Viper

by Marata Eros

  Candice springs up inside my head again. That bitch is relentless. At least, the memory of her is. If I spend too much time thinking about her, I'll have to jerk off. Already half-hard as it is.

  Not doing that bullshit.

  I finish up fast then get out, yanking a towel off a solid chrome towel hook.

  Drying off, I cast a lustful glance up the stairs to where I know there's a beer waiting with my name on it.

  The hell with carbs, I think, trudging up the stairs. I get to the top and hear gravel crunching.

  I still, cocking my head and trying to identify a vehicle—bike—whatever. What the fuck?

  Riders are riding, banging club whores, or getting tossed at the club.

  I wanted some peace, and nobody better be fucking with my pie slice of quiet.

  Tucking the towel into itself at my hip, I open the door and peer out.

  Don't know the car, so I shut the door and walk to an old chest on the mantel above the river-rock hearth running the length of the wall. Opening the lid, I extract the gun then stalk back to the door.

  Flipping the latch again, I jerk the thing wide, wearing nothing but my towel, and a piece in my hand.

  Candice is standing there with her hand raised. Poised to knock, I think.

  Slowly, her hand drops as she takes in my state of undress and the gun.

  We stare at each other for a solid minute, and my dick comes to life again.

  Swell.

  “Are you going to shoot me?” she asks softly, pure golden eyes melting me like molten fire.

  No. But I want to fuck her. My cock's all about that. “No,” I croak, clear my throat, and try again. “What do you want, Candice? Thought you made things clear that we weren't doing this.”

  “It wasn't clear to me,” she says, and with one hand, she jerks the towel from my hips.

  Boner goes full tilt.

  I pull her into the house and kick the door shut.

  Chapter 24

  Candice

  I meant to talk. I really, really did.

  Then I saw him there with only a towel and a gun in one hand, water dripping down his muscular body.

  My hungry eyes eat up Viper's form. Mature, deadly, tender. He's all the stuff a man should be.

  All the man I want him to be.

  He’s nothing like the horror show of an example from my childhood, but he’s all that I dreamed could possibly exist.

  The president of an MC has me in the palm of his hand like a fragile dove.

  Will he release me... or keep me close?

  I would have liked to sort those questions out and do the rational thing—close the “loops” as I intended. Instead, that bitch instalust has me by the clit, and with a shameless, throbbing intensity, she won't let go.

  And I don't want her to.

  The mistress of my libido carries me away as I strip Viper of his towel, and he stands, legs planted wide, wearing a giant erection and nothing else.

  He grabs my hand and hauls me inside, kicking the door shut.

  Viper's intense aqua gaze holds me hostage. “What are you fucking doing here, Candice?”

  I'm breathless but manage, “Hopefully, everything.”

  “Dammit,” Viper sets the gun on the windowsill next to the door and moves me against the solid wood with a press of hips.

  His body flattens mine, heavy arms caging my head, and my breasts smoosh against his chest.

  “Do you want this?”

  I nod. God help me, I do. “I thought we'd talk,” I say vaguely, heart in my throat and panties damp with anticipation.

  “You fucked that idea at hello,” he growls.

  “Yeah.” My voice is breathy.

  “We can talk later.” Dipping his head, he slides his hands from the wood of the door to cradle my face.

  The intensity in his eyes makes me think he'll bruise my lips, but Viper doesn't. His feather-light kiss is like a delicate promise to plunder. Sipping, pecking, Viper finally licks the seam, and I open my mouth. Our tongues twine as my hands find his short hair. Grabbing what I can of the short strands, I pull down hard, and his head jerks back, looking down at me.

  “You like it rough?”

  My fingers tighten inside the blunt strands. “Only with you.”

  He sighs, pressing his forehead against mine as my fingers stay buried in his thick hair.

  “You spur a man on with your actions, Candice.”

  “I trust you. That's why I can. Why I'm free.”

  Viper opens his eyes, and a trick of low light, or not enough, makes the irises so translucent, they could be any color or none.

