VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 127

[POV: Andreanna Saunterre]

I was still breathing heavily when he started to pull his hand away. I clamped down on his wrist without thinking.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait," I whispered, eyes still closed, my fingers tightening, just needing him to linger a second longer.

"That good huh?" he panted, leaning back against the headboard.

I nodded. Then, when he did slide free, I pressed my hand against his shoulder, keeping him pinned, and shifted slightly, hand moving down.

Okay. Okay. I can get this back. I thought, adjusting, bracing myself to move on top, to take the lead, to get my focus back.

But before I could settle, he caught my wrist, and flipped me, hands gripping my hips to pull me down so that I was underneath him, his weight pressing me against the mattress.

Okay, uh... I swallowed, blinking up at him. Change of plan. Just—

His hands slid lower, firm against my thighs, and he pushed them apart, forcing space for himself, settling between.

Just hold on?

He hovered over me, asking if I was ready. I think I said yes— I can't be sure— because my head was spinning, my chest still tight from before, and all I could focus on was the way he was just there, waiting, not giving me what I needed.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said, maddeningly calm.

Can he not, like, drag this out? 'Too much' would be if you actually did something instead of—

"It won't be," I snapped back, arching against him, trying to drag him closer.

I mean, talk about being a tease, my God.

He shifted just enough to press inside, not all at once, inch by inch, unhurried. My nails dug into his arms and I couldn't stop the sharp gasp that left me. He stilled, deep enough to make me go quiet, and his thumb traced along my jaw, watching. "You good?"

I hissed, nodding too quickly. "Move," I said, making the corners of his mouth twitch. My hips bucked up on their own, trying to force him deeper, faster, anything. He didn't speed up, not at first. He held me there, set his rhythm, each thrust making me jolt, making me clutch at his shoulders, making me curse.

Unfair. He's doing that on purpose.

Then his grip tightened on my hips, pinning me down flat, and the slow gave way to force. He slammed into me hard enough that I gasped, back arching, the sound tearing out of my throat before I could stop it.

Oh. Oh—oh god. Okay. Okay, maybe it is too m—

My legs wrapped around him, trying to hold on like I said I would, but his rhythm changed — less gentle, more force. I grabbed at the sheets, at his back, anything I could reach, and he checked a few times if I was still 'good,' though I wasn't sure if the sounds that came out of me counted as agreement.

I needed leverage, somehow, so I dragged one hand up into his hair and yanked. The groan that tore out of him only spurred me on, so I tugged again, tighter, holding him close as he refused to let up.