Page 61 of Viper

He guided his cock to her opening and pushed inside.

“Oh my god,” she cried. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him to her chest as he thrust in and out.

Her warm wetness rivaled the heat of the shower. Sweat dampened his skin, mixing with the spray. He couldn’t think of anything but her slick sex and her throaty moans against his ear.

“God, you’re so big,” she said on a gasp.

He forced himself to slow, but the effort was like swimming upstream against rapids. “Does it hurt?” Maybe he hadn’t gotten her ready enough.

“No, no.” She jerked her hips forward. “Don’t stop.”

That was the only green light he needed. Burying his face against her neck, he drove into her, pumping hard and making sure to hit her clit every time.

Her sharp cries echoed off the shower walls and her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Water rained on them and made squelching sounds between their bodies. Her insides cinched his dick, nearly squeezing the life out of him and at the same time giving him oxygen. Desire fucking blinded him.

Her head fell back against the wall and she withered and squirmed as he ground deep while being mindful of her head and back against the unrelenting tile.

Her breath stirred the air by his ear, and his erogenous nerves jumped. She came, her body convulsing as she screamed his name. Hearing her calls of desperation sent him over the edge, too. He gripped her thighs and pumped hard, his own orgasm shaking his legs. He had to hold her with one hand and grab the wall handle with his other so he wouldn’t fucking collapse.

Her body went limp in his arms, and she gently stroked the back of his neck. His muscles thrummed with energy. If he weren’t sweating his bag off, he’d go for round two right here and now.

“I’m slipping,” she said lightly.

He lowered her but kept one hand firmly on her waist. Heat swirled around them. Paige’s cheeks were pink and her face dewy.

He pulled her close and stepped beneath the spray once again. “Too hot?” he asked.

“A little. I thought I’d never get rid of the chill.”

He reached for the tap and adjusted the temperature. “Told you, I’m good at eradicating that.”

“You’re good at a lot of things.” She wound her way around him to get her hair beneath the spray.

“Not very good at keeping my sex drive in check. Though I could just blame that on you.”

She grinned and squirted shampoo into her palm. “I think your sex drive is exactly where it needs to be.”

They finished washing and he shut off the water. After stepping out of the tub, he stood wet on the mat and shook out a towel for her, holding it open.

She shouldered her way into the material and he lifted her out. “You don’t need to do that,” she said.

He arched a brow. “Do what?”

“You know. Wrap me up and lift me out.”

“Am I supposed to just let you stand there cold while I get dry?” He’d never been one to serve himself first—not when it came to women. That shit just seemed ass-backward to him. He grabbed another towel and ran the material over his skin.

“I’m not complaining,” she continued. “I just don’t want you to feel like I expect this kind of treatment from you.”

He secured the towel around his hips and frowned at her. Her voice held no reproach, but hell it irritated him that she thought he was doing more than what should be done.

Curling his knuckles beneath her chin, he held her gaze. “You should fucking expect it, babe. From me or any other man.” He dipped his chin. “To be clear, I don’t want you near any other men.”

An impish smile glittered in her eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah for real,” he said, in outrage. “You think I want another man—” His voice dropped to a deadly baritone. “Never mind. Alls I’m trying to say is there’s something called basic decency and manners, and for as long as you’re with me, that’s what you’ll get.”

“Some people would call lifting a woman from the shower special treatment.”