  “I told you...”

  He kisses me, and my breath stops.

  “I'm fucked up.”

  Viper kisses me again and again. Heat and lust collide, but I have the last word before there's none left.

  “But I think we're the same.”

  He shakes his head. “That's where you're wrong. I'm just the brand of fucked up you need—to be with me.”

  Viper gets me. Gets us. What we need to be to each other.

  I gasp when his hands cup my ass and lift. He splits me between my legs with his cock, our eyes intimately level.

  “Rib?” he asks, going back to licking and pecking my neck.

  “Better.” I suck in a breath when he nips the tender skin between my earlobe and collarbone.

  My head falls back, gently tapping the door. With a sigh, I grant him better access as he sucks my throat. Pain and pleasure mix with perfect synchronicity, and when I think I can't stand another moment—and want even more of the same exquisite torture—Viper releases the suction, staring into my eyes from inches away. I like a man that asks permission when my body is already screaming yes, which he silently does so well.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  Opening his thighs, he rests me on them, and with both hands, he grasps my button-up blouse. With a mighty jerk, he tears the cloth apart, yanking my body and sending buttons flying. I cry out.

  His eyes fly to my face. “Tell me I didn't hurt you.”

  I shake my head, so excited, I can't speak. Breathe.

  “Good.” My short skirt gets hiked.

  I’m wearing only a G-string, and when he notices, Viper says in a hoarse voice, “Christ, Candice.”

  My pussy floods with moisture.

  He slides down my body, spreading and pinning my thighs wide against the door.

  The heat of his breath bathes my entrance.

  “Oh my God!” I say, grabbing onto his hair as his deft finger moves the tiny string aside.

  Then Viper's at my center, digging in.

  “Ah!” I shout as his tongue finds my heat, lapping and stroking.

  I'm helpless but not vulnerable.

  His hands are gentle on my flesh as his tongue lashes my clit, circling my labia relentlessly over and over again, pausing only to suck my clit then moving again.

  “Close,” I breathe the word.

  His pale-blue eyes roll to mine.

  Shifting his weight, Viper plants a shoulder under one of my thighs, prying me even wider while supporting my weight.

  “What?” I look down in a daze, hands loose on the top of his head.

  One blue eye looks up at me, tongue hovering over my spread entrance.

  Letting me slide down so that one of my legs rests against his propped knee, he moves his free hand between my legs.

  Holding my gaze, Viper slowly puts two fingers inside me, sliding deep into my wetness. At the same time, he flattens his tongue on my clit.

  My body seizes, and a deep warning pulse clenches inside my pussy right before I blow apart with a hoarse shout.

  The sound is half pain, half shock, with pleasure in there somewhere.

  Viper doesn't slow, but when the pulses of my channel subside, he lays off the pressure with his tongue, slowing the pump of his thick fingers deep inside me.

  I sigh as an aftershock ripples through my core, and my thighs quiver.
<
br />   “Oh my God,” I whisper, my fingers falling away from his head.

  He withdraws from me, and while I watch, he looks up at me, licking my juices from his fingers. “Like that?”

  “Huh?” I asked, firmly in stupor-afterglow territory. I've never been with a man who goes down on me like Viper.

  He begins to rise, pulling me with him, and my legs fall together as my knees buckle.

  Viper chuckles, swinging me up into his arms. “Feeling good?”

  I give a languid nod. “Oh yeah.” So, so good.

  He walks, and I go along for the ride. Down familiar stairs. But I won't be tortured this time.

  Unless multiple orgasms are considered torture.

  “No cuffs this time?” The ghost of a smile crosses his face, but I find I'm pretty distracted with the rest of the view.

  “I'll go without for now,” I reply softly, looking up at him from where he laid me down on the bed.

  Looking down at me, Viper grasps my bare ankle and slowly spreads my legs. “But maybe some time.”

  A thrill shoots through me. “Yeah.”

  His cock stands at attention, bobbing as he knee-walks between my legs.

