Page 87 of Viper’s Reign

Heat pours off him, and I feel his cock, rock-hard and thick, pressing right into my belly through his pants. “Is my girl feeling needy today?” he whispers warmly against my skin.

Every argument I had dissolves at once. I moan—I can’t help it—and roll my hips against the hard length trapped behind his zipper. The friction sends sparks racing through me, shifting the dildo enough to make my breath hitch.

“I’ve been going crazy,” I gasp. “I got so dizzy Anya thought I was sick. She left for a few minutes to get me medication this afternoon, and I started humping the pillow like a fucking animal in heat.”

A groan rumbles through his chest. “That’s so hot. I’d kill to see that.” He lowers his head, brushing his lips against my neck. His breath is hot, his stubble scraping deliciously over my skin as he nuzzles closer.

I moan again, tilting my head to give him more access. “Get this thing off me. Right now. Then make me come.”

“Are you ready to cooperate?” His hand slides up my side, thumb grazing the underside of my breast.

Yes! I scream in my head, desperation clawing at me until the words spill out in a rush. “I don’t know who the real mastermind is. But I can recognize the man he sent if I see his picture. But he has my friend, and he threatened to kill her if I⁠—”

His mouth crashes into mine, swallowing the rest of my words. The kiss is frantic, like he’s been starving and I’m the first meal he’s had in weeks. His palm wraps around my throat, squeezing enough to make my pulse hammer under his fingers. As the kiss deepens, his tongue drives into my mouth, and my toes curl against the cool floor while pleasure shoots straight to my core, making my pussy flood around the vibrator.

When he finally tears his mouth from mine, his eyes are dark with hunger, fixed on me like he can’t decide what he wants first. He yanks the key from around his neck. Then he’s on his knees in front of me, shoving the skirt of my dress up my thighs. “Hold it,” he commands, voice rough with restraint.

I gather the fabric around my waist with trembling hands, shivering as cool air brushes over my bare skin. He fiddles with the lock, every tiny metallic scrape stretching my nerves tighter. Then he starts lowering the belt, dragging the dildo out of me inch by agonizing inch.

It slips free with a wet slide, my walls gripping it desperately, and we both groan—mine long and broken. My head thumps back against the door, neck going weak, the sudden emptiness after a day of fullness, its own specific torment.

“You’re fucking drenched,” he says, voice stripped raw as he fixes on the wet mess between my legs, the glistening dildo in his hand forgotten as he licks his lips.

Then he tosses the belt aside and surges to his feet, scooping me effortlessly into his arms in the same motion. My legs wrap around him instinctively as he carries me deeper into the room before dumping me onto the bed.

My body bounces on the mattress for a charged moment, and then he’s on me. His hands are everywhere, yanking my dress over my head, peeling off my bra and panties. And in seconds, I’m naked beneath him, skin prickling, begging for his attention.

Reading my mind, he dives down and latches onto one nipple, sucking hard. The sharp pull shoots straight to my clit, and I moan long and loud, fingers sinking into his hair, gripping tight to hold him there.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Dimitri. Give me what I want. What we both want.” I wrap my legs around his hips, rocking against him, feeling his cock strain through his pants.

He groans around my nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before he switches to the other, sucking it just as roughly.

“Now,” I groan, grinding harder against his cock, gasping as heat flashes through my body.

He releases my breast with a pop, then grips my legs and pulls them off his hips until I’m lying flat on the bed, legs spread wide.

Once he’s satisfied I’m staying put, his hands move to his waist. His belt clinks open, and with one practiced motion, he undoes the button of his pants and shoves them down, allowing his cock to spring free, thick and flushed, the broad head leaking precum that smears across my skin as he positions himself. My mouth waters at the sight, and I spread my legs even wider in invitation.

A raw, guttural noise tears from him as he notches his hard length at my entrance before driving into me in one powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt. My body lights up, and I throw my head back, skull digging into the mattress as I moan.

But he’s not done with me. One hand cups my tit, squeezing, while the other presses firmly on my lower belly—right above where his cock is stretching me. The added pressure pushes me straight over the edge. My body seizes, walls clamping down as wave after wave crashes through me.

The moans won’t stop. They spill from my lips unchecked while pleasure drowns out every coherent thought. Through it all, he keeps driving into me, each thrust feeding the orgasm until I don’t know where one wave ends and the next begins.

Only then does his rhythm begin to unravel. His thrusts turn rougher, harder, and then he comes too, groaning my name as hot spurts flood deep inside me. My entire body tingles, my pussy fluttering around him with aftershocks.

Afterwards, all I can do is lie there, completely boneless, chest heaving.

I blink through the lingering haze and catch Dimitri staring down at me. His face is still twisted with lust, eyes dark and fixed on mine. That’s when it hits me—he came, but his cock is still rock hard, throbbing inside my pussy as he stretches me full.

“I’m not done with you, solnyshko,” he says, the promise in his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

My core tightens instinctively around him, and his eyes squeeze shut as he groans deep in his throat. Then he pulls out abruptly, the slide slick with our cum, leaving me empty and aching.

I barely have a second to register it before his hands are on my hips, flipping me over until I’m face down with my ass up. Warm, callused palms roam over my ass cheeks, giving them an appreciative squeeze, then one trails down to my opening, fingers dipping into the mess where our mixed release leaks out.

He drags those fingers up my inner thigh, scooping up the sticky trails, and thrusts them back into me. “This belongs inside you,” he rasps.