through the night. Try to be clever again, and I’ll make sure you forget how.”

Ever since the first time, I knew she had that flame, this stubborn defiance that strangely intrigued me.

Trembling and terrified of me. And the fact that her fear only made my cock ache should have sickened me. There was something about her that made me want to tear her open and devour every beautiful whimper she owned.

I’d never desired anything this bad.

Her lips wobbled, and I chewed my inner cheek and watched her, pondering if letting her into my life was a bad idea. She’d not survive in my world. Sooner or later, she’d look at me the way everyone else eventually did.

Yet, it wouldn’t stop me from pushing her over the edge. To see just how deep her fear ran.

My eyes raked over her face, and her gaze lowered. No woman had ever made me this uncontrollable. Since I never let my inner self take the reins, but with her, I forget my purpose and everything with it, watching her tear-streaked cheeks. It was hallucinogenic.

The pulse in her throat skipped, and so did my common sense.

Nothing helped when her sweater was clinging to her skin. I could see the shape of her breasts, her erect nipples begging for my attention.

The way she looked, it drove me fucking wild.

“Do you know what you do to me, Ptichka?” I whispered.

“Leave me—”