Page 20 of The Vipers' Vow

“Okay, Zane,” she shouts from inside with a laugh. “Hold your horses.”

She swings open the door, and her smile fades. What the hell? She was eager to see him but not me? It lights something in me, an angry fire, and I push her inside the room. Her mouth opens in a perfect O of surprise and snaps shut again as I advance on her.

“Saint?” she says, unsure.

“You’re going away,” I say.

Her brow furrows. “Well, yes, I mean, for a night…”

“And Lex is missing. Zane is going too. I’ve got shit on my mind.” I don’t tell her what Angelica wants because that’s a whole other conversation, and I still haven’t decided what to do about it yet. “I feel … I need …”

She sighs and puts her hand on my chest, over my heart, the heat of her palm feeling good through my shirt. “What do you need, Saint?”

“You.”

She nods, just once, but it’s more than enough of a green light for me. It won’t be a seduction, and this time it won’t be a degradation. They need to get going, and I need to try to get my head on right to see Angelica, but we can have this stolen moment.

A stolen, fast, dirty fuck. Something we’ve never really done before.

“Are you wet?” I demand.

“Always around you,” she says, staring up at me with those huge, dark eyes fringed with long, black lashes.

Does she mean me solo, or does she mean to include all three of us? Maybe she’s wet at the idea of walking into her father’s territory with Zane at her side, but right now I don’t care what the reason is. I’m just grateful she is, because I need to be inside her.

I rip her shirt right down the middle, buttons pinging everywhere, and she gasps. “Saint, I just changed.”

“Change again, when we’re done,” I growl. Then, because I can’t resist just a touch of degradation, I add, “Unless you want to walk in like this, looking like a whore.” I pull her bra down, so her plump, full tits are pushed up on top of it, her fat nipples half out, making me almost drool.

Christ, I’d have her nipples as my last meal if I was on death row.

“I’m supposed to meet—” she protests, but her words cut off when I duck my head to cover her nipple with my mouth.

I lightly bite it, and she lets out a squeak.

“Stay away from those bikers,” I command. “I don’t want to hear of any of them pawing their filthy hands all over you.”

“No one is going to touch me, Saint. They wouldn’t dare.”

I bite her nipple again and then move to the other one.

“They’d better not. You’re ours.”

“Yours,” she says on an exhale.

She lifts one hand to lace it through my hair as I feast on her tits. Her breathing grows ragged, and she arches her back to me, pushing her breasts into my face.

She’s wearing leather pants, and fuck, they look sexy. But they’re going to hinder my access to her.

I’d brought her a gift before I knew any of this would happen, and now I want her to wear it while she’s away from me. I want to be on her mind the entire time we’re apart.

I pop the button on her leather pants and push her backward, toward the bed. She lands on the mattress with a thump.

“Saint!” she protests.

“Stop talking.”

I yank the leather down her curvy thighs. She’d not had time to put on her boots yet, so I pull her pants over her feet with ease, leaving her in only her panties, her torn shirt, and pulled-down bra. She looks like sex personified, her deep brown tresses spilling over her shoulders, her full lips parted, and her tits heaving. I’m already hard, but my cock jumps in my pants, as though it knows what’s coming and is eager to be released.

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