Beautiful Venom: A Dark Hockey Romance (Vipers Book 1)

My nails dig into the strap of my bag.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip.

And I draw countless circles on my thumb in an attempt to properly breathe.

In.

Out.

You know how to breathe. Remember how to breathe.

But no amount of comfort movements dispels the tension sinking in my stomach.

“I’m just leaving.” I speak clearly, though my voice is low. “Didn’t you ask everyone to get out?”

“Not you.”

My heart jumps, and I really, really hate my body’s reaction to his words.

No. To his voice.

Rough, deep, and so close, I feel the vibration of his chest against my back.

He doesn’t even yell, but it’s commanding nonetheless. He has this impressively monotone volume that never rises or drops. But maybe that’s why it’s terrifying.

I’ve witnessed exactly what Kane is capable of, so his calm, agreeable image is now disturbing instead of intriguing.

Since his arm is above my head on the door, blocking my exit, I figure escaping isn’t an option. After one last circle on my thumb, I spin around.

He’s close.

Too close. His chest hovers near mine.

So close, I can breathe alcohol and mint off his lips.

This close, I can see the dark rings that circle his frosty-blue eyes.

So inhumanly close, I’m trapped by the warmth his body emanates, like a gateway to hell.

So unsettlingly close, my legs squeeze together out of a strange need to protect myself.

And the most infuriating part is that I can’t read his expression.

Or lack thereof.

Like a blank board, his face is neutral and his eyes are muted, almost as if he’s bored with the entire ordeal.

I wonder if he has this same expression while fucking.

No.

Why the hell am I thinking about Kane and sex?

I lift my chin. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?” There’s a flare in his nostrils, a hardening in his tone that turns authoritative and firm.

“Me? You’re the one who imprisoned me here.”

“You’re the one who keeps appearing in front of me. Again and again. Despite my clear warnings. So tell me, Dahlia, do you lack survival instinct, or do you have a twisted kink about dying young?”

“I didn’t mean to appear in front of you tonight.”

“Is that why you chose to attend a victory celebration party for my team? Or why you were snooping around business that doesn’t concern you?”

“It’s not that I wanted to be here. I was invited by a friend.”

“An invitation you should’ve refused.” He kills the distance between us and his chest grazes my breasts that suddenly grow heavy. “But you’ve never been good at refusing invitations, have you? You seem to always land yourself in a clusterfuck by just existing.”

“Don’t insult me.” I don’t know how my words come out coherent when I’m drowning in his scent. When his mere touch is sending me into flight mode.

But I’m standing.

Here.

Facing him.

As foolish as that sounds.

I’ve just never been good with people belittling me. It’s often gotten me into more shit than I can afford, but I refuse to be trifled with.

Kane peers down at me, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. “Or what? You’ll offer your services to someone else?”

I raise my hand and slap him.

My palm stings and I immediately know I fucked up.

So when he lifts his hand, I close my eyes, waiting for the slap. I almost forgot he said that if I hurt him, he’ll hurt me as well. Without holding back.

I brace myself for the hit, but what comes is the soft drop of his fingers on my chin. I slowly blink my eyes open and my lips part.

Kane’s clutching my jaw like he did in the forest. His thumb and index finger are stretching across the skin, squeezing just enough to keep me immobile.

He’s studying my face with utter fascination, as if he’s never seen me before.

As if I’m a foreign being he’s attempting to figure out.

“Why did you slap me?” he asks, his fingers stroking my cheek in what seems like a doting gesture, but is actually locking my muscles.

“Because you disrespected me,” I whisper, holding on to my silly pride.

“Do you slap everyone who insults you?”

“If I can reach them, yes.”

“You didn’t slap Gavin and Isabella when they called you a bitch.”

“I didn’t get the chance since you kicked them out.”

“Would you slap them if I called them in again?”

I purse my lips.

“You wouldn’t,” he announces as if it’s a given. “Do you know why?”

