Den of Vipers

We all heard Kenzo and Roxy return. I peeked over the balcony to see him kiss her deeply at her door before telling her to get some sleep. He’d been grinning wide, happier than I’ve ever seen him. He didn’t even notice me staring as he went into his room.

Lovesick fool.

Rolling my eyes, I slam my door and lie in bed, my arm tucked under my head but, like always, I’m unable to sleep. When I do, it’s always to memories, those memories. Is it not bad enough I see the physical scars from it? I have to relive it every fucking night.

Closing my eyes, I force myself to sleep, I have no choice, but like I expected, the nightmare takes hold.

I can smell my own blood. It coats the air, as do my screams. I held strong at first, but as more and more of my skin was carved away from my body while she laughed, I couldn’t stop it. They flowed from me, my screams of agony.

She grins down at me madly, those blue eyes I once loved dark with greed and lust. Lust for my pain, my death. She thinks it will get her what she desires. I want to give in, to fall into that light warmth calling to me, but I fight it. I need to get free, to kill her before the others find her. They will torture her, they will make it hurt…and despite it all, part of me still loves her.

Even now, as her blade flashes in the light as it comes back down on my chest, slicing through more of my muscle, flaying it away, I care for her.

Struggling in the chains, I fight her while she giggles. “Oh, Garrett, always the fighter until the end. I love that about you, you know? Seeing the pain you caused, all that blood on your body as you fought them.” She groans, grinding on me and making me gag. “But I was wrong. You’re weak, fucking pathetic. Just a dumb rich guy, not like me at all.” The ring on her finger I gave her a few hours ago shines in the light as she holds up the knife coated with my blood.

It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. The others left to give us space so I could propose, and now here we are. I’m dying.

I can feel it—too much blood loss.

Is that what she wants? Fucking anger stokes within me, one I feel during fights, the one that keeps me alive. It roars through my veins as I glare at her. I clamp my lips shut and refuse to let another noise escape, but she doesn’t like that. With a yell, she stabs and slashes. Pain like no other courses through my bound body…

I jolt awake with a start, something’s wrong. I feel it then, a chain on my arm. With a roar, I grab it and twist, throwing the person next to me before I pin them there. Fury and fear flow through me, blinding me. I wrap my hands blindly around their throat until a small voice reaches me in my haze.

“Garrett?”

Blinking, I stare down at Roxy. “Rox?” I murmur in confusion. I swallow and notice my hand on her throat and sit back, moving away from her quickly. The dream still lingers, making me feel raw and angry.

She sits up, seeming unafraid, even though I almost just killed her again. My body is heaving, my chest hurting from the dream. She can’t be here, not right now, but she doesn’t seem to fucking care, as usual. “Are you okay? I heard you yelling and came to check on you…”

“I’m fine, get out,” I snap, holding back the rage inside me that wants to break free and punish her, even though it’s not her fault.

She frowns. “Garrett, are you—”

“Get. Out,” I snarl.

She freezes, watching me. “Is this about why you hate women…the woman who did that to your chest?”

It’s my turn to freeze then. “How?”

“It’s not hard to figure out. I don’t know who she was or what happened, but I’m guessing it was a woman who did that to you.” She smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Garrett, no wonder you hate women.”

“You know nothing, get out.” I look away in shame.

“Then tell me,” she pleads, reaching for me, but she stops short of touching me. “I’ll understand, I could help. What happened?” she implores. I grind my teeth, and she sighs, letting her hand drop to the bed between us. “I just want to help, Garrett, I swear I won’t hurt you. I just want…well, you. However I can get you, even as a friend.”

“Don’t you see I’m ruined?” I scream. I know the others heard me, but they don’t try to stop me or save her. Fools. She sighs, looking annoyed.

“Where? Where are you ruined?” she snaps, obviously sick of being kind. “Your chest? It’s hot, get the fuck over it, you have a few scars.” She snorts.

“A few?” I roar, and get into her face, pointing at the melted tissue across my torso. “It’s a fucking horrendous mess that makes me feel sick to even look at. How could you ever expect me to think you find this attractive?”

“You don’t get to tell me who I find attractive,” she counters with a growl, angry herself. “I love your scars the way I love my own. They actually made me feel close to you before anyone else. Someone with those scars knows pain, like me. So yes, I like them, yes, I want you so fucking badly it’s stupid, so badly I touch myself to the thought of you, even when you’re mean and hateful. You don’t get to tell me what I want because you’re fucking scared!” she yells, and then breathes heavily as we stare at each other.

“Of course I’m scared, I’m fucking terrified,” I shout, slamming my hand into my chest. “She ruined me, my body, my mind, and fuck, Rox, how can you want that? How could you want me to touch you when I’m such an asshole? When I might kill you?”

“What’s a little danger?” She grins. “I’ve been with Diesel, dude, you aren’t worse than him.”

I go quiet then, unsure what to say.

“They didn’t tell you what happened?” I ask lowly.

“No, it’s your story to tell,” she replies quietly, not angry anymore. Fuck, we’re messing this truce thing up. “Are you okay?”

Scrubbing my face, I sit, pressing my back to the wall, and she sits with me. “Yes, no,” I mutter, unable to look at her. “I’ve had nightmares ever since, but they’ve been worse recently.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and I nod. We sit in silence and she sighs. “I’ll leave, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t leave,” I snap straightaway, and I feel her whirling around to gape at me.

But I don’t know what to say or do. I’m so fucking rusty at this shit, and I don’t know what will trigger me. How can I reach for her when I know I might hurt her? Isn’t me wanting her selfish? But I do. I want her.

I’ve wanted to kiss the shit out of her every time we argue, wanted to throw her to the bed and fuck her. But I can’t.

She slides closer, but I still can’t bear to look at her. She laughs quietly, and then the next thing I know she throws her leg over my lap and she’s before me, hovering above my hips. “This okay?” she inquires.

All I can do is nod mutely, and she smiles down at me. “Garrett, you noticed before any of them that I flinch when someone moves too fast. You know why, right? I’m betting you have worked it out or they have told you.”

“Your dad.” I nod, wishing I killed the bastard when I had the chance.

“My dad.” She nods and smiles bitterly. “The first time I had sex after…” She swallows. “It was hard, it was my first time, it was supposed to be amazing, but we were drunk, and all I kept seeing every time he grabbed me was my dad. It was over quickly, and I cried and walked home. It got better, I learned to block it out. I got good at it, at handling my reactions. It took a lot of years, fuck, I still flinch now. I still have nightmares, it doesn’t just go away—trauma sticks with you every day of your life. But we have a choice whether to let it control or destroy us. I decided neither, because that way