VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 141

[POV: Narrator]

Andi responded before thinking, leaning into him, wanting the gap to close. The shock in her movements made him grin briefly, before he kissed her.

His hands pressing firmly at her lower back made her stiffen, but eventually she softened out, rocking forward on the heels of her feet, sliding her hands down to his forearms, gripping him there so he couldn't pull away. Not that he would. Her fingers dug in, her nails leaving marks.

She tried to pull away, just slightly, twisting her torso, tilting her head, but he mirrored it back, one arm tightening at her back, the other tilting her jaw again, forcing her against him.

He held her firmly, and when he slid his tongue along hers, she gasped. Her hips shifted instantly, meeting the pull as she felt the heat spreading, knees beginning to give in just as much as she was.

She shoved against him with her hands still on his forearms, forcing herself off the counter, taking a step back through the kitchenette. He followed immediately, adjusting effortlessly, and she ended up pressed against the wall, breath hitching.

He pulled back slightly, catching his breath. She did the same. She was still gripping his forearms, and he nearly found it funny, because it seemed like she was trying to stay in control, but she flinched under every touch, and she hadn't opened her eyes until now.

He whispered then, a little bolder than she'd have allowed two minutes ago:

"Here?"

She shook her head no, pushing him forward. He grinned against her mouth as she moved them toward the bedroom, and despite the movement, he didn't let go. One hand was tight at her waist, the other sliding under her shirt and up her bare back, fingers finding the edge of her bra strap. He paused for a second, testing.

She yanked him closer, whispering his name as he took his time, letting her guide him backwards.

Andi didn't give herself a second to think. She knew that if she paused, if she let her brain catch up to what she was doing, she would stop. And she didn't want to stop. Not now. Not yet. So she let herself move with him, let herself drive him backwards, let her lips meet his again and again, each slip keeping her from the moment her mind would catch up. Her fingers found the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head in a messy rush, tossing it somewhere without looking, skin flushed and bare before she could second-guess it.

In the bedroom, she didn't stop.

She kept close, hands roaming, tugging at his shirt until he laughed; An incredulous sound that made her pause for just a heartbeat, though she didn't want to.

He gripped her arms gently, stopping her mid-motion, bringing her back to him with a hand to the side of her face, thumb tracing along her cheek.

"Slow down, will you?" he said, laughing again.

She looked at him with glossy eyes, gaze darting to his mouth, flushed and dazed and caught up. Her bra was halfway off, slipping down her shoulder, but she did nothing to fix it; all she could register was him.

"We have time," he murmured, thumb still tracing lazy circles.

Her heart sank.

No, they didn't.

She knew it.

And yet her fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding it there, pretending for just a split second that maybe they did.