Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Asher…”
“Ivy…” He mocks, unbothered.
I close my eyes, controlling my breathing.
“Leave!” The words scrape out. “Before—”
He spins me around, both hands framing my face now. Those eyes bore into mine, searching. Intense. “Why?”
My hands find his chest. I’m meant to push him away, but my fingers curl into his shirt.
Weak.
So fucking weak.
“This isn't—” I start, my head shaking. Nothing makes sense and everything does at the same time.
“Isn't what? Convenient? Clean?” His laugh is dark. Bitter. “Nothing about us has ever been clean, Ivy.” Why is he saying these things? Where is the Asher I know?
His forehead presses against mine. “You didn't answer my question. Are you done?”
I should walk. Every rational part of my brain screams at me to send him away. Protect him from what comes next.
From what I am.
But my phone vibrates on the counter, and I reach for it, swiping the new text.
“Ivy,” his voice is strained, as if the fact that I just picked up my phone was the first hint that I’d disappointed him.
Don't forget to clean house after playing in it. What will you do, My mariee… prove to everyone that you're loyal to me. Not to him. Not to love. To me…
I don’t reply, my phone feeling heavier in my hand as each second passes. Of course I’m fucking loyal to him.
Asher's hands slide down my neck, over my shoulders, down to my waist. He pulls me flush against him, and I feel every hard line of his body.
“I have to—” I try to pull away, but Asher's grip tightens.
Something that resembles pain flashes across his features, but before I can catch it, it disappears, and he backs me against the counter, caging me in. “Damn. I really thought…”
My heart slams against my ribs.
The world tilts to the side.
He brushes my hair back, before using it as a grip. “You're mine, Venom. None of this will change that.”
The claim should terrify me. Instead, it ignites something feral in my chest.
“I don't belong to anyone.” Even as I say it, my body betrays me. Arches into his touch.
“Liar.” His mouth hovers over mine. “And you fucking know it.”
His lips crash into mine, swallowing whatever protest I was forming. The kiss is possessive. Consuming. It tastes like a future that’s mapped out for me without me even realizing it.
Mariee de la Mort doesn't get happy endings. She doesn't get this… whatever it is.
Asher breaks the kiss, fingers gliding along my collarbone. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
His hand stills. Those blue eyes lock onto mine, searching for something I can't give him. Something I don't have left to offer.
My chest constricts, each breath harder than the last. Prove you’re loyal to me.
Please don't. Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't make me choose between what I am and what I want.
My heart squeezes so tight I think it might shatter. Oh my fucking God why is this so damn hard.
My hands move over his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath my palms. Up to his neck where that rope of leaves wind behind his ear. His hair is darker tonight, wet from the snow outside. Too pretty to be mine. Too good for what I am.
“We need to say goodbye,” I whisper, rising onto my toes. His lips hover inches from mine, close enough that I can taste him. “Please forgive me.”
Asher Jameson came with a fiancée.
He'll leave in a body bag.
His eyes widen. Understanding flashes across his face. There's something there, disappointment, maybe…
“Venom, wait—”
But I'm already pulling the trigger.
The gunshot cracks through the air, the kickback slamming into my chest as my finger trembles against the trigger.
Except.
Except Asher's hand shoots up, catching my wrist. The bullet tears through the wall behind him, sending plaster raining down like snow.
“What the fuck,” he growls, yanking the pistol from my grip. It clatters across the tiles, skidding through Parker's blood. “Yeah? Really?”
My eyes burn. A single tear rolls down my cheek, hot and foreign.
I haven't cried since I was twelve.
Since the night everything changed.
Asher's grip on my wrist tightens, bruising. His other hand fists in my hair, forcing my head back. “You were really gonna fucking shoot me, Venom?”
Not a question. An accusation.
“Yes.” I'm exactly as he calls me. Venom. Spiteful. Poisonous. Put on this earth to kill.
Pain flickers over his eyes. Betrayal. “Why?”
Because you lied.
Because you're friends with Parker.
Because I can't let myself love you.
Because love is weakness and weakness gets you killed.
“Does it matter?” I ask instead, forcing myself to not focus on how my heart feels like it’s being torn from my chest.
His jaw clenches. “It matters to me.”
I meet his stare. “It shouldn't.”
“Too fucking late for that.” He releases my hair but doesn't let go of my wrist.
The room tilts.
“Asher…” I whisper, squeezing my fingers into my palm.
“Shut up.” He yanks me into his chest, lips crashing against mine. Silly Asher. He should have checked my other hand.