VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 105

WARNING: spice with a little more spice on top
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[POV: Narrator]

She stepped forward without another word — arms around his neck, up on her toes — and kissed him so fast, so suddenly, he had to catch her, lifting her off the ground for a second, breath caught, before setting her back down slowly.

The kiss landed hard.

Her arms flung around his neck and his re-anchored at her waist, clinging, digging into her sides like he didn't trust that she wouldn't stay put.

It was hot, and urgent. A little off-kilter, and slightly messy. But, they had to make up for lost time somehow.

Her hands slid up as her fingers weaved into his hair, tugging at the strands, pulling him down. She wanted him closer, closer. Like she couldn't get him near enough. His mouth softened under hers for a split second, then bit back — and he backed them into the wall.

Her hands were everywhere — jaw, shoulders, neck — unable to keep still. His ran over the back of her shirt, up beneath it, finding warm skin and tensed muscles. It made her shiver.

He pulled back slightly, breath shaking, his forehead pressing to hers. She chased after his mouth, but he caught her jaw in one hand and held her back, just for a second.

"What changed your mind?"

Andi looked dazed — eyes wide, mouth parted, like she couldn't think in complete sentences anymore. Her gaze dropped straight to his lips, and lingered there indefinitely. He watched her do it, and smiled.

"I couldn't—" she breathed, chest rising hard. "You didn't want me to. And—"

She rocked forward again, barely holding still. He kept her there, one arm pulling fully around her waist, locking her against him. He bent down, bit gently into the side of her neck, then licked over it — before he did it again, lower, near her collarbone. His other hand was still at her jaw, thumb resting against her cheek.

"And because you can give me a better night than he could."

And then they were kissing again — messier now. Tongues, breathless sounds, pure want. Their mouths didn't part, just shifted angles, deeper and deeper.

He felt her heart hammering against his chest — and she could feel his doing the same, full and fast and unrelenting.

Between kisses, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm—"

He shook his head, eyes barely open. "Don't," he murmured, hands moving again, over her sides, up her spine. "Not now."

They moved backward down the hall — slow at first, but then faster, tripping a little over each other's feet, mouths still locked together.

Oscar tugged her top up with both hands, and she raised her arms without breaking the kiss. It was off before they hit the living room doorway. Her fingers fumbled with her jeans, unbuttoning them, shoving them down her hips. As she stepped out of them, they barely paused — touching whenever they could, grabbing at skin, pulling and pushing each other simultaneously.

When they reached the couch, Andi pushed him down, and he grinned as she climbed onto his lap.

She just grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up. He complied, raising his arms and letting her pull it over his head. He kissed her again right after — rougher this time — hands sliding up under her bra line to touch her bare torso. She bent forward, kissed him back, and he leaned into it — then ducked down and dragged his tongue up the skin between her bra and neck.