Viper (Naga Brides Book 1)

by Naomi Lucas

  The tension within me is growing worse by the day, but I won’t let it rule me. I can’t. Gemma is easily hurt.

  I can wait a little longer.

  “Let me down, Vruksha,” she grumbles.

  “The sun is setting. It is easier to carry you than allow you to stumble through the overgrowth now that it’s getting dark.”

  “I can see well enough.”

  “We are almost there.”

  She startles. “Already? The creek is that close?”

  I peer at her. Why does she sound surprised? She must be eager. I know she wants me. She let me touch her, let me explore her sex, even let my tongue taste it. Is she not ready for more?

  Her sex had been tight, incredibly so. It worries me, and I can’t let that show. She needs a master, a male to nest her, care for her. If I am too big for her, how will she forgive me?

  I do not want her to hurt, for her to feel pain with our union. It’s not going to be easy to sink inside her, but I will make it work. Three fingers may not be enough. Four, or all of them perhaps?

  My tailtip will do the trick. If she can take my tail, she can take my member. But first, she needs a bath, or so she says. And the water will be a great way to make her extra slick for passage…

  I scan my surroundings, listening to the quiet rustle of leaves in the evening’s breeze. The creek is not in the airfield, but it’s nearby and a place I have gone to daily since I first established my den.

  But it’s the only creek near here, which means roaming predators use it as well.

  Including Zhallaix.

  He will steal Gemma if he sees her, or worse. I am certain the only naga who knows I have a female is Azsote, and I want to keep it that way. I can handle Zhallaix—because of his proximity to my den, I know him better than any other naga—but it will be deadly if the others find out.

  I will risk it though, to make Gemma happy. She will get her bath.

  My mouth waters at the thought of seeing her wet.

  I have been dreaming of her for so long. For years and years, before I even saw Gemma, I’ve been dreaming of her and the life we will have. The loneliness she will make disappear.

  I will feed her from my hands, gift her items I have foraged, and provide her every comfort. She enjoyed the bear pelt, and there are many more where that came from. I will introduce her to my nest when we return.

  If she likes one bear pelt, she will like my nest. She will like all I have to give.

  Tonight, she will be naked in my nest.

  I don’t know why I’ve become like this. A male obsessed. For years after my father died, I reveled in the fact that there were no females anymore. I celebrated that they were all gone and I would never have to come in contact with one, nor suffer one. I saw what my mother’s death did to my father. It destroyed him. He explained to me when I was old enough that the male he was afterward was not the male he had been when she was alive.

  He suffered guilt when he looked at me, but he still kept me close, teaching me of the dangers of this world. Of how unfortunate we are as a species, of how lonely it was because we are so few.

  He gave me my spear, taught me how to use it, taught me how to find, repair, and take advantage of the technology across the land. He told me to stay away from the very facility the humans recently took over.

  He said there were things in that building that weren’t right. Things that could hurt us. He said that’s where he found my spear. It was the last gift my father gave me.

  It was the only tangible gift he ever gave me. And now, all I have are memories. Not even the orbs can show me his face...

  The noise of rushing water pricks my ears. Gemma shifts in my arms.

  “Sssshh,” I tell her.

  “Is there something?” she whispers. “Do you hear something?”

  “No, but I must check for predators.” I keep my voice low as I set her on the ground. “I will be too distracted once we are in the water.”

  “We?”

  “Wait here, Gemma. Do not leave this spot while I scout the area. I will be right back.” I cup her face and force her to look at me. “I will know if you try and run.” The shadows are heavy, but the moonlight is out. Even in darkness, she is beautiful. She is Gemma.

  I wait for her to nod before I release her, slinging up into the branches above. I still suspect she will run when she has the chance, but I am beginning to trust her judgment. She won’t run in the dark.

  I slip from tree to tree, searching for signs of recent activity or lingering animals, staying within hearing distance of my female and the water.