“Because Gavin is stronger than me and can kill me?”

“I can kill you, too, but that didn’t stop you. Want to know what I think is the true reason behind your actions?”

“No.”

“I’ll tell you anyway. Their words didn’t get under your skin. Mine do.” He swipes his thumb over my bottom lip, back and forth, back and forth like a curse. “Interesting.”

“That’s not true.” His thumb grazes my lips and teeth, and he watches the motion.

I’m more taken aback by how my words sound like a lie to my own ears.

Kane’s eyes remain on my mouth, watching with intense attention, as if he’s in the midst of solving a math problem.

My lips tremble despite my attempts to remain calm.

“Don’t.” His voice deepens, forcing goosebumps to erupt on my skin.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re shaking.”

“Shaking?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Your fear turns me on.”

He thrusts his leg between mine, forcing me to part my previously locked thighs. My eyes widen at the feel of his very thick, very hard cock, hot and heavy against my naked flesh.

Memories of being fucked by this very same cock makes me shudder. It doesn’t matter how long ago it happened. My body resurrects at the thought.

The other night, after he warned me off in that forest, I had a dream about him fucking me against a tree and woke up with my hand buried in my wet folds. I took a cold shower right after and promised to find another path and not get close to Kane again.

He’s dangerous.

And not because of what he’s capable of, but because of my reaction to him.

Because instead of being scared of him and the satanic organization he belongs to, all I keep thinking about is the blinding pleasure I felt in his ruthless arms.

Yes, fear still exists, but it’s definitely not the only emotion I have toward this man.

I clench my stomach and my thighs, trying to harden my resolve and not be affected.

A deep, rough noise leaves his throat.

“Stop moving. Unless you’re going to open your mouth and let me fuck your throat until I decorate these red lips with my cum.”

My pussy pulses and the body-tingling sensation I had after that dream rushes back to the surface.

“You’re sick,” I whisper, though the words could also be directed at myself.

“I’m well aware. Which is why I warned you. Over and over again.” He maneuvers his leg so that I’m sitting on his thigh. My dress bunches up to my waist, revealing my black panties.

Then he moves until his dick presses against my underwear, provoking deep pressure. I resist a moan. God, that feels so good.

“And again.” He rolls his hips and thrusts again.

Even though clothes separate us, my pussy clenches, demanding to be filled. I’ve never been sexually frustrated, but I think that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

“But you don’t do well with warnings, do you? You’re a little rebellious wildflower that thinks it can survive anywhere. But guess what?”

He drives his hips forward, harder, rubbing his clothed cock against my starved pussy as he holds my face with both hands, forcing my eyes to remain on his.

It’s a different invasion from the one below. He might be dry humping me, but his icy eyes…those are fucking my soul.

“I’m your winter, Dahlia. No flower can survive winter. Not even wildflowers.”

I grab onto both of his wrists as he thrusts into me with blinding precision, rubbing his cock and thigh against my sensitive clit. My back hits the door from his vicious power, and I feel the inexplicable need to grab harder for balance. To feel all of him plowing into me, igniting the sharp tingles of pleasure inside me.

God. I think I’m broken.

I thought I wanted gentle, caring, and a lot of prep to be aroused, but it turns out, I need rough, filthy, and completely unapologetic sex.

The fact that Kane takes what he wants without asking for permission makes me dizzy.

Hell, it makes me wetter.

“Lower your hands,” he orders in a rough voice.

I release his wrists and hold on to his waist beneath the jacket instead.

And pause.

Because I’m touching the definition of rock.

Was he this muscular before? Despite his lean waist, he’s so toned.

“Dahlia…” The warning rolls off my skin as if he’s licked me. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re touching me, too.” I dig my nails into his skin, refusing to let him go.

His movements slow down, and I nearly scream in frustration. “Stop touching me or I’ll leave your wet cunt unsatisfied.”

