Page 32 of My Dark Divine
God, that feels oddly addictive.
I pause briefly to steer the car in the direction we need to go. Once we’re outside the city, the traffic finally thins out. “Relax, Netia. I’m a jerk, but I have morals and respect for you. You don’t need to worry about me being with someone else.”
“So, what? You’re telling me you’re secretly putting on makeup?” she presses, and my smile widens impossibly. There’s something so satisfying in the way she refuses to back down after I assured her I’m not seeing anyone. Her lack of trust only makes me appreciate her possessive, jealous side more than I should.
“It’s Chloe’s stuff. She forgets things sometimes. That’s the only thing we have in common,” I finally reply.
Her body visibly relaxes as she sinks back in her seat, putting the gloss away and reaching for the painkillers. “Fuck. Only one left.”
I wave her off. What kind of man would I be if I selfishly denied her the chance to feel better? Besides, I need something stronger than a painkiller right now. “Take it. I don’t need one.”
“We can split it in half,” she suggests.
My muscles spasm with irritation. “Jesus Christ, just take the fucking pill, Venetia,” I snap, unsure why I’m reacting this way. I guess I never expected her to… suggest something like this.
After a prolonged pause, she replies, “Suit yourself,” her voice quieting. She takes the pill, washes it down with water, and then turns her attention to the window, deliberately avoiding me.
Great. Now I’ve hurt her for no fucking reason and ruined the little peace we managed to create. The drive ahead is long, and now that we’re out of the city with nothing but a straight road before us, things are going to get awkward. “Hey?—”
“Don’t.” She raises a hand to stop me. “I’m tired.”
Rolling down the window, she invites the cold evening air to kiss her face. I lean back in my seat, relaxing as I take a momentto examine her, absorbing every inch of her while she’s lost in thought.
The dress she’s wearing is one of the simplest my sister has, and when she walked out in it, I was taken by surprise. I thought she’d be angry about me ripping off her torturous corset and that she’d pick something outlandish. Instead, she chose something simple yet elegant, free from all the constricting things she obviously doesn’t need.
I don’t notice how I gradually increase my speed, my foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. The little needle on the monitor climbs higher, and the noise from the open window blends into something indistinct.
If I can’t get her attention with words, then I’ll do it with my actions.
As Venetia pulls away from the window, I catch a tremor running through her small frame before she meets my gaze. Confusion rapidly gives way to concern when our eyes connect.
“West,” she whispers, a slight warning tinged with fear beneath the surface. “What are you doing?”
My senses are on fire from the withdrawal, and for once, I’m grateful for it. Every sensation is heightened, my gaze fixed on the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickens. Goosebumps dance across her pale, tender skin, creating a raw masterpiece laced with fear as she glances between me and the speedometer.
She looks vulnerable. Innocent.
Aroused.
Her legs press together, lips slightly parting as she places her hand between them, fisting the silk of the black dress that had seemed perfect just moments ago. Now, all I can think about is ripping it off her, just like I did with her old one.
“West, please, knock it off,” she pleads, her trembling voice echoing the quakes in her body.
Little does she know, her words only fuel my resolve. I don’t look at the road ahead; instead, I take my time, pulling my hands away from the steering wheel, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips as I hold eye contact. “I’m not doing anything,” I lie, pressing the gas pedal down, the thrill inside me deepening.
I watch as she swallows hard, the movement traveling down her slender throat. She shifts back against the seat like trapped prey, her panic settling in. The wind from outside tangles her long, wavy hair, whipping it against her flushed cheeks and caressing her chest as it heaves with staccato breaths.
I’m fucking mesmerized. The woman beside me is infuriatingly perfect, as if she was created just for me. Only I, in my current state of mind, can truly appreciate her beauty and absorb her emotions like no one else can.
I can barely hold back the urge to lean in and claim her right now while we drive to that fucking meeting. I fist my hand until I hear the crack of my bones, trying to distract myself, but it hardly works.
Her eyes roll, and if it weren’t for the loud noise outside, I’d catch the little whimper that escapes her lips more clearly. Pressing the pedal to the floor, I ramp up the speed to a dangerously high level. Her thighs brush together as she fists the fabric of her dress, trying to deny the sensations coursing through her body.
“Fuck, West,” she gasps weakly, trying to scoot farther into the corner in an attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. Her body tenses like a chord, and I can feel—fucking feel—how her pussy clenches around empty air, begging for me to help her.
She’s frightened, and that’s what turns her on.
“Are you going to come, Venetia?” I ask, inhaling her cherry perfume, the scent trapping me with no chance of resistance. It mingles with the fresh air from outside and the barely detectablescent of her arousal. “Right here, right now, from how scared you are?”