  It is strange, patrolling like this.

  Before the arrival of the humans, I never wanted the burden of a female or the companionship of another, knowing the cost it would demand of me.

  Seeing Gemma and her red hair, I discovered how profoundly lonely I was… How large my nest was—and for no reason whatsoever. My world shifted that day at the facility, spun, and shook me to the pointless life I’ve been leading. Where other naga males journeyed to find the female nagas, I stayed in my forest. Where other males succumbed to madness or melancholy, I smiled, viciously devouring another meal.

  All those smiles were fake.

  I’ve been lying to myself for years… I know that now.

  But I’m not liking how Gemma’s presence is making these feelings emerge.

  I won’t let what happened to my father happen to me. Or what happened to my mother happen to Gemma. I will keep her safe—at all costs—and happy whenever possible. This bath is dangerous, but my need for her is strong, and how can I deny her when she offers herself so willingly?

  Once I have claimed her, then I can relax. When she is nestled in the shield of my tail, plump with spill and sleeping soundly, I can finally sleep. Weeks with little rest is wearing on me.

  Finding the creek and area around it empty of predators, I return to my mate.

  She is where I left her, staring up at the stars.

  Sliding to her side, she turns her head at my arrival, but her gaze doesn’t leave the sky. My eyes search for what she’s looking at.

  “Earth’s moon is so bright,” she says, her voice soft.

  “Are there other moons?”

  She makes a noise. “Yes. Many. Every colony has at least one, some have dozens, but none of the ones I’ve seen are as bright as this one.”

  My eyes slip to the pale column of her neck and the way her hair tumbles over her shoulders. Her red hair is the reason I know she belongs to me. We share the same color. She wears my color.

  Only my female would have my coloring.

  “I wonder what life would be like if the Lurkers had never come to Earth, if they’d left us alone and sailed on by, if we’d still be fighting the Ketts with everything we have… Still failing.”

  I don’t know what she speaks of, what or who these Ketts are, only that they are the reason Gemma is here on Earth. I rub my fingertips together. They’re not her problem anymore. They’re not here. I reach up and cup her neck, reminding her who is.

  She tenses, her gaze dropping from the sky. I catch her in my arms and pull her close.

  “Vruksha—” she starts.

  “The area is safe,” I interrupt, “for now. I do not wish to stay long. You are preciousss in these lands, and I can’t risk losing you again.”

  She doesn’t say anything more as I lift her in my arms and carry her to the creek’s edge, to the deep, clear pool where I’ve often come to for hydration. I carry her into it.

  She squirms. “I should undress first.”

  “I will undress you.”

  In the deepest area, I lower, enjoying the chill of the water gliding between my scales. Gemma’s trying to get out of my hold again. I submerge us both, and she gasps.

  “Cold, cold, cold,” she squeaks. She pushes from my chest, slips out of my arms.

  I catch her leg with my tail when she moves from me. I draw her back into my embrace. “I will warm you, little human.�
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  She doesn’t fight me, not like she has been. My member pulses, excited from the act of submission. Grabbing the edge of her jacket, I tug it off her shoulders.

  “Vruksha, I don’t think this is a good idea. Maybe we should go back and wait until morning if it’s so dangerous.”

  “We are here now, and I can’t wait any longer.”

  “But monsters?”

  Didn’t she hear me tell her it was safe? “Have you changed your mind? They’re not here, and if they come, they will have to deal with me.”

  She shivers and raises her arms reluctantly, letting me take off her jacket. I toss it to the shore, reaching for her pants.

  “I can do it,” she says, pulling my fingers away from her.

  I growl and put my fingers back. “I will be the one to undress you this time.”

  She drops all pretenses with a sigh. Excitement returns to me as she kicks off and wiggles out of her pants. I gather them and toss them next to her jacket.

  How could I ever not have wanted this? Companionship? Quipping conversation? Pouty lips when they’re not getting their way? My member has only ever known my hands sheathing it, and now it will know her. It’s had a taste, and it’s even hungrier than before.

