Book One: The Viper's Bite

Five

I strode into the women's locker room, heading to my own dressing stall, cluttered with tossed tees and planting myself in the soft armchair in the corner. I buried my face in a mound of cotton. I felt like such a terrible person.

Outside of the room, I heard murmurs pick up. They were probably talking about me; there were several TVs back here so that everyone could keep up with the action. But then the murmuring increased in volume, getting closer, until I heard, "This is hers?" In a deep, terrifyingly familiar voice. There was no opportunity for me to burrow beneath my clothes before the door was thrown open. I covered my face with one of my bigger shirts as Orton poked his head in.

"Hello. You disappeared quickly, didn't you?" He smiled, a tiny, completely sincere smile.

I was scared shitless.

I stood up, motioned to the door. He stepped in, didn't shut it. "I'd just like to start by saying I'm sorry," I murmured, wincing at the way my handprint still stood out from the rest of his face. "Because that looks like that hurts."

"I liked it," he breathed, and I looked up, a little turned on by his statement. Before I could speak, he grabbed my hand and tugged me out the room, through the halls, while all the divas stared at us, speculating. His grip tightened as we got to the door, and he pulled me a few doors away to his own dressing room.

By the time he shut the door, I was breathless, and not from the run. His body pressed mine against the door, and this time, I felt something hard pressing to the underside of my stomach. I met his eyes, and something in them burned white hot. His fingers slid into the braids at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back as his lips explored my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. I gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on my clavicle, pulling him closer. His other finger went down to unhook the front of my pants, his fingers pushing into the waistband and around my thigh.

I stepped out of the pants, my fingers fumbling with the hem of his shirt. He stepped back, panting, peeling the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His hands gripped me under my arms, lifting me right off the floor. I squealed and tangled my legs around his.

"Say my name," he rasped into my neck.

"Randy," I breathed, barely able to get it out. He laughed, his thrumming undertone teasing and tempting. "My whole name," he groaned. "Like earlier."

I felt him push the throbbing length of his rod against me, and I cried out. "Randal," I tried, but it came out more like a gasp because his fingers were doing something amazing, something wicked, something I didn't want to stop. He used his torso to keep me boosted, and pushed down his trunks with one hand. Stepping out of it, He hooked his thumbs around my underwear. I let him pull them off, and we were skin to skin. The feeling was unreal - I wanted to stay forever, in this exact position, and at the same time, I wanted it to be over, to explode into a million little peices of bliss.

I was lifted, just a bit, before he pushed me down onto his cock, hard. I nearly screamed out, instead biting onto his shoulder until I tasted the coppery tint of blood. Rippling sensation overtook me, and I arched in his arms. My back hit the wall and he pumped forward, causing me to rise with a tide of euphoria. With each thrust of his hips, I was pushed closer to oblivion.

"Say it," he hummed, his voice low and sensual. I met his eyes, and saw nothing but the encompassing blue orbs as they smoldered with desire. My lips parted, my breathing shallow as he pumped, his pace steady, unraveling.

My hand curled around his neck, digging into his skin as my head hit the wall repeatedly. I couldn't feel the pain; I was too caught up in the rapture. I pushed my mouth onto his, seeking solace from the raging waves of splintering pleasure that sparked through me. It only made it more intense - I arched, my lips parted in shock, as we slid to the floor, where his pace only picked up, hitting me over and over until I couldn't see anything but the bursts of ecstasy ricotcheting through my veins.