Page 92 of The Viper
"You want to sleep?" I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes darkening as she looked at me. "No," she said, her voice low. "I don't know if it was the professionalism of that war room or meeting the wives and girlfriends, but I want to pretend, just for a few minutes, that we live here. That this is normal."
Normal.
The word hung between us, heavy with what it meant.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, though I could see the heat in her eyes, the way her body shifted closer.
She stood, her fingers trailing down my arm. "Isn't it obvious?" she said, her voice a whisper as she reached for the hem of her shirt.
She pulled it over her head in one slow motion, and my breath caught.
She was bare underneath, her skin golden in the morning light filtering through the curtains. She didn't stop there—her pants followed, sliding down her legs, revealing every curve. She stood there, naked and unashamed, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to join her.
I rose, already hardening at the sight of her. I stripped quickly, my shirt hitting the floor, jeans following, until I was as bare as she was.
She stepped closer, her hands on my chest, tracing the lines of muscle, her touch igniting fire in my veins. I pulled her against me, our bodies pressing together, skin to skin, the heat between us building.
I kissed her then, hard and deep, my tongue claiming her mouth, tasting her. She moaned into the kiss, her hands roaming my back, nails digging in as she pulled me closer.
I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carried her to the window, pressing her against the glass, the cool surface a contrast to the heat of our bodies. She gasped at the sensation, her back arching.
I thrust into her there, standing, her weight supported by my arms and the window, the angle allowing me to go deep. She was slick, wet, her body gripping me tight as I moved, the glass fogging around her from our breath and heat.
Her nails scraped my shoulders, her head falling back against the pane, exposing her throat for me to bite and suck.
"Yes, Lucas," she gasped, her legs tightening around me, pulling me deeper.
I spun us, laying her on the floor, the carpet soft beneath her. I pulled out, flipping her onto her stomach, lifting her hips. I went down on her from behind, savoring every lick until her legs trembled. Then, I entered her from behind, leaning over her, my chest against her back, my hand sliding under her to find her pussy as I thrust slow and deep.
She pushed back against me, meeting every movement, her moans muffled by the carpet.
I pulled her up to her knees, my arm around her waist, holding her against me as I thrust up into her, the angle hitting different. She reached back, her hand in my hair, pulling me down for a kiss over her shoulder, our bodies moving in sync.
My two fingers found her clit, rubbing on either side as I thrust, the dual sensation making her shake.
She came hard, her body convulsing around me, her cries filling the room.
I didn't stop, flipping her onto her back, spreading her legs wide, hooking one over my shoulder to change the angle, thrusting deep and slow, savoring the way she clenched around me.
Her hands roamed my body, tracing the muscles of my chest, my abs, down to where we were joined, her fingers brushing as I moved, gripping the base of my cock. The sensation was intense, sending jolts through me, and I groaned, thrusting harder.
I pulled out, lifting her legs to my shoulders, entering her again, the angle deep. She screamed, her body arching, her hands gripping the carpet as I pounded into her, the rhythm fast and unrelenting.
She came again, her body clenching around me, and I followed, spilling inside her, the release so intense it left me shaking.
We lay there, tangled and sweaty, our breaths ragged, the room smelling of sex and salt air drifting through the cracked window.
I held her close, my arm around her, her head on my chest, and for a moment, the world felt right.
But the storm in my head was still there—the secrets, the choices, the pull of family and duty.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing, no closer to a decision than I had been that morning.
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