Page 42 of The Viper's Wife

She opens the door. Her sweater is folded in her hands, and she’s wearing a faded black tank top.

She startles when she spots me, but covers it smoothly with a blank expression. “Nico.”

“Val.” I waver on my feet. The party is far, far away. “It’s just us.”

She frowns. “You’re drunk.”

“Do you want me to be?”

She blinks. “What? No. You need to be downstairs.”

“I need to be where you are.”

Her eyelashes flicker at that.

I can’t help but scan her for bruises—her skin is unblemished. Perfect. I lean close. She smells like peppermint soap. “That was the deal, wasn’t it? I get a year.”

How does she keep her red lipstick so crisp?

“What are you looking at?”

“You have a pretty mouth.”

Her lips part. She exhales faintly. “Nico, we can’t.”

I meet her eyes. My grip on the doorframe is the only thing stopping me from pouncing. The wood croaks under my fingers. “I can’t let you go—at the end—if you won’t let me get you out of my system now.”

She bites into her red, red lip. I suppress a groan.

My voice is a low murmur. “Please, Val.”

She grabs me by my suit lapel and pulls me into the bathroom. I kick the door shut, and then we’re on each other.

Her needy moan fills the tiny room as I crush my mouth to hers and lash my tongue inside. She matches my rhythm effortlessly, dropping her weight into my arms to hike one leg around my waist.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I say when we break apart to breathe. I peel her tank top strap down and kiss the nakedskin there. Her fingers claw into my upper back like she’s holding on for dear life.

“Nico,” she gasps. All the blood rushes to my dick.

I tear her shirt down. She’s not wearing a bra, and her two perfect nipples jut out eagerly for my touch.

“Do you want it rough like last time?” I curl to suck as much of her breast as I can into my mouth. She thrusts her hips against mine, soneedyfor me.

“Yes, Nico, yes.”

“I didn’t bring a condom,” I say.

“I’m clean,” she gasps out as I graze her nipple with my teeth. “Nico, please,now.”

“I’m clean too.” I spin her around so we’re both facing the bathroom mirror. Her perfect lipstick is smudged all over her mouth—over my mouth too. Her hair sticks out in a wild fray around her face.

Raw hunger bolts through me, almost paralyzing me with its intensity. This is what she wants to hide from me—from herself too.

We lock eyes in the mirror. Her eyelashes flutter shut as I wrap a hand around her hips to rub between her legs before I work off her pants and underwear—the image of a black lace thong across her smooth ass burns into my memory. I shove two fingers inside her, and she moans and braces herself against the bathroom counter, drenching my palm in a flood of arousal.

She might be fighting this, but her body knows what we both need.

Once I get my pants pulled down and my dick in hand, I fist her hair, rubbing her arousal into the strands. I don’t give a fuck if everyone downstairs knows we had sex. I want them to know.