  I roll over, placing my face against the soft sheets. My ass rises as I present myself to him like an offering, whispering “Please.”

  His hand is warm as his fingers travel my spine, caressing each bone. Then he grasps my shoulder, and I feel the head of him at my soaked entrance.

  Wet from his attention and my orgasms.

  I remember how Viper filled me before, and now he does again. He noses into my tightness that first inch then pulls back. Soon Viper is fucking the first third of me, always a sensitive part of my anatomy.

  I feel every ripple as my pussy sucks at his cock.

  “Oh God,” I groan, and he grabs my forearms, moving to the end of me. My face is pressed against the sheets without support, and Viper pulls me backward by my arms, using the leverage to fuck me.

  “Harder,” I say, and it comes out slightly muffled.

  But Viper does something different. Letting go of my arms, he takes my cheeks and puts them on his thighs, drawing me backward until I'm upright, with my back against his chest.

  Bowing me.

  My rib gives a twinge, but I ignore it.

  Taming me with his dick deeply impaled, Viper arches his back and presses upward at the same time with his cock. One arm crossed against by breasts, pinning me against him, he rolls my nipple underneath his fingertips.

  Another orgasm washes through my body like a tidal wave of pleasure, and I yell, involuntarily bucking against him as wave after wave of deep pulses wrack me.

  But his arm is steel against my body, holding me tight like he'll never let me go.

  And somewhere deep down inside of me—where I never go, never examine, and never look—I want him to keep me pinned against him in a forever embrace.

  His pumping begins to speed. “Can't last with your tight cunt milking me,” he rasps.

  I feel him hardening subtly right before hot, wet seed fills me like a soothing balm.

  Connecting me to him.

  I might have just destroyed myself, or I might have found redemption, but as the fire of our mutual orgasm marries our bodies, I've never felt more entangled in my life.

  In the best way possible.

  From the ashes of the worst of circumstances.

  *

  Viper spoons me protectively, finger combing my hair away from my face and tucking it between our bodies.

  “That was perfect,” he says then lightly kisses the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “And I want to do it about another fifty-two times today.” He pauses for a moment, and I laugh softly. “But we have to talk.”

  My good humor fades a little. “Yeah.”

  His voice is somber. “Nothing's funny, Candice.”

  I turn, only showing him half my face because of how we're wrapped up in each other. “I laughed because I can't believe what happened when all I wanted was to tell you...” I roll over a little more, and his hand stops its ceaseless affection.

  Spreading his fingers across my bare stomach, he brands me with his warmth, and our eyes meet. “Shit,” he says, voice shaky. “You affect me. And I shouldn't tell a woman that. There's probably a rule about that somewhere”

  I put my fingers over his lips. “It's okay. I feel exactly the same about you. There's definitely a rule about that.”

  Relief sweeps his face and is gone so quickly, I'm not entirely sure I saw it.

  “I wanted to explain things,” I say, finishing my earlier thought.

  “Like how you're fucking Puck—and me.”

  Viper rolls away from me onto his back, the absence of his touch is a cold void from my flesh.

  He stares at the ceiling.

  “What?” I nearly scream, sitting up and turning to him in one motion.

  Viper's brow calmly ascends.

  “Puck's not—God!” Then I think about it. Looking back on our interaction, I guess our affection could have been misconstrued. I never actually told him what Puck was to me. It was so clear to me who he was.

  Viper sits up on an elbow. “What do you mean ‘what’? It's fucking obvious.”

  I laugh.

  His expression moves to instant thunder. “Okay, now you're starting to piss me off.”

  I push his shoulders down on the bed and quickly throw a leg over him, straddling his torso.

  “That's not going to work,” he says, but he's already got a half-hard-on.

  “Puck's my brother.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, and his lips stretch into an awkward smile. “No shit?”

  I nod. “No shit.”

  “That's why he was so... violent with that fucker.”

  I suck in a raw inhale. “Our father.” My voice is devoid of emotion.

