Chapter 20 #2
“This isn't about deserving!” She shoves at my chest, and this time I feel the strength behind it. “This is about survival. This is about things you don't understand, can't understand, and I'm not—” Her voice wavers. “I'm not strong enough to drag you into this.”
I catch her wrists, gentle but firm. “Let me decide what I can handle.”
“You don't get to decide!” Tears finally spill over, tracking down her cheeks. “You don't get to just—to just claim me like I'm yours to take. Like there aren't consequences. Like people won't—”
“I don't care about the consequences.”
“Well I do!” She wrenches free, putting space between us again. “I care that you could get hurt. I care that this thing between us is going to explode and take everyone down with it. I care that I'm married to a man who would—” She cuts herself off, jaw clenching.
“Who would what?” I move toward her slowly, predator tracking prey. “What would Parker do, Ivy?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“The fuck it doesn't.” My voice drops to something dangerous. “Tell me what he'd do.”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
“Why?” She rounds on me, eyes blazing. “So you can play hero? So you can swoop in and save me from the big bad wolf?” she pauses, head tilting. “What if it's me who's the wolf?”
My mouth twitches. “Then I'd say come eat.”
“You have no idea what I'm talking about.” Her laugh is wild, unhinged.
“Hmmm,” I murmur, doing everything I can to stop myself from tearing her apart with my fucking teeth. “Maybe. Or maybe I do.”
Her face crumples. “Stop.”
“Yeah?” I force. “You really want me to stop?”
She stares at me like I've gutted her. “You're insane.”
“Probably.” I reach for her face, thumbs brushing away tears. She doesn't pull away. “But I don't fucking care anymore.”
I tilt her face up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Why are you here, Venom?”
As quickly as they came, her tears have gone. Vanished. As if they never existed. “Because I'm weak when it comes to—”
“—Wanting me?” I test.
“Needing you.” The correction destroys something in both of us. “And that's so much worse.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Ivy—”
“Don't.” She presses her fingers to my lips, and I taste salt from her tears. “Don't make this harder. Please. I'm trying to be smart about this. I'm trying to protect us both.”
I kiss her fingertips, watching her face fracture. “What if I don't want to be protected?”
“Then you're a fool.” But her hand slides into my hair, betraying her words.
“Tell me you don't feel this.” I press closer, eliminating every inch of space. “Tell me last night meant nothing. Tell me you can walk away and forget.”
“I can't.” The admission breaks her. “But I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don't—” Her breath hitches, something dark flickering over her eyes.
I grab her by the chin, cutting off her words. “I'm done. Done letting him have you when you're supposed to be mine.”
“I'm not yours.” But her body says otherwise, arching into mine.
“Keep telling yourself that.” My mouth hovers over hers, fueling the fire she started inside of me the first time we met. “Maybe one day you'll believe it.”
“This is wrong.” Her hands fist in my shirt, tits brushing my chest. “This is so fucking wrong.”
“Is it?” I brush my lips across her jaw, feeling her shudder. “Are you sure?”
“Asher, please.” She's begging now, but I don't know for what.
My thigh presses between her legs and her breath catches. “I'm done waiting for you to decide if I'm worth breaking that perfectly constructed script.”
Her body tenses, and seconds pass.
Yeah, you gonna catch that or let it go?
Her mask slips back into place. “It's not about worth. It's about survival.”
“Venom,” I beg, and it feels like eating dirt. I don't beg. I don't ask. I take. But with her, everything's different. “Let me fucking help you.”
“You can't help me.” She sounds defeated. “No one can.”
My lip curls. “Watch me.”
“You're fucking stubborn.” her hips move, as if she meant to rub against me.
“And you talk too much.” My mouth claims hers and she melts into it as if on command. I bury my fingers into her hair, pulling it tight and using my grip to bend her head to the side and deepen the kiss. Her tongue plays with mine in that intoxicating way that makes my chest tighten.
I pour every ounce of frustration into the kiss, teeth catching her bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp. Her nails rake down my chest through my shirt, and that's all the permission I need.
My hands find the zipper of her coat, yanking it down with enough force that the metal protests. She shrugs out of it, already pulling at my shirt, buttons scattering across hardwood.
“This changes nothing,” she pants against my mouth, but her hands are already at my belt.
“Liar.” I grab the hem of her thermal, dragging it up and over her head in one violent motion. Black lace underneath. Of course.
She retaliates by shoving my shirt off my shoulders, her mouth finding my tattoo. Her tongue traces it like she's claiming ownership, and something primal snaps inside me.
I lift her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist on instinct. Three steps to the bed. I drop her onto the mattress hard enough that she bounces, chest heaving, eyes wild.
“You want to pretend this means nothing?” I tower over her, working my belt free. “Fine. But your body knows better.”
She props herself on her elbows, defiant even now. “You think you know me?”
“I know you're wet.” My hand slides up her thigh, fingers finding damp lace. “I know you've been thinking about this since last night. I know you came here because you needed this as much as I do.”
Her back arches when I press against her through the fabric. “Fuck you.”
“That's the plan.”
I grab her hips, flipping her onto her stomach. She tries to push up but I press between her shoulder blades, keeping her down.
