Sweetest Venom (Virtue #2)(34)

Her back curving, she digs her feet on the mattress. “Please, Ronan …” There’s a blush that’s spreading from the crests of her cheeks down to her chest. I can see the fast rise of her chest and sense her desperation growing.

I smile against her skin. “What do you want?”

She shakes her head. “No, Ronan … I …”

“Show me,” I say before biting her neck.

Rachel reaches down to touch me, wrapping my cock in her small hand. Arching, she begins to rub me against her *, wetting the head, making me shiver, driving us both mad. She places the swollen head in her entrance and grabs my ass, pulling me inside her snug, wet cunt and wraps her legs around my hips. She gasps and I groan when I’m deeply rooted in her *.

I keep my hold on her one wrist and begin to f*ck her in slow and easy strokes, feeling the walls of her cunt tighten around me, stretching for me.

“What are you …” she moans. In. “doing to me …” Out. “I can’t get enough of you …” In. “And Carl’s waiting …” Out.

“He can wait. I’m having my breakfast.”

Letting go of her hands, I prop myself up on my forearms and continue to thrust, sinking deeper each time and pulling out farther. My arms are shaking and her body is trembling underneath me. My vision blurs. Her whimpers get more desperate. The pace is hard and fast now. Demanding. Urgent. And only release will soothe the fever spreading in our bodies.

I stop moving, my entire frame shaking with the painful need to release. My cock still buried inside her, I prolong the torture and withhold our pleasure. She circles her hips desperately, seeking her own release.

“Ronan … I can’t take it anymore. I need to …”

“Rub your clit, Rachel. Feel me inside your cunt.”

Looking down to where we’re connected as one, I see her touching herself, touching my cock covered in her—glistening with her need. I groan. Fucking losing it, I begin to pound into her again and again, pumping deeper and deeper, harder and harder. I hear the headboard slam against the wall, the mirror hung above the bed rattles angrily, and the bedsprings squeak loudly as her moans get louder and louder in my ear with each thrust.

“No more,” she pleads, she begs. Her voice hoarse.

“Yes, more. And more. And more.”

And I go harder and harder. The walls of her * begin to flutter around me. I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing her cries as I take us both over the edge, coming inside her.



Rachel and I watch Carl go over some of my photographs in the living room. We’re standing in my small kitchen, waiting for him to decide my future. It’s funny how life works sometimes. Just a couple of weeks ago, I thought that I had hit rock bottom. My life seemed to be in shambles. I had a dead-end job and a broken heart. Then I met Rachel, and now Carl Brunswick is in my apartment, sizing up my work.

Rachel bumps my shoulder with hers. “What are you thinking about? You’re quiet.”

I meet her gaze and grin. “Breakfast.”

She smiles. Lost in memories from this morning, we don’t hear Carl walk toward us until he’s standing two feet away from us. “Ronan, my boy, Rachel wasn’t wrong. You are very talented.” He glances in Rachel’s direction. “Are you all right, honey? You seem flushed.”

“I-ah-it’s just very warm in here. I’ll be fine. Excuse me.” Her eyes a soft, dazed blue. “I need to use the restroom.” She starts heading there but stops after taking a few steps, realizing that she’s not supposed to know where it is. “Ronan, is it this way?”

“Let me show you.” I look at Carl who’s smiling knowingly at us. “Excuse me.”

I follow her and once we’re out of Carl’s sight, I push Rachel up against the wall, my bulge cradled in that soft, warm spot between her legs. I cup her ass possessively, caressing the roundness and lowering my head to hers. “Stop blushing or I’m going to have to take you again.”

“No … Carl is …” She leans her head to the side, offering herself to me, and closes her eyes.

“I don’t give a shit.”

She laughs throatily. “Haven’t you had enough? I can barely walk.”

“No, Rachel.” I press her lower body into mine, imprinting the outline of my cock on her fancy skirt, showering kisses on her neck, my lips grazing pearls, and the swell of her breasts rising above her shirt. Grinning, I say, “Not by a long shot.”

“Ronan, please. Be serious.” She swallows and grabs the back of my head, pulling me closer to her. Her words deny but her body eagerly welcomes me.

I push her straight, perfectly blown out hair out of the way, and begin to suck the back of her neck, marking her. “Oh God … Yes, Ronan. Fine. Later.”

I let her go and grin like a cocky motherf*cker as I watch her walk away with shaky legs and burning eyes, heat spreading through her cheeks.

Back in the living room, I find Carl looking at another photograph. By the time he notices me, he places the picture down on the coffee table and walks back to the tiny kitchen. “You’re a very talented young man. I’m truly surprised you’ve remained under the radar for so long.”

“Thank you. I guess I never pursued anything too seriously. Life kept getting in the way.” After I got into art school, Jackie got pregnant and needed my help. I put my dreams on the back burner, quit school, and got a job that paid okay money. We couldn’t allow our grandparents to pay for everything. And then a couple years later, another chance came knocking on my door. Edgar got me in touch with an art dealer, who had seen a shoot that I did for a very obscure fashion magazine and liked what he saw. We set up an appointment to meet at his gallery the day before he was flying to Milan. On my way to the meeting, I got a call from school. Ollie had fallen from the monkey bars and broken his arm. Jackie was working and couldn’t get out of work and our grandparents were away visiting friends in Florida. I called the art dealer and apologized. We never met.