  Gemma curls her arms over her chest, where her remaining layers cling to her enticingly. She lowers into the water to hide.

  I’m an idiot.

  What’s the point of living without a female to live for? To share my exploits with? To warm me during the coldest nights and fill my den with her soft voice?

  To drive me mad with desire—and with jealousy.

  She is so beautiful it hurts. Wet and shivering in the shadow of my body, where I can touch her at my leisure. Her hair is wet at the ends, and her chest rises and falls rapidly. Even in the darkness, I see her skin flush.

  My shaft emerges from my tail.

  I take her hands and pull her arms away from her chest.

  She licks her sweet lips. I grasp the bottom of her shirt and tear it off her.

  Now she’s only in her underthings. Ridiculous clothes that shield her from me. Not for much longer…

  I reach for her underwear. She slaps my hand away.

  I reach for it again.

  She slaps my hand again.

  I hiss. “You can’t bathe dressed.”

  “I can’t bathe at all with you watching me like that.”

  My lips twist. “I will watch you as is my right as your mate.”

  “We’re not mates.”

  Frustration fuels me as she turns away, lowering herself into the water, hiding from my eyes. Again. Pain bubbles up to join the frustration, but I push it away. Yet the thought niggles still. She chose Azsote…

  Not me.

  If she had, would she be naked in my nest this very moment? Because she chose me?

  If I had let Azsote take her, would she be inviting his member into her right now? Would they have already rutted on the forest floor? In the very clearing in which he and I battled? The picture of them together enrages me, eats at my insides. I can’t stand it.

  I slide my tail around her, and she steps away from it.

  I can’t handle it and dive toward her, dragging her to me roughly, holding her wet body to my chest. Facing her away from me, her bottom slips across my member.

  She makes a noise.

  “You have accepted me,” I remind her. “You spread your legs and cried out as I penetrated you with not one but three of my fingers.” I slide one hand down her body to cup her sex hard. “You thrashed and cried and grabbed my head as my lips framed your nub, rubbing your sex into my face, or have you already forgotten? It was not Azsote working on your tight sheath to accommodate him,” I growl.

  I push her wet underwear to the side and find her hole, caressing it.

  She writhes against me. “I need to bathe—”

  “I know an excuse when I hear one. Enough!”

  My fingers push inside her. Gemma bows over my arm as she takes them. She’s drenched, wet from the brook, and slick from her arousal. Beyond heated with her readiness to be claimed.

  She is mine.

  Mine.

  I am undone.

  My tail curls up her body, trapping her completely. My fingers find the rough spot in her sheath and rub it. She liked this last time.

  “Vruksha!” she screeches my name and then gasps. And if she wasn’t thrashing before, she’s thrashing now. I rub harder, quickening my movements, sending her into a frenzy, enjoying the way her body shudders against mine.

  She gasps again. Her little noises excite me.

  Human legs are wonderful. She is soft and receptive, and her sex is never fully hidden. I can just spread her thighs to find it… I arch my member against her, sliding it through the curve of her butt as I roll my fingers inside her.

  “Female,” I groan, spreading them. “It is time.” I decide I do not want to wait until she’s in my nest.

  She cries out and jerks in my arms. A wail releases from her lips, and her sex constricts around my fingers. She’s cumming. She’s releasing pent up tension because of me.

  Only I will ever get the glory of seeing her succumb.

  Not Azsote, not any other. Me.

  Pleased, a grin pulls at my lips. “Yes, female. Like that. Like that. Yesss.”

  Her sheath clutches me, and I know it’s time. Her legs buckle, and I slip my tail forward between her legs so she may squirm on it as well. I want her everywhere. If it’s not her tongue, then it will be her sex dewing up my many scales. I bend her over further, holding her to me as her shaking subsides, until she’s on her hands and knees in the shallow part of the creek, bowed over my lower tail. Her body is partially wrapped around it, facing away from me, just like how her sex will soon be wrapped around my member.