My libido wins and I let my hands drop from his waist and press them to the door so I won’t instinctively grab onto him. He doesn’t seem to be a fan, despite the fact that he’s all over me.

Hell, he’s holding my face hostage. But I suppose there’s a difference between his and my touch.

Mine is softer, seeking some form of connection. His is all about power, control, and absolute dominance.

He rubs his dick up and down my wet cunt, his movements long and steady, never turning frenzied or unrestrained.

His breathing is deeper, his touch is stronger, but he seems to be in complete command.

I, on the other hand? My pants fill the space, and holding in the small noises that rip out of me is beyond my reach.

“You’re soaking wet for someone who swore to never want to be fucked by me.” His gruff voice fills my ears and penetrates my skin.

“Physical reaction.” I try to sound normal, but my voice is hoarse and ends in a moan as the rhythm intensifies.

“Physical reaction?”

A tinge of fury rolls off him and seeps beneath my skin.

There’s a long and deep retreat before he rams me into the door.

I think I’ll come then and there.

But I don’t, so I provoke him. “Yeah, anyone could do it.”

“Anyone, huh?”

I think I see a muscle jump in his jaw, but it immediately disappears when he glides his cock so fiercely, a swell builds, overtaking me.

My eyes close, mostly because his are so intrusive that I feel like I’m going to burst under their scrutiny.

“Do you ride just anyone, wildflower?”

My thighs clench and I realize I’ve been shamelessly rubbing myself against his leg, faster and harder, needing the release more than my next breath.

Part of me is horrified that I even want this. That Kane can arouse me like no other man has been able to.

The very idea of Kane stirs a part of me I didn’t know existed. My panties are damp and the texture of his pants creates delicious friction against my sensitive skin.

My thighs quake and my legs part farther, as if I can invite him to thrust into me through the layers of clothes.

The wet rubbing sound saturates my senses, and I shudder as my pussy tightens and a surge swells and expands until I can’t think straight.

“Open your eyes. Look at me when you come on my cock.”

I slowly stare at him. This close, with his hands around my cheeks and his piercing eyes seeing into my soul, I lose the battle.

In fact, I don’t even feel it rushing in.

The orgasm comes crashing in, heightening and flowing through my entire body.

My legs lock around his, and I wrap my arms around his waist as I ride the blinding pleasure, fractured moans slipping out of my lips.

The release goes on and on, and although it’s not as intense as when he fucked me on the ground, it’s a close second. Probably because there was no penetration.

Jesus Christ.

Why am I thinking about penetration?

“I told you not to touch me.” He releases my face and steps back.

I’m forced to drop my hands from his waist, my mind still floating in a pleasure haze. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Is that so?” He places a hand on top of my head, stroking my hair, then shoves me down. “Such a beautiful liar.”

My knees meet the carpet, and I choose to believe the thud in my chest is due to the orgasm and not because he called me beautiful.

The sound of a belt unbuckling reaches me before I stare up. My mouth dries and the tingling in my pussy heightens to a painful throbbing.

Kane releases his huge cock lined with angry veins and strokes himself in one rough movement.

I almost forgot how big he is.

Almost.

He grips his dick in front of my mouth as if it’s a weapon and I swallow thicky. His left hand bunches in my hair, gathering it in a ponytail and using it to tilt my head back. “Did you paint these lips red for me?”

I shake my head once, somehow enchanted.

He taps the crown of his cock against my mouth. Once.

Twice.

“Hmm. Then who’s this red lipstick for?”

His precum paints my lips and trickles inside until I taste the saltiness on my tongue.

“Doesn’t matter.” He slaps my mouth with his cock. “I’ll mess up and use these red lips anyway. Open.”

My throat dries, and, as if hypnotized, I let my mouth part.

I tell myself that after what I overheard tonight, it’s useless to get close to anyone else. He’s clearly the strongest member of the team and probably on campus.

I can get close to him and use him through his libido.

But the truth is, I’m starving for a taste.

I’ve never been a fan of oral or blowjobs, but this feels different.