“This what you want?” My voice comes out destroyed. “To hate me while I'm inside you? To pretend it's just bodies and nothing else?”
She turns her head, meeting my eyes over her shoulder. “Yes.”
The lie sits between us, obvious and necessary. We both know what this is—desperation wearing the mask of anger, need dressed up as hate. But if this is how she needs it, if this is the only way she'll let me have her, then I'll take it.
My hand tangles in her hair, pulling until her back bows. “Then hate me all you want, Venom. But we both know the truth.”
“And what's that?” she moans, grinding against my dick.
I smirk, slapping her across the ass. “That you're mine.”
I hook my fingers into her lace, tearing it down her thighs. She kicks them off, and I'm already positioning myself, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.
“Tell me you want this.” My voice is gravel.
“I hate you.” But she pushes back against me, and that's answer enough.
I sink into her in one brutal thrust, and her cry splits the air. She's tight, wet, and perfect, and for a moment I can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel her clenching around me.
“Fuck.” The word rips out of me.
I pull back and drive forward again, establishing a rhythm that's hard but deliberate. Each thrust is controlled, measured, designed to make her feel every inch.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, punctuated by her gasps and my ragged breathing. I adjust the angle, and she makes this broken sound that goes straight to my spine.
“There?” I grind against that spot, watching her shoulders shake. “That what you need?”
“Yes.” The admission sounds torn from her throat. “Yes, fuck, yes—”
I feel her building, the way her body tightens around me, drawing me deeper. My hand slides around her hip, finding her clit, and she detonates.
Her orgasm rips through her, back arching violently as she cries out. I don't stop, working her through it until she's trembling, oversensitive, begging in broken syllables that might be my name.
Only then do I flip her onto her back.
She blinks up at me, dazed and wrecked, lips swollen from my teeth. I settle between her thighs, sliding back inside in one slow glide that makes us both shudder.
This time it's different.
I brace myself on my forearms, lowering until our chests press together, heartbeats competing. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my lower back.
I move slowly now, long rolls of my hips that make her breath catch. My mouth finds hers, and this kiss is nothing like before—it's deep and searching, tasting like salt and surrender.
“Ivy.” Her name on my tongue feels like prayer.
Her hands slide into my hair, not pulling, just holding me to her as we rock together. The anger burning away, leaving something raw and terrifying in its place.
“Look at me,” I demand, and when she does, her eyes are glassy. Not with tears—something deeper. Something that looks like drowning.
“I can't do this,” she whispers, but her body contradicts every word, meeting each of my thrusts with desperate need.
“You're already doing it.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. “This is a mistake.”
“Probably.” I kiss her jaw, her throat, the hollow beneath her ear. “But I'm not stopping.”
She makes a sound that's half sob, half moan. “Why do you have to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you care.” Her voice breaks. “Like this matters.”
I still inside her, forcing her to meet my eyes. “It does matter.”
“Don't.” She turns her face away. “Don't make it more than what it is.”
“And what is it?” I catch her chin, turning her back. “What is this to you?”
Her breath hitches. “A distraction. A moment of weakness.”
My hand lands on her throat as I pull back, driving forward hard enough to make her gasp.
“That feel like a distraction?”
“Asher—”
“Say it again.” Another thrust, deeper. “Tell me this means nothing. Lie to me, Venom.”
Her breath hitches, something shifting in her expression. Fear and need warring across her features.
I change the angle, grinding against her clit with each thrust, and she gasps. “That's it. Let me have you. All of you.”
“Asher—” My name sounds like a sob.
“I'm right here.” I press my forehead to hers, movements becoming urgent, desperate. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. “Promise me.”
The plea destroys me. “I promise.”
She breaks.
It's not just physical—I feel it in the way she shatters beneath me, the way her whole body convulses and her cry sounds like grief and relief tangled together. Her walls clench around me in waves, pulling me deeper, and I'm powerless against it.
My own orgasm rips through me with violent force. I bury myself to the hilt, groaning her name against her throat as I come undone. Every muscle locks, spine arching, vision whiting out.
We stay locked together, trembling, neither willing to move first. Her hands slide down my back, gentler now, tracing scars she can't see.
“Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper.
She makes a sound that might be agreement. Her legs loosen around my waist but don't release me entirely.
I lift my head, needing to see her face. She's wrecked—hair wild, lips swollen, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Beautiful and broken and still holding something back.
“Ivy—”
“Don't.” She touches my lips, her hand shaking. “Please don't say anything.”
But I need to. I need to tell her everything churning in my chest, all the words I've never said to anyone. “This changes things.”
“I know.” The admission sounds like defeat. “That's what terrifies me.”
I pull out slowly, both of us wincing at the loss. She immediately curls onto her side, pulling the sheet around herself like armor.
I collapse beside her, reaching out to pull her against my chest. She resists for half a second before melting into me, face pressed to my heartbeat.
We lie there in silence, her breathing gradually evening out. My hand strokes her hair, untangling knots I helped create.
“What happens now?” Her voice is small, muffled against my skin.
I kiss her forehead, the conversation Atlas and I had an hour ago repeating in my head.
“I don't know, baby, but we'll figure it out.”