  Viper puts his hands on my upper arms and spins me in one move until I'm on my back and he's above me.

  I can't stop the tears when I see his eyes. They're filled with his emotions.

  All for me.

  He's allowing me to see him. Really see him.

  And what I see is Viper's rage at the injustices against me.

  “Well, I like Puck a helluva lot more now.”

  I smile through my tears, and he thumbs them away. “I couldn't tell you that I was FBI.”

  “I know,” he says with a frustrated exhale. “I would've gone to the grave with the knowledge, though. And—the important fact that Puck was a brother—not a lover. Christ.”

  “I didn't know that then. I thought you were going to torture me.”

  Viper places a soft kiss on my lips then puts a hand between my bare breasts. “I couldn't do it, Candice. When I saw that picture of you that Noose had, I sort of knew then—just couldn't admit it to myself. When I met you and had to touch you in violence.”

  He sits up, creating distance between us. “Hardest fucking thing I've ever done.” Viper's eyes touch on me briefly. “And I've done a lot.”

  I touch the cheek where he slapped me, and with a low curse, his eyes shift away, but not before I notice the shine in them. “I'd do anything to take that back. Anything.” His voice is rough, mournful.

  My heartbeats thump as I spread my legs, his back to me. “Prove it.”

  His head snaps back, eyes moving to what I so obviously offer.

  A single tear slides down his face.

  I hold out my hand.

  He takes it, sinking between my legs and doing the kind of worship to a woman's body only a man who loves her is capable of.

  Viper hasn't told me he loves me yet.

  He doesn't need to.

  Chapter 25

  Puck

  “What are you saying, Perry?”

  Perry was my partner before I spent three years undercover.

  “You're out, Puck. Well, not technically. The assload of unspent sick days, vacation, and just general, pain-in-my-ass stubbornness has kept you within the de
partment just a little longer.”

  “Roughly three weeks.”

  Perry frowns, setting his half-drank beer on my scarred kitchen table. “So why do you care about this perp?”

  “You mean my fucked up bio-dad? Who actually can't be held for trafficking minors? That perp?”

  Perry has the grace to look embarrassed. “Okay, dumb question. Of course I know why you've got vested interest here, bud—and I'm not saying he's innocent. Not buying that for a hot minute. But let it go, let justice be served. Jerstad's going down, partner. You're looking at retirement at not even thirty-eight. Unheard of, Johnstone.” Perry shrugs, swinging long hair behind his shoulder.

  “I want him dead.”

  One of Perry's thick brown brows climbs high. “Really?” He snorts. “Would've never guessed. He almost was—ya beat him half to death.”

  My head swings to him. “You know what he did to Candi.”

  Not many do, but there's only so much time two partners can spend together before dark secrets see the light of conversation.

  Perry nods, eyes serious. “I do. But, pal, that was a couple of decades ago. Candi's a fed. She’s moved on. You should too.”

  I don't believe that's true. “I don't like the possibility of Jerstad making bail, and those type always do. Just tell me what you know, what his address of record is.”

  Perry whistles low, and since he's been undercover on another case, his hair's grown to epic proportions. When he shakes his head, a mass of thick shoulder-length spiral curls bounce around with the movement. “No can do. Yeah, so perfect. Then you can go over there and kill him, get your ass booted to the can, and I can't mooch microbrews off you on the weekend anymore. That doesn't suit my needs very well. It's all about me.” He smirks, looking like he just sucked a raw lemon. “No fucking way, pal. I'm into the full-mooch situation, not a partial mooch. It's all the way or nothing.”

  I roll my eyes. “You're lucky I like you, or I'd kick your ass.”

  He mock-shoots me. “You'd try.” His smirk widens into a grin.

  Grunting, I admit, “I want to tag Jerstad's ass so he doesn't go after Candi.”

  “Jesus. He's not going after your sister. She's a federal agent and damned dangerous. And if he's half as smart as you say, he'd know that means incriminating himself. He won't commit to that. Even for his sick vendetta.”