Page 59 of Viper’s Reign

The heat in those blue-green eyes does absolutely nothing to slow the hard thump-thump-thump in my ears.

Then Arie steps to the foot of the bed, positioning herself squarely between us with her hands spread. “You can’t be in here, Dima. No matter what she did, she still deserves her privacy and dignity.”

I take the opening to arrange the covers properly around myself and take a steadying breath.

Dimitri makes a low sound in his throat, then walks past her like she’s a minor inconvenience. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He lifts his brow. “Isn’t that right, solnyshko?”

I clear my throat and give Arie a subtle shake of my head—let it go. He won’t leave unless he wants to—and she reads it, exhaling slowly through her nose.

“She was dehydrated. A few days longer in those conditions and she’d have passed out,” Arie says, the censure in her voice unmistakable as she goes to pick up her bag.

A shadow passes across Dimitri’s face, his jaw ticking once. “That will be rectified.” Then, without so much as a pause, “I want you to get her on birth control.”

“What!?” I sit up so fast the covers slip down my body. He takes in my chest, and my nipples tighten, the traitors. I yank the covers back up with a glare. What does he mean by putting me on birth control? What the hell is he thinking?

He doesn’t even acknowledge my reaction, already turning back to Arie. “Do it now. I assume you have something in that big bag of yours.”

Arie’s lips twist as she thinks for a second, then she nods. “As a matter of fact, I do. But I won’t administer anything without the patient’s consent.”

Both sets of eyes swing to me, and the weight of that combined attention sends my pulse spiking again.

Birth control isn’t a bad idea—not after the close calls we’ve already had—but his timing feels suspicious. He hasn’t said a single word about the injection I gave him, and now he’s talking about birth control like we’re going to continue where we left off before he almost died and I ended up imprisoned? This isn’t right. Surely he’s mad at me for what I did? I was bracing for rage. So what the hell is this?

“Well?” Dimitri prompts, impatient now. “Are you consenting, or are you getting pregnant?”

I choke on air and start coughing, cheeks heating with embarrassment and a sensation dangerously close to arousal at how blunt he is. Arie is studiously examining the contents of her bag. “Fine,” I mutter. “Let’s do it.”

She sets out her options on the desk—pill pack, injection, a Skyla IUD.

“The IUD, please.” Whatever Dimitri’s reasons are, I’m not going to be managing a pill schedule or tracking injection windows in a house I can’t leave freely. Three years of coverage and no daily maintenance is the only logical choice here.

She nods, then moves to the foot of the bed, pulling on sterile gloves. Dimitri stays where he is, a few feet away, eyes locked on me with that intense, unblinking stare that makes my skin prickle. The weight of it feels like a physical touch, heavy enough that I start sweating despite the cool, conditioned air.

Arie glances at him, her expression professional but firm. “Could you step out for the insertion, Dima? It’s a more… intimate procedure.”

He crosses his arms over his broad chest, jaw set with his determination. “No. I’m staying.” His low voice carries a possessive note that sends a flutter through my stomach—part discomfort, because I still don’t know what his intentions are, and part heat, a remnant of our time together.

She presses her lips together and sighs, then turns back to me with a look that says I tried. “Alright, Grace. I’ll start now. Breathe and stay as relaxed as you can.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m going to have to lift the covers.”

The words come soft, almost apologetic, but my heart still kicks wildly as she draws them up to my waist, leaving me bare from the hips down, my pussy fully exposed to the room’s air—and to Dimitri’s rapt attention.

My cheeks flush hotter under his scrutiny, and I clench my fists at my sides, trying to ignore the way my body responds, trying to ignore the insistent throb building between my legs, the wetness already coating my folds.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to think pure thoughts—snowy landscapes, quiet forests, waves crashing along the beach, anything but him.

Firm hands settle on my inner thighs, guiding them wider, spreading me open for the procedure. The position leaves me utterly helpless, my folds splayed, and Dimitri is seeing all of it—every inch of me, the way my clit peeks out and swells against my will, the wetness. That part embarrasses me the most. Who the hell gets aroused in a situation like this?

The speculum presses cool against my entrance as Arie eases it in, the metal arms expanding to hold my walls apart, stretching me wide. A little shiver runs through me at the sudden invasion, the sharp spike of vulnerability at how exposed I am under the bright light she turned on.

I open my eyes, risking a glance at Dimitri. His gaze lifts from my exposed pussy to meet mine, and my heart leaps. His eyes have gone dark, filled with a hunger that seems to simmer beneath restraint. He licks his lips slowly, and more wetness seeps out of me in response.

My eyes squeeze shut again, my face burning as mortification swallows me whole.

“You’re doing well, Grace,” Arie says, and whether she means the procedure or the general situation of being stared at by Dimitri Petrov, I couldn’t say.

How am I ever going to look her in the eyes again after today?

23