Den of Vipers

Diesel’s words echo through my head. Free, he wants me to give up. Accept my fate and become like them. I’ll admit the kiss made me feel something—something that scared me. It was addictive, the taste of his lips lingering even now. But I can’t go there. I have to remember I’m nothing more to them than a debt. A prisoner. I was bought.

No matter how much his kiss set me alight.

Or even that I could understand why he does what he does. It doesn’t make it right, but there are worse people out there. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire, and that’s what he’s doing. Protecting his family. I didn’t even feel horror when he killed the man and set him ablaze. I expected it.

And that terrifies me. Shouldn’t I care?

He was a rapist, but…but the way he died…the smell of his burnt flesh is seared into me. The screams will haunt my nightmares, and the man responsible has my panties wet. I told him to make it hurt, and he did. I need to remember to be careful of what I say, since it seems the Vipers take orders very seriously, and for some reason, Diesel listened to me.

In a way, since talking to him, I’ve realized something. This is like a game of chess, one I didn’t even know I was playing. But I refuse to be a pawn. I’m a fucking queen and it’s time I started acting like one. D was right. They all have their strengths, but that also means they have weaknesses. I will find and use them against the Vipers.

I will kill them, cut off the head of the snake.

After all, if you can’t beat them up, join them and then kill them. It’s time I got my hands dirty, ’cause they clearly are, and being good doesn’t seem to be working for me. After Diesel stops the fire, he cleans his tools before leading me back upstairs. He lets me remain silent, lost in my thoughts. Honestly, I don’t know what to say.

He casually told me he might kill me, and then the next second, he kissed me like I was air and he was a drowning man. It pisses me off. I’ve been kissed a lot, but never like that, never so consumingly. It set every nerve ending alive with desire, like if I didn’t keep kissing him, I would die. If I didn’t taste him, feel him against me…fuck.

I mean, I did feel him, it was hard not to when his cock was pressed up against me like that. Sighing, I push the thoughts away. I can’t afford to let him get in my head. I need to think straight, and that means no more thoughts of the crazy man’s cock.

“Ready for dinner, Little Bird?” he murmurs, flicking his lighter open and closed. I want to ask him about it, but I’m not sure I could pay the price of another question so soon. Not when the last one still has me twisted up in knots, and the more I learn about these men…the less I hate them. I can’t have that.

“Starving,” I reply, making him chuckle, and it’s true and horrifying. The smell of that man burning…made me hungry.

Yep, I’m officially more messed up than I thought.

Diesel leads me into the apartment, and the guys are there waiting, with pizza and beer spread across the table. It surprises me, and Kenzo must see that. “We eat junk food too, now sit your pretty ass down and grab some before it’s all gone.” He looks me over as he speaks, but when he finds me all in one piece, he seems satisfied.

Ryder’s eyes track me across the room as I plop into my seat and grab nearly a whole pizza and two beers. Ignoring his look, I scarf them down. He wanted to teach me a lesson, to control me like everything else, and it’s clear he doesn’t like what he can’t control.

He’s going to hate me.

They all watch me eat, gobsmacked, apart from Garrett, who weirdly grunts in approval. There’s one last slice left, and as I reach for it, so does Diesel. He smirks at me, and I can almost see his dare to try and take it from him. So I do the only thing a girl faced with losing a slice of cheesy heaven can do. I grab my fork and stab it into his hand.

He yelps, yanking his hand back with the fork still sticking out of it as I grab the slice and take a bite, feeling smug. Everyone else is silent, watching Diesel, and when I gaze around, I realise they are all tense. I slow my chewing and look to Diesel to see what they are so worried about.

He pulls the fork from his hand and covers the holes as they bleed, his eyes slowly rolling up and meeting mine. We stare each other down for a moment before he bursts into laughter. Kenzo jumps next to me, so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t fall from his seat. Sighing, he looks over at me. “Don’t piss Diesel off, okay?”

“What? Why?” I ask, hiding my smile behind my slice of pizza.

Kenzo glances at Ryder, and they share a look before he brings his gaze back to me. “Just don’t.”

I shrug and swallow the last bite of pizza before washing it down with some beer. “We won’t be here in the morning, Roxxane.”

I look up at Ryder as he wipes his mouth and leans back in his chair. His shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and I swear it’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. “Huh?”

“Garrett, Diesel, and I will be gone before you even rouse. Kenzo will be here, I trust after our…demonstration, I don’t need to tell you the importance of behaving.” He raises his eyebrow as I narrow my eyes. “Or I will start having to lock you up again.”

Fuck.

