Page 89 of Venomous Throne

“Jaxon!” I whispered.

His fingers rubbed up and down my arms.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was this another one of his games?

Oh, dio, what if….Were we going to a dungeon?

I didn’t think I could survive a sex dungeon. But he did say he wanted to take me to a place where no one could hear my screams.

A rush of arousal made my panties wet. That idea was a freaking turn-on.

His whiskers brushed against my hot cheeks, no doubt seeing the bright red color there.

I took deep breaths, trusting the process. Trusting him.

The metal noises clinked and whirred, and then the sound of doors opening distracted me. Jaxon stepped forward, forcing me to move. I walked blindly into the unknown, ready for whatever was coming. It was a short distance before my fingers came against something hard and cold. More metal. Jaxon dropped his hold on one side and pushed a compression handle. The metal in front of me gave way.

A gust of wind rushed over me.

I inhaled sharply.

We were moving again, walking into the biting, snapping wind. This was some strange sex dungeon—

Jaxon stopped.

The blindfold was pulled off my head, and I blinked hard. The light was blinding. But it wasn’t some fake, overhead bulb.

No….

It was the setting sun, blazing across the western horizon. The red and orange streaks were violent, cutting through the expanse of blue.

We were standing on the top of a skyscraper. While other, taller monoliths loomed on either side, there were none blocking this view.

This fucking awe-inspiring view.

There was no breath in my lungs. Nature stripped it away. There was only orange. So much orange.

“Breathe, bella,” Jaxon finally murmured against the shell of my ear.

I shivered at the feeling of his beard against the sensitive skin.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

I simply stared.

Jaxon wrapped his arms around my body. “I’ve got you, but don’t look down.”

Of course, that was what I immediately did.

Vertigo overwhelmed me, and I swayed. But that strong, unforgiving grip grounded me to the pebbled roof.

“Look at the sunset,” he growled. “Not the street.”

I tore my gaze away, forcing it back upward where the fleeting painting nature stretched on and on.

The overwhelming burst of gratitude bloomed in my chest until it consumed me. I wriggled and turned in his hold. Clasping his face with both hands, I brought his mouth to mine. The mundane details of his life didn’t matter. The broad questions of our situation were lost. There was only his lips pressed against mine.

His tongue pushed into my mouth, searching and claiming me. I met it, and the kiss deepened. We were just a couple of people, lost in the ethereal beauty of our existence, stealing a moment from the chaos and claiming it as our own.