  Rearing up behind her, I slip my fingers out of her channel, and after one last rub of her wrinkled spot, after one last pleasured, shocked cry tears from her mouth, I line my member to her opening.

  “Vruksha,” she moans my name, sounding almost defeated. And I pause, but then she lies her head forward, resting it on my tail as she pushes her butt outward. My tip sinks into her.

  Tight, hot, soft. Pleasure blasts through me, and I take a moment to gaze down at her back.

  Gemma, submitting to me. Waiting weeks of hell for this was worth it. Her hair is wet, plastered to her back, falling forward into the water. Her sex is open, ready for invasion, and clenching in the moonlight. It’s tight, spread around my tip, and I push forward. I press my tail to support her chest and body. She wraps her arms around it.

  She moans, straining. I watch as I sink deeper, pushing against flesh that fights me but quickly relents.

  “Tight,” I grit out, cupping her cheeks and spreading her as wide as I can. Will she be able to take my bulge? It is softer than the stem of my shaft.

  I press forward until her hole is up against it. It’s twice the size of her opening, and doubt fills me. But my bulge is not as hard...

  Part of me wants to pause, to use my hand to expel some of my spill, and make things easier, but I don’t.

  She’s perfect where she is. If I stop, I’m afraid she might not let me mount her in such a way again.

  “This will not be easy for you,” I warn. “But you will take it, and I will soothe you. I promise this.”

  I don’t wait for her response, pushing inside her. It is better this way. I force her to take my bulge, shunting forward. Immediately the tight pressure makes me spill. My throat closes around a guttural rasp from the pleasure it brings me.

  “It’s too much,” she gasps, straining, buckling, and shuddering. She shimmies forward, and I force her back, arching my tail upward. “Oh, god!” she cries.

  I pet her back, pulling out of her, untrapping my bulge. “Again.” I thrust back in.

  She moans with a hitch, grabbing me closer. She brings my bulge halfway in.

  I pull out once more and thrust harder this time, pushing through the
tight flesh that continues to fight me.

  “Vruksha!” she screams as she takes the entirety of my member.

  My mind blanks when I’m seated.

  It is bliss. And hell. The way she squeezes me, the way I barely fit. The way her channel contracts and every movement her body makes, every sway… My shaft feels it all.

  “Female,” I grate, gazing where our bodies are joined. Drool slips from my mouth, so crazed am I with the need to move and thrust.

  Tense and trembling, nails biting the scales of my tail, she whimpers, “Too much, too big!”

  I run my hand over her spine, comforting her. “It will get better,” I purr.

  I grit my teeth and pull my bulge out from her, spilling even more as I do.

  She slumps heavily. “Thank you. I don’t think we—”

  I line my shaft back up and thrust back in.

  She stills with a shocked scream. “What are you doing!?”

  “Easing you.” This time there was no fight to my invasion. Her channel constricts.

  I do it again before her body can try and reject me. The fourth time, a roar tears from my mouth and joins her whimpering. She’s wet and tight and slicker than before, easing her was the right thing to do. Coupling with a human is anything but straightforward, not from what I’ve seen of men taking human females on the screens in my den. I know how much larger and stranger I am compared to them.

  But she’s accepted me and I will worship her for it.

  Lifting her until her back is to my chest, I wrap my arms around her body.

  Gemma hitches but doesn’t say a word as I start jerking my hips, pounding into her from behind. I twist, rising on my tail and then back down as madness takes over my mind, addicted to the sting of her tight sheath.

  It grows with each pump, with each moan. My spill surges forward, flooding my bulge to the brink of pain. I speed up. Gemma shakes, grabbing me as I sway and move her body around, lost in the feel of her upon me. I free her breasts and cup them.

  They are soft and sweet. Her tight nipples press into my palms.