Page 24 of Viper's Salvation
"Of course," I say, finding my voice again. "And I think you know it too."
"Maybe I do," he admits, a playful light entering his eyes. "Or maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."
"Fishing for compliments?" I give him a playful shove, but he doesn't let go, pulling me with him so we end up even closer than before, our faces barely an inch apart.
My eyes drop to his lips—full, perfectly shaped, slightly reddened like he's been biting them.
"My eyes are up here," he teases, mimicking the line women have used on men since the beginning of time.
"I know," I reply boldly. "But I prefer looking at your lips right now."
He laughs softly. "You're something else, Amy Stone. One of a kind."
And then he's leaning forward, eyes drifting closer, and I follow his lead, meeting him halfway. His lips are soft, softer than I expected from someone so hard in other ways. He kisses me like he has all the time in the world, gentle at first, then with increasing pressure as I respond.
His hands slide down to my hips, and I don't even flinch at the touch. There's no fear here, no uncertainty. This isn't the bad guy. This is a man who wants to cherish me if I let him.
And god help me, I want to let him.
Viper breaks the kiss, both of us gasping slightly for air. When I open my eyes, I can't help but notice the substantial bulge straining against his jeans. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I want to touch him there, to feel him grow and harden in my hand, to have that kind of power over such a strong man.
But I need to control myself. My body is still healing, and rushing into sex might not be the wisest choice, no matter how much I want it.
"I didn't expect this to happen," he says, his voice husky with desire.
"Me neither," I admit. "So... what now?"
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch impossibly gentle. "That depends on you. I know you're still hurt, still healing. We can stop right here, no questions asked, or..." His eyes darken. "We can see where this goes."
The responsible part of my brain is screaming at me to slow down, to think this through. But my body has other ideas.
"Would we... do it here?" I ask, glancing around at the empty lakeside.
"I wouldn't mind," he says with a roguish grin that sends shivers down my spine. "But only if you're comfortable with that."
"I don't think I can wait until we get back to the clubhouse," I confess, heat flooding my cheeks. "I need... something. Now."
His hand moves to his bulge, cupping himself through his jeans. "I need something too," he says, voice dropping an octave.
Emboldened by his openness, I slide my hand down the front of my pants, maintaining eye contact as I do. "So do I."
His breath hitches visibly, pupils dilating until the green of his eyes is just a thin ring around black.
"Touch yourself," he commands softly. "Let me see you feel good."
I slip my fingers beneath the elastic of my panties, finding myself embarrassingly wet. My middle finger circles my clit, and I gasp at the sensation. It's been so long since I've touched myself this way, and never so shamelessly, never with someone watching me with such hungry appreciation.
"You too," I manage between soft moans. "I want to see you touch yourself too."
He doesn't hesitate, unbuckling his belt and lowering his jeans just enough to free himself. My eyes widen at the sight. He's thick and long, the veins prominent along the shaft, the head already glistening with pre-cum. My mouth actually waters at the sight.
Viper wraps his hand around himself, stroking slowly, his grip tight as he moves from base to tip and back again. His head tips back slightly, eyes heavy-lidded but still fixed on me.
I can't look away from his cock, from the hypnotic rhythm of his hand, even as my own fingers work faster between my legs. The dual stimulation of touching myself while watching him is overwhelming. Heat builds rapidly in my core, my thighs tensing as I approach the edge.
"Fuck," I gasp as the orgasm hits me, my body shuddering with release, my fingers slick with my own wetness. I pant heavily,coming down from the high but still watching him stroke himself.
"Get on top of me," he says, his voice strained with need.
