Page 18 of The Vipers and Their Vendetta

Did she think she could save him? Saint will lose his shit if she says that to him. The man has more ego than a rockstar, and he’s a damn Marseille gangster. He’s not going to take kindly to Vani thinking she had to go back and rescue him.

I can’t help but smile at the thought. She’s so damn cute, even if she is really careless of her safety at times. I need to taste her. She’s still standing against the car, and she stares at me, biting her bottom lip. The last bit of restraint I have unravels at that gesture, and I cup her cheeks in my palms.

She freezes.

“Get off me, Zane,” she protests, but there’s no power in her voice.

I don’t hesitate. I bend down and take her mouth in a fevered kiss. She tenses, and her hands come up to push against my chest, but she moans as I lick at her lips.

Then her hands curl, and she’s fisting my shirt instead of pushing me away. She might say she hates us, but she doesn’t, not really. The same way we don’t hate her, despite what we tell ourselves.

We’ve started something dark and dangerous, and it’s not going to go easily back in its bottle now we’ve let it out.

She parts her lips, and I take advantage, pushing my way into her mouth. A shudder wracks me at the perfection of her taste, the ecstasy of her warmth and softness in my arms. The rightness of her scent that still lingers beneath all the ointments and oils and herbs the damned Preachers must have used on her. I twist my hands in her hair and pull tight, angling her head the way I want it.

She’s making little noises, like a cat purring for me. I push my thigh between her legs and grab her ass as I pull her against me, jamming her pussy against the hard muscles of my thigh.

I rub my leg against her core, trapping her between me and the car. Anyone could see us, if there were anybody about, but the road is straight here, and I’d spot headlights way before they saw us. Using my hold on her ass, I yank her harder against my thigh. I bite her lower lip, and suck the plump softness into my mouth, soothing it.

She gets the memo and writhes against me, her pussy rubbing against my hard thigh as she takes what she needs. Her breathing grows short and raspy, and sexy little whimpers escape her.

I break off from kissing her mouth to bite at her throat.

“I fucking hate you, Zane,” she pants.

I pull my mouth from her and sign,Me too.

She won’t understand, and I mean I hate me, as well, not her. I’m fucking livid at her, and I want to turn her juicy ass red. But I don’t hate her. I’m not sure I could ever hate her.

“Oh, shit,” she moans. “Oh, Zane.”

I clasp her face in both of my hands and hold it so her gaze is trapped in mine. I want to see every moment of this.

She shakes her head as if trying to free herself, but I pin her still and nod. I rub her pussy with my leg, determined to watch her. For the briefest of seconds, she resists, but then she grinds against me, her beautiful lips parting as she sucks in desperate gasps. I want to inhale every breath she releases, living only on the oxygen she spares me. My cock is rock hard and looks like I’ve stuffed something down my jeans, but I know it’s all real. I’m tempted to shift her over from my thigh to my dick, but I know if I do, I won’t be able to watch her come the way I want. I’ll be too distracted by chasing my own orgasm to memorize every hot little moment.

I wish I could murmur praise in her ear like Lex does or tell her how I want her to be my little slut, like Saint. When the three of us are together, they become my voices, but here, just her and me, we have to make out in near silence.

Does she find it strange that I can’t tell her how turned on she makes me? Or when I climax, it’s with a silent gasp?

Her hips buck and grind, our movements getting faster. Her big tits bounce, so white and creamy against her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. I duck my head further to bite the top of one, leaving an imprint of teeth marks. She gasps and groans in response.

Fuck, I’m so close. I’m sure I’ll have left a damp spot on the inside of my jeans—I’m not wearing any underwear. I’m so tempted to turn her around and fuck her hard, but I’m still focused on her beautiful face and the myriad of emotions traveling across it.

She sucks in a short breath, holds it, releases it, and then does the same again, on the exhale of her third breath, she cries out and buckles over. Her body shudders, and she lets out a sob.

Coming against my leg, out in the open, like a bitch in heat, she’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.

When it subsides, she falls against the car. Desperately needing to taste her, I push my fingers into her jeans and inside her panties. I part her folds and swipe some of her wetness onto my hand. Pulling it free, I bring my fingers to my mouth, and, holding her gaze, I lick her from me. God, I need to fuck her, but I don’t know how much time we’ll have.

Besides, I’d need to prepare her to take my size.

Instead, I push her to her knees in the dirt.

“Zane…” she starts.

I don’t give her time to finish. I unzip myself and haul out my huge erection. The tip is dark red and shiny in the moonlight, the length ridged with veins. I stroke myself a couple of times and then press myself to her lips.

She gazes up at me, her eyes wide and wet, and then parts her lips.

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