Chapter 5 Do you have any regrets about tonight?
Catalina
A short while later, Viper moved off me and dealt with the condom, tossing it into the bin beside his bed. He walked into the private bathroom, and I heard the shower start, followed by the rush of water from the faucet. He returned to me moments later, bending to gather me into his arms. I clung to him, my body molding to his as I sought his mouth with my own. He carried me with purpose back to the steam-filled bathroom.
My gaze drifted over the space, taking in the towels stacked on a metal rack and a damp cloth discarded on the tiles, stained a deep, rusty red.
He kept me close as we stepped into the spray. Pinning me to the chilled wall, a welcome shock to my heated flesh, he captured my mouth in a devastating kiss. God, this man knew exactly how to use his mouth.
“Baby, I want you again,” he growled against my lips, “but I am out of condoms in here. I am clean, I fucking swear it. I had a full panel done just four days ago.”
“I am clean, too,” I answered, the words leaving me in a rush. “I have never once been without protection. But with you… I want to be. I get the contraceptive shot every three months.”
Our eyes locked, a silent conversation passing between us. I felt the subtle movement of his body as he began to press into me.
“Oh, God.” The sigh was torn from me. The sensation was incredible. With nothing between us, I could feel every smooth, hard inch of him caressing a place deep inside me I never knew existed. This was pure bliss, a perfect, filling pressure. I had no idea it could feel this good. He groaned, his initial, gentle movements transforming into something deeper, more demanding. Each powerful drive of his hips sent a shock of pure pleasure through my entire system. My body began to tremble, and my climax tore through me with such violent intensity I cried out, the sound nearly deafening in the enclosed space. I felt him begin to pulse within me, and I managed to gasp the words, “Let me go.”
He stilled immediately, withdrawing. I sank to my knees and opened my mouth for him. He cursed, a raw, guttural sound, and spent himself onto my tongue.
“Fuck, that is so hot,” he breathed.
I held still as he finished, and when he murmured the command, “Swallow,” I obeyed without hesitation.
“Such a good girl,” he praised, his hand coming up to cradle my jaw, his thumb stroking my lower lip. A tremor of pure delight went through me at his words.
“Do you like being my dirty girl?” he asked.
Fuck, I loved that. Why did I love it so much? My eyes lifted to his, wide with the sudden, startling realization that I craved this kind of rough approval. Was there a part of me that thrived on this?
“Damn, Angel, come here.” He bent, lifting me effortlessly. He turned me into the water, letting it cascade over my skin before taking a bar of soap and washing me with a surprising gentleness. He lathered my hair and worked in conditioner with the same focused care. Once I was done, he moved under the spray to clean himself. He shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and began to dry me, carefully squeezing the moisture from my hair before roughly drying himself.
We did not speak as he led me back to the bedroom. Together, we stripped the damp sheets from the mattress. He pulled a fresh set from his closet, and we made the bed, our nakedness feeling natural and unremarkable. He slid between the new sheets and looked at me, his expression an open question as I hesitated by the bedside. Then he held his arms out, and I went to him, settling against his chest with my head on his shoulder and an arm draped across his stomach. He held me close, pulling the comforter over us with his free hand.
“I am not finished with you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “But we need a break. Sleep well, Angel. If it is still dark when we wake up, you are going to ride me like you promised.”
The sensation of fingertips tracing a slow path up and down my spine pulled me from a profound and dreamless sleep. I could not remember ever resting so completely.
“What time is it?” I asked, my voice thick.
Viper reached for his phone, the screen lighting his face. “Two thirty in the morning. We have been out for three hours.”
“Shit. I am sorry I slept so long. I have never in my life felt so comfortable.”
He gave a low, warm chuckle. “I must have worn you out.”
A soft sound of agreement was my only reply.
"I should head out. Is there even any ride service available right now? Then again, this is New York City; the whole fucking place is always awake." I was talking too much, my thoughts spilling out.
"I will take you home."
We got up from the bed. The room was completely dark until he switched on the lamp from the nightstand. I located my dress and managed to squirm back into it, then stepped into my heels, having no memory of removing them. My clutch was on the floor. I picked it up, opened it, and pulled out my phone. The screen showed fifteen missed calls and thirty-five text messages. Every single one was from Jake.
"Fuck."
"What is wrong?"
I lifted my gaze to Viper and could not stop myself from staring. He had pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and his club vest, nothing else.
"That is quite a look, but you are pulling it off."
He let out a low laugh as he tied his sneakers. "So what made you curse like that?"
"It is Jake. He has called me non-stop and flooded my phone with texts."
Viper went quiet for a long moment.
"Do you have any regrets about tonight?"