“Fine, where are you going?” I inquire.

“We have someone to deal with,” he offers.

“Does that have to do with the fact someone tried to kill Garrett?” I query, and Ryder sighs, looking over at Diesel with a disapproving expression.

“Yes, the man hired was an assassin, so we are going to visit an old friend, Donald, to find out who. It’s a hundred or so miles away.” He shrugs.

“So why this guy…Donald?” I press.

He smirks. “He runs the assassins in this country, if anyone knows who the hitman was, it’s him.”

“Then what will you do?” I ask.

“To the hitman? Track him down and make an example of him,” he answers, so matter-of-fact and honest, that I’m not even surprised. “Kenzo, make sure she doesn’t get out this time.”

“I’m not a fucking dog,” I mutter.

“Then stop acting like a bitch.” Ryder smirks, and my mouth drops. That motherfucker—I should have stabbed him with the fork, not Diesel. “There are new clothes in your room for you, and if you behave, I might even get you something to keep you busy.”

“Well, aren’t you just the best kidnappers ever?” I deadpan, and Kenzo chuckles next to me.

“Don’t worry, darling, I can keep you busy.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I snarl, even though my heart slams in my chest.

“I have a knife as well as a fork,” I warn, and he laughs, those dice running through his fingers like always.

Ryder gets to his feet, unbuttoning his shirt as he does, and my eyes widen. What the—holy fuck. He undoes the top two buttons, showcasing golden skin…covered in tattoos. When he rolls his sleeves up to his forearms, displaying large veins and muscles, I feel my mouth drop open at the tattoos covering him from the wrist up. I did not see that coming. His suit hides a lot. “I’m going to the gym, be ready to leave at three AM,” he tells the others, and then strides away, leaving me there as I drool.

Get yourself together.

I snap my head around to see Kenzo smirking at me, catching me salivating over him. Shit. He leans closer. “Want to bet I know what you’re thinking about right now, darling?”

I try to stab him with the knife, but he’s really fast and gracefully leaps from his chair, winking at me before walking away. That leaves me with Diesel and Garrett. Nope, wait. Garrett gets up and stalks away without even a backwards glance. Okay, so Diesel and me again. I look over to see him prodding the bleeding stab wounds on his hands, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

Okay then.

Maybe I’ll just—I slip from the table and head back to my room while he isn’t looking. Shutting the door, I spot the bags on the bed and snort. Fucking asshole, I bet he bought me fancy dresses and pant suits. That’s what rich people wear, right?

Wandering around the room, I try to ignore the bags and my curiosity, but I keep looking back at them. Fuck it. Striding over, I grab the first bag and open it, pulling out the jeans inside.

I hold up the pants, my heart thundering. There are styled rips down the front and frayed edges. They are a deep black, and they feel expensive and luxurious, but look like the ones I have on today. Shaking my head, I pull open the other bags. I find some plain vests, some band t-shirts and vests, as well as some oversized dresses and shirts. All in my style, black and edgy. There are even some ripped loose pajamas in there, as well as some soft ones.

Tearing open the next bag, I find panties and bras in my size. How the hell did he know my exact size?

All that’s left is a bag and a box. I opened the bag first to find two dresses. One is a silky, red, almost holographic material with spaghetti straps, which is short and tight. And really fucking nice. The next dress is black. Its back is cut out and replaced with lace, and the front neckline is a really low V. It’s hot as hell.

Overwhelmed, I open the box to find shoes. There are some new, kick ass boots as well as three pairs of heels. He thought of everything, literally everything, and it’s all so…me.

I didn’t expect that. Sighing, I throw myself back on the bed, unsure what to think. I frown when I feel something sharp digging into my hip. Reaching down, I extract a small bag I must have missed. When I peek inside, I spot makeup. I almost squeal as I tip it over to see the high-end brands tumbling free, all in my colours—red and purple lipsticks, dark eyeliner, and eyeshadow.

He thought of everything.

My hand catches on a small, black, velvet box at the bottom of the bag, and I pull it free, sitting up cross-legged as I flip open the jewellery box and gasp. There, nestled in the silk, are two golden snakes. They are clearly earrings with what looks like rubies for eyes, and the detail is insane. Golden scales drip across the bodies, and they’re so lifelike, I can almost imagine them slithering.

What does this mean? Why did he give these to me?

I thought I was just a prisoner, a debt, so why is he going out of his way to make me comfortable—apart from today’s lesson, which I guess I kind of deserved—and why are they doing this?

They stole me, I remind myself, but it feels weak, even to me. Did they? After all, they were just trying to collect their debt, it ain’t their fault my dad sold me. I mean, they could have said no, or just let me be free, but I guess they have a reputation to uphold.

