Page 47 of The Vipers and Their Venom

No, he’s not going to hurt me.

Well, he might imply that, but perhaps that’s just because he doesn’t want me to run. Not that I’m much of a runner.

I force myself to be brave. “Wh-what happened to your hands?”

There’s pain in his eyes, and he glances away, as though he doesn’t want me to see it. I pick up a couple of napkins and a bottle of water. “Come here,” I say.

I must be crazy. He’s like a wild animal, and I’m trying to tame him.

But he drops to the ground beside me, his head hung. Cords stand out on his thick neck, running down to his muscular shoulders. I resist the urge to place my hand against his nape, to rub the knots and try to loosen them. Instead, I hold out my hand.

He glances at my offered palm, and then turns to look into my face. It’s so hard to read him. I can’t tell if he’s thinking of hurting me or fucking me. Or maybe both.

“Give me your hand,” I say.

Carefully, he places his large palm in mine. I pick up the open bottle and tip it so the water runs over his knuckles, washing away some of the blood. He sucks air in over his teeth and goes to pull away, but I close my fingers around his, holding him in place. When the worst of the blood has been washed away, I use a clean napkin to press to the cuts and grazes.

“There, better. Now give me the other one.”

He shifts his position slightly and does as I ask. I repeat the process, working carefully. The watered down blood runs onto the grass and vanishes into the dirt. He stares at me the entire time, his study intense.

I cover his knuckles with another napkin. “How’s that?”

He doesn’t respond, just sits there, staring at me. My breath catches, my pulse racing. I’m unsure what I’m supposed to do.

But then he yanks his hand away, and the next moment it’s in my hair. He drags me to him, not giving me the chance to protest, and covers my mouth with his. He uses his size and strength to push me onto my back, and then he eclipses the blue sky with the bulk of his body.

His tongue is in my mouth, hungrily seeking mine. I respond, kissing him back. We’re both breathing heavily, exchanging a war of frantic kisses and bites. My hands have a mind of their own, raking down his muscular back and threading through his soft hair. I’d been worried about him being angry with me, but this is the complete opposite of him being angry.

He presses himself between my thighs, and I feel the hardness of his cock, grinding against my most sensitive spot. I’m still aching from the previous evening, and my body lights up. Fuck, I want him.

But we’re out in the open, and it’s the middle of the day, and anyone could see us.

This doesn’t seem to bother Zane in the slightest.

His lips move across my jaw and down my throat. He releases my hair to palm my breast, first over the top of my shirt, but then he reaches beneath it, shoving my bra up to give him access. He pulls up my top and ducks his head, sucking first one nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, and lightly biting, before moving on to my other tit and replacing his mouth with his hand. I arch my back, pressing into him and moaning. What the fuck am I doing? I should push him off, but Christ, he feels good.

He moves back up my body to kiss me again, and so he can push his jean-clad cock against the juncture of my thighs. We rub and grind, and all I can think about is how big he is, and what he’ll feel like inside me. Will I even be able to take him? I know we’re supposed to be able to stretch down there, but I’ve never had more than some fingers and tampons inside me. I haven’t even been brave enough to insert a toy, and the thought of my first time being with someone of his size is borderline terrifying. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, and it’s not like he can even talk me through it.

I’d need Lex here for that.

The thought of the other two brings me around for a moment. It’s enough clarity to make me break the kiss. I place my hand to the bulk of his shoulder and give him a shove.

“Zane, stop. Not here. Not like this.”

He lifts his head and glares down at me. Then he arches his hips, pushing his hardness against me again, and sends a shot of arousal straight to my core. I let out a half sob of needy desire. A smile curls one corner of his lips, like he already knows he’s won.

“No,” I say again.

He tilts his body, as though he’s about to climb off me, but instead of rolling to one side, he props himself on his elbow and slides his other hand across my stomach and into the waistband of my pants.

No?he mouths at me, his eyebrows raised.

I groan, and his hand slips lower. He ducks his head again, and this time kisses my neck. His hand slides beneath the lace of my panties, and, despite what I’ve said, I adjust my body to make space for him.

Am I really going to let him make me come out here where anyone could see? Yeah, I’m too far gone now. I need this.

He pushes his fingers inside me, curling them to hit that sensitive spot.

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