Surreal.

Almost as if I want to do everything with this enigma.

Whenever I’ve given a blowjob before, it was only because I felt like I had to. Because guys need their cocks sucked to get in the mood.

Not now.

Now, my thighs are rubbing together at the prospect.

Kane thrusts inside my mouth. “Wider. Stick your tongue out.”

I do, trying to accommodate him, but he’s big both in length and girth. My jaw hurts, and it’s a task to keep my teeth out of the way, but I manage to fit a considerable amount one inch at a time.

“You’re taking my cock so well. You’ll let me fuck your face and come down that pretty throat, won’t you, Dahlia?”

My ears buzz whenever he calls my name in that slightly husky tone.

My response is to lick him and grab the base with both hands, twisting and matching the rhythm with my tongue. Now and again, I pull him out to lick and suck on the head.

Just because I’ve never liked blowjobs doesn’t mean I’m not good. I look up at Kane as I lick, twist, and jerk off his hardening cock.

The darkening look in his eyes makes me more enthusiastic. Hell, it turns me on.

And I know it turns him on, too, because he keeps thickening in my hand.

“Who taught you to suck cock like that?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

“Mmm,” I speak against his flesh, then kiss the tip and suck on it. “You like it?”

He tugs on my hair until pain erupts on my scalp. “No. I’m about to fall asleep.”

My heart falls.

He pushes my hands from his dick and grabs it. “Open your mouth.”

I do and he thrusts all the way back, gagging me. Tears spring to my eyes, and I think he’s done playing and will get rid of me now.

“That’s it.” I feel him growing thicker and harder. “This is the proper way to take my cock.”

A ringing fills my ears, and I feel like I’m going to faint, but he pulls out. I splutter and choke on my saliva and his precum, but his firm grip on my hair doesn’t allow me to move.

“Again. Open.”

I pant, but I follow the command. I don’t want to owe him for that orgasm, and I definitely don’t want to seem like a quitter. I can offer him the same pleasure he gave me.

My lips open of their own volition as I hold on to his thighs.

Another deep thrust, and this time, the tears flow down my cheeks as he fucks my throat, my face, my mouth, making me gasp and gurgle. He uses my tongue for friction, driving into me with so much dominance, I’m dripping wet.

There’s no reason I’d be so aroused when he’s using me, but I think that’s the reason.

The fact that he’s using me as a vessel for his pleasure ignites a strange sensation inside me.

“You look so fucking beautiful on your knees, wildflower.” He thrusts in and out, forcing me to look up at him. “You’re choking on my cock so well. Mmm. Good girl.”

My heart surges and I think his words will make me orgasm or something equally ridiculous.

His rhythm picks up, his hoarse, deep groans echoing in the room, and I watch with utter fascination as he throws his head back, his eyes closed, like a sex god.

His cum shoots down my throat, thick and long.

“Swallow,” he orders. “Every last drop.”

I try my best, but I can feel streaks of cum trickling down either side of my mouth.

Kane pulls his cock out of my mouth, and to my horror, it’s still half erect.

He hits me with it on the mouth. “Lick it clean.”

I grab him at the base and lick the skin, swiping my tongue over his length and sucking the tip into my mouth while maintaining intense eye contact. I probably continue the show longer than necessary.

Kane watches me the entire time, his eyes darkening, his finger twitching on the back of my head.

Then, all of a sudden, he pulls his dick from my grip, tucks himself in, and buttons his pants.

The motion takes me by surprise, so I just sit there and watch, my ears still filled with a dizzying buzz and my head floating somewhere else.

Kane lowers himself on his haunches in front of me, and I stare at him, panting. He seizes my chin and before I can think of what he’s doing, he leans in and swipes his tongue from the corner of my mouth to my left eye.noveldrama

Then he does it again on the right side, his tongue leaving tingles and goosebumps behind.

Is he…licking my tears?

What the…?

He stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t cry. It makes me hard.”