Page 28 of Viper's Desire
“I remember.”
I laugh. “How’d that work out for you?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s not in the mood to joke with me.
So, I tell him straight. “I’m staying, Tanner. Ask me again, and I’ll say it slower.”
He crosses the room before the sentence is all the way out of my mouth.
There’s no gentleness in his actions.
His hand closes in my hair, and his mouth comes down on mine hard enough to tip my head against his palm.
Relief floods through me. He had a hard day. I want to take it from him.
He walks me backward until the dresser stops us. The lamp rattles. His hands drop to my thighs, and he lifts me onto the wood without effort, wedging himself between my knees.
I pull at his cut until he shrugs it off and sets it on the dresser next to us.
“Eden,” he murmurs against my throat.
“Don’t be careful with me tonight,” I say. “I want it rough.”
His smile is dark. Wicked.
He drags my dress up and over my head, and his mouth is on my breast before the cotton lands on the floor.
No patience.
His hands are everywhere. Teeth, tongue, and the scrape of his beard move across my body.
I arch into it with my fingers in his hair, holding him there. He pulls me to the edge of the dresser, and his palm presses flat between my legs, over the damp cotton, and we both make a sound at what he finds.
“I need you,” he says, rough.
“I need you, too.”
My panties don’t survive. The seam gives with a small tearing sound, but I don’t care. Two fingers slide into me, and my head drops against the mirror behind me.
He pumps them with no buildup, knuckles deep, his thumb hard on my clit. His eyes are on my face the whole time.
I’m soaked and riding his hand without one ounce of shame, and when the tension begins to coil inside of me, I grab his wrist.
“I want to come with you inside of me,” I breathe out between kisses.
He lifts me off the dresser, and we make it to the bed in three steps. I land on the mattress, and he undresses—shirt over his head, belt, boots, jeans, and boxers.
No condom this time. We had the conversation—the pill, the bloodwork, and the trust.
He plants my palms on the headboard rails. “Hands here.”
I hold on.
He pushes into me in one fast, long stroke, and my body takes him.
Without giving me time to adjust, he thrusts relentlessly.
His hips snap into mine, the headboard knocks against the wall, and his hand cinches my thigh up around his waist. The angle is so deep that I cry out, relishing the sensation.
