Sweetest Venom
Page 3
Feeling Lawrence’s mouth on mine, I think of all the events that have brought me to this moment. I once yearned for love like everyone else, but it was the lack of love that made me realize that, by opening my heart to people, I was allowing them to weaken me. I was allowing them to take parts of me until all that was left was a girl with nothing else to give, with nothing inside of her but broken dreams. I was giving them the power to rule over my emotions and my thoughts. Every tear shed, every wish wished upon, and every smile that went unnoticed hardened me and made me who I am. I swore to God that I would never give anyone that power. That I would never let anyone get close enough to take another part of me.
And that’s why I had to let Ronan go.
He got too close. He made me feel too much. Ronan doesn’t only have the power to break me—he has the power to destroy me.
So here I am, pressing my lips harder against Lawrence and opening my mouth wider for his tongue. I look away and disregard a pair of brown eyes that once looked at me as though I were everything good in this world.
Yeah, pretending not to care takes skills, after all.
The memory of his words whispers in my ear, trying to pull me back to him.
Don’t you see it, Blaire? Don’t you get it? You’re in me. In everything I see. In everything I touch. You’re in the air I breathe, in the water I drink, and in every dream I dream.
THE TRIP TO LAWRENCE’S TOWNHOUSE is a living, breathing nightmare. Everything becomes a haze of emotions and images where it all blends together. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Hate. Lust. Yearning. One big clusterfuck of my own doing.
I might be sitting next to Lawrence but my mind is in the past, replaying the last time I saw Ronan over and over again.
It isn’t until we’re standing inside his house, Ronan and the world left outside its doors, that I’m able to breathe freely for the first time. Without saying a word, I make my way toward the staircase. The sooner we’re in his room fucking, the sooner I’ll be able to freeze my treacherous heart currently thawing like an ice cap in spring once more. I place my hand on the wooden handlebar at the bottom of the stairs when I realize that Lawrence isn’t following me. I turn to look at him and notice that he’s standing by the front door, studying me closely. I smile at him¸ but even I know that it’s a pathetic excuse for a smile.
He doesn’t smile back.
“Why are you standing there and not here? Is something wrong?”
As I await his answer, I take a moment to admire him, to absorb his wild yet polished beauty. Lawrence reminds me of an untamed animal, magnificent as the king of his domain with hunger in his eyes and graceful movements. He’s danger, inviting you to play with him as he taunts you with a tempting smile. And you know that you will be hurt for having done so, but you won’t be sorry—no, never sorry. He looks like a man who was born to rule and fuck.
“Come here,” he orders in his commanding voice.
Slowly, I walk to where he’s standing as my pulse accelerates. Without looking at me, he raises a hand and begins tracing my shoulder blade with the back of his fingers. “Tell me …”
“Yes?” I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly to the side, exposing—offering—myself to him. When he reaches the length of my neck, he closes his hand around it, the pad of his thumb caressing the spot where he can feel my blood pulsing through me. And though the stroke of his finger is ever so gentle, a violent shiver runs down my spine, leaving me hot and cold all at once.
“Do you happen to know Ronan?” Lawrence asks nonchalantly.
Sharply, I open my eyes. His question freezes me on the spot, extinguishing the spark that was kindling inside of me a moment ago. Our gazes connect and I’m afraid of what he sees in mine. Afraid he will see how my heart yearns for a man who I can’t have—my summertime in autumn.
And that’s why I had to let Ronan go.
He got too close. He made me feel too much. Ronan doesn’t only have the power to break me—he has the power to destroy me.
So here I am, pressing my lips harder against Lawrence and opening my mouth wider for his tongue. I look away and disregard a pair of brown eyes that once looked at me as though I were everything good in this world.
Yeah, pretending not to care takes skills, after all.
The memory of his words whispers in my ear, trying to pull me back to him.
Don’t you see it, Blaire? Don’t you get it? You’re in me. In everything I see. In everything I touch. You’re in the air I breathe, in the water I drink, and in every dream I dream.
THE TRIP TO LAWRENCE’S TOWNHOUSE is a living, breathing nightmare. Everything becomes a haze of emotions and images where it all blends together. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Hate. Lust. Yearning. One big clusterfuck of my own doing.
I might be sitting next to Lawrence but my mind is in the past, replaying the last time I saw Ronan over and over again.
It isn’t until we’re standing inside his house, Ronan and the world left outside its doors, that I’m able to breathe freely for the first time. Without saying a word, I make my way toward the staircase. The sooner we’re in his room fucking, the sooner I’ll be able to freeze my treacherous heart currently thawing like an ice cap in spring once more. I place my hand on the wooden handlebar at the bottom of the stairs when I realize that Lawrence isn’t following me. I turn to look at him and notice that he’s standing by the front door, studying me closely. I smile at him¸ but even I know that it’s a pathetic excuse for a smile.
He doesn’t smile back.
“Why are you standing there and not here? Is something wrong?”
As I await his answer, I take a moment to admire him, to absorb his wild yet polished beauty. Lawrence reminds me of an untamed animal, magnificent as the king of his domain with hunger in his eyes and graceful movements. He’s danger, inviting you to play with him as he taunts you with a tempting smile. And you know that you will be hurt for having done so, but you won’t be sorry—no, never sorry. He looks like a man who was born to rule and fuck.
“Come here,” he orders in his commanding voice.
Slowly, I walk to where he’s standing as my pulse accelerates. Without looking at me, he raises a hand and begins tracing my shoulder blade with the back of his fingers. “Tell me …”
“Yes?” I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly to the side, exposing—offering—myself to him. When he reaches the length of my neck, he closes his hand around it, the pad of his thumb caressing the spot where he can feel my blood pulsing through me. And though the stroke of his finger is ever so gentle, a violent shiver runs down my spine, leaving me hot and cold all at once.
“Do you happen to know Ronan?” Lawrence asks nonchalantly.
Sharply, I open my eyes. His question freezes me on the spot, extinguishing the spark that was kindling inside of me a moment ago. Our gazes connect and I’m afraid of what he sees in mine. Afraid he will see how my heart yearns for a man who I can’t have—my summertime in autumn.
