Page 25 of Viper’s Reign

His arm snakes around my waist and I fold into the solid warmth of his chest.

“I gave you this morning to rest,” he continues, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through his chest into mine. His warm breath skims the nape of my neck, and then that large hand on my waist slides lower, deliberate and unhurried, until his palm cups my pussy through the fabric of his pants.

The pressure is immediate, possessive, his fingers splaying wide to claim every inch. I close my eyes to feel it all.

“Today, you’re mine. All. Mine.” He presses harder, grinding the heel of his palm right over my clit in slow, firm circles. “Today, I give you your sea legs.”

The friction sparks white-hot pleasure, my swollen nub pulsing under the soft fabric, and I can’t hold back the groan that tears from my throat.

“Dimitri.”

His chuckle is dark, satisfied, as he nuzzles closer, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Do you think anyone’s watching?” He drops his head to my neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin as he speaks. “Would you like them to?”

The words send a thrill of danger twisting through my gut, my heart pounding harder. I force my eyes open and stare out at the water. Up ahead, a ferry cuts through the waves, growing steadily closer, its decks dotted with people lounging in the sun, oblivious or not.

Before I can answer, Dimitri’s hand dives into the open front of his pants I’m wearing, his fingers slipping past the waistband and straight into my soaked folds. No panties to hinder him—just my bare, dripping pussy welcoming the intrusion.

He teases my entrance at first, tracing the slick lips with two thick digits and coating them in my arousal before pushing inside, stretching my walls with a deliberate curl. At the same time, his other hand snakes under the hem of the baggy shirt, shoving it up to expose my breasts to the open air. His palm covers one, fingers pinching and rolling my hard nipple between them, tugging hard enough to make me arch back against his cock.

He sucks at my throat, his mouth hot and wet, teeth grazing the skin as his fingers begin to pump in and out of me—slow, deep thrusts that hit every sensitive spot inside. Waves crash against the bow, and I grip the helm’s edge for support, my knuckles whitening. The ferry edges closer, its windows glinting in the sunlight, and the risk of being seen only makes my clit throb harder. Oh God, am I an exhibitionist?

“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” Dimitri growls against my skin, twisting deeper, his thumb now pressing down on my clit from the outside, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. “Your body was made for me. So fucking responsive. You know why?”

All I manage is a whimper, too consumed by the hot pleasure building low in my belly, my hips bucking back against his hand involuntarily. My pussy clenches around his invading fingers as he scissors them wider, preparing me, owning me.

“Because you’re fucking mine. Moyo.” The endearment hits me like a spark, possessive and raw, then he curls his fingers, brushing them right against my G-spot with unerring precision. At the same instant, his teeth sink into my neck—not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a mark. The sharp bite sends pain-laced ecstasy exploding through my nerves, and I unravel.

The orgasm rips through me like a storm, my walls spasming wildly around his pumping digits, fluttering and squeezing as hot waves of pleasure crash over me. I scream his name, the sound echoing inside the helm station as I convulse so hard I nearly pitch forward over the console. But his grip is firm, his arm an iron band around my waist, holding me upright as my legs turn to jelly, my release gushing over his hand in relentless surges.

When the stars behind my eyelids finally fade, I open my eyes, gasping for air. The ferry is passing by us now, so close I can make out individual faces—tourists sipping drinks, chatting, gazing out toward the horizon.

Did they see us?

The thought of them witnessing Dimitri’s fingers buried deep inside me, my shirt rucked up with my tits on display, my face flushed and wrecked… it makes my pussy clench again, a fresh current of want moving through me.

Dimitri groans low in his throat, feeling the squeeze, his cock jerking against my back.

“What are you thinking?” His voice is rough at my ear, fingers slowing but not withdrawing, keeping me pinned on the edge of overstimulation.

I bite my lip, turning my head to meet eyes blazing with wild hunger. “Them… seeing us. Seeing you fuck me with your fingers right here.” The admission heats my cheeks, but it also makes me wetter.

His grin turns feral, possessive, as he withdraws his hand and brings his glistening fingers to my lips. “Then let them see. Now, suck.”

He traces the wetness over my lower lip, painting me with it, then pushes inside, making me taste my own cum. I suck his fingers clean, swirling my tongue around them, and the ragged breath it pulls from him is its own reward.

Emboldened, I twist in his loose hold, my hands slipping into the open V of his shirt through the undone buttons. My palms glide over his hard, bronzed chest, the muscles flexing under my touch—solid ridges of pecs and abs I couldn’t fully appreciate last night between the haze of my first time and the fact that he never took his shirt off.

I trace the dark ink etched into his skin, intricate lines of black that seem to shift with every breath he takes.

Drawn in, I press my mouth to his throat, lips parting to flick my tongue against the corded muscle there. He tastes slightly tangy, a mix of sea air and raw masculinity that hits me like a drug. I moan low against his skin as I lick a slow path up to his jaw, savoring the way his pulse jumps under my tongue.

His fingers sink into my hair, gripping the back of my head and tipping my mouth up to his. The kiss is hungry, devouring—his tongue thrusting in and out with a rhythm that mimics exactly what I crave, deep and insistent, claiming every inch of space.

My breath stutters as I try to keep up, my own tongue tentatively brushing against his. He catches it without pause, sucking it deeper into his mouth with a wet, possessive suction that has my eyes rolling back and pleasure shooting straight to my core.

I clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric as the sensation hits too hard, too fast.

His hands drop to my ass, and in one fluid motion, he lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. The kiss doesn’t break, not even for a second. If anything, it turns messier, rougher, our tongues battling in a slick, heated dance as he carries me out of the helm station. The breeze rushes over us, cooler now on the open main deck, but his body shields most of it, trapping all that scorching heat between us. He sets me onto my feet near one of the plush sofas, the impact jarring but exciting, my legs still a little shaky from my orgasm.