Fuck, am I really questioning this?

Isn’t there a name for this, like Stockholm syndrome? I’m not becoming one of those girls who falls in love with her captors. Nope, not at all…but if they carry on giving me expensive makeup, I might just hate them a little less.

Maybe.

Stupid emotions, stupid hussy vagina. Rolling over, I get up and put away the clothes before kicking off my boots and jeans, and laying back on the bed in my vest and knickers.

My mind keeps going back to that kiss today. I mean, fuck, it was just a kiss, so why can’t I stop thinking about it? My hand drifts up on its own, touching my still sore lips. Everything about the Vipers hurts, even their pleasure.

Smashing my hand back to the bed, I stare defiantly up at the ceiling. Okay, so maybe I can admit I want to fuck these men…maybe if they weren’t talking. Yeah, I would gag them, fuck them, and leave them. Yes, that’s it.

No, fuck. I can’t.

I can’t cross that line. It’s bad enough they have taken everything away from me, but they don’t care. They are smug about it, pragmatic, like they don’t even see how wrong it is that they just took a person. I can’t, I can’t want them too. I can’t give them that piece of me, no matter how much I want them.

But…what if they don’t let me choose? What if they take my body like they took me?

What if they realise just how much I want them?

How much my pussy clenches when I’m even around them…like when Ryder uses that cold, dark voice or Kenzo smirks at me…Diesel’s crazy yet addictive personality, or Garrett’s anger.

My heart races and my thighs rub together as I imagine all that power turned on me. Okay, so I just need to relieve some tension. It’s clearly been too long since I got laid, and my body has decided since they are the only men around, they’ll do.

Yep, that’s it. Relieve some tension, Rox, then back to planning how to escape the fucking snakes.

Alright, think of something sexy. Something other than the tattooed, powerful men in this apartment…

But my mind flicks back to Ryder rolling up his sleeves, all that power…imagining him at the gym. His body slick with sweat, his cold eyes hard as he pushes himself. To be better. Faster. Stronger.

The way his icy gaze would flicker in annoyance at himself. The way those lean fingers would grip the weights…

Slipping my hand in my panties, I groan, biting down on my lip as I find myself already wet. Dipping my finger in my cream, I circle my clit, teasing myself as I imagine it’s someone else’s hand. Touching me, rubbing me, making me gasp as we flick my clit.

Closing my eyes, I rock into my touch as I push up my shirt with my other hand and squeeze my breast, rolling my nipple around and imagining Ryder sucking it into his mouth. Those cold eyes locked on me as he smirks.

Biting back my moan, I dip my fingers inside my channel, slipping them in and out. Pretending it’s one of their cocks, their hands. Anything. Speeding up, I chase the orgasm I can feel building. Needing to reach that peak.

My body doesn’t care that I shouldn’t want them.

It wants them.

It’s craving them.

And in my fog of desire, it’s them I see as I touch myself.

Gasping, I rock into my fingers, imagining Ryder’s dark eyes as he watches me from the end of the bed. Visualising Diesel’s lips crushing mine as he takes what he wants—me. Garrett is there, too, prowling around the bed, observing me for once. Kenzo’s finger trails teasingly up my thigh.

Yes, fuck.

They would be hard, they would be mean.

It would be raw and filled with anger and hate, all of us not wanting it, yet needing it…

Fuck!

The orgasm rips through me out of nowhere, and I moan as I thrash in the bed, my hips lifting rapidly, fucking myself through it until I collapse, my fingers wet as satisfaction pounds through me. As does exhaustion.

I’m fucking knackered now. All this fighting, all this stress and swinging emotions has drained me. Slipping from the bed on shaky legs, I cross into the bathroom and clean up before climbing back beneath the quilt and cuddling myself into a ball.

I can do this.

I just need to keep them from finding out I’m attracted to them…or that I’m feeling fucking curious about what they would be like in bed. Yes, that’s it. Keep my distance, play it cool, and earn my freedom.

Because despite the fancy gifts and the fact that they haven’t hurt me, not really, I still want to be free. I still want my old life back, a life before these snakes. Before their cool eyes and harsh hands. One where people don’t talk about killing someone over pizza. I mean, yeah, it probably happens at the bar, but I don’t really know about it.

I’ve always had my foot in that inky darkness, in the underbelly of the city, but this? This is the fucking castle of it, and these four are the leaders.

The Vipers won’t stop until they own everyone and everything. But that can’t include me.

Not now, not ever.

Not if I want to survive.