Page 13 of Viper's Single Mom
"Viper, I can't?—"
"Yes, you can." I slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right. "One more, sweetheart. Give me one more."
She was so responsive, so sensitive, writhing beneath me as I built her back up. This time I took my time, drawing it out, making her work for it. Her hands fisted in the sheets, head thrown back, bottom lip caught between her teeth to stay quiet.
"So fucking beautiful," I murmured against her skin. "Could do this all night. Make you come until you can't remember your own name, let alone his."
That did it. She clenched around my fingers, whole body going rigid as the second orgasm crashed through her. This one was quieter but deeper, leaving her boneless and panting.
I kissed my way back up her body, taking my time, worshipping every curve. The underside of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the soft swell of her belly. She was trembling by the time I reached her mouth, kissing her deep and slow.
"You're wearing too many clothes," she complained, voice wrecked, tugging at my belt with shaking fingers.
I helped her with the buckle, then shucked my jeans and boxers. Her hand wrapped around me immediately, and I had to grab her wrist to stop her.
"Not gonna last if you do that," I admitted. "Been hard since I kissed you on the porch."
She smiled, soft and knowing and nothing like the terrified woman who'd walked into my clubhouse. "Then you better hurry up."
But she didn't let go, stroking once, twice, thumb swiping over the tip in a way that made my hips jerk.
"Tara—"
"I want to feel you lose control," she whispered. "The way you just made me."
"Fuck." I let her have another moment, jaw clenched, before pulling her hand away. "Later. Right now I need to be inside you."
"When was the last time?" I asked, positioning myself between her thighs, teasing her entrance.
"Two years." She wrapped her legs around me, trying to pull me closer, but I held back. "Before I left Harrison."
Two years. Christ. "I'll go slow?—"
"Don't you dare." She grabbed my face, forcing me to look at her. "I'm not fragile. I won't break. I need you to make me forget everything but this."
I pushed inside her in one long stroke, and we both groaned. She was tight, hot, perfect. I had to hold still for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, just to keep from embarrassing myself like a teenager.
"Okay?" I managed.
"More than okay." She rolled her hips, taking me deeper. "Move. Please."
I started slow despite her protest, letting her adjust, learning what she liked. Long, deep strokes that had her gasping. A roll of my hips that made her nails dig into my shoulders. When I hit a spot that made her whole body tighten, I stayed there, kept that angle, that pressure.
"Right there," she panted. "Don't stop, don't?—"
I didn't. Kept the same rhythm, the same angle, even when my control started to fray. She was close again, I could feel it in the way her body gripped me, the way her breathing went ragged.
"Look at me," I commanded softly.
Her eyes opened, locked on mine, and the vulnerability there almost broke my control.
"You're mine now," I told her, punctuating each word with a thrust. "This body, these curves, every fucking inch of you. Mine to protect. Mine to worship. Mine to make come apart."
She clenched around me, nails raking down my back as she bit my shoulder to muffle her cry. The sharp pain triggered my own release, and I buried my face in her neck, groaning her name as I followed her over.
We stayed locked together, both shaking, sweat cooling on our skin. I could feel her heart racing against my chest, matching my own.
We stayed tangled together, catching our breath, her fingers mapping the scars on my back. I should move, I should probably leave before I got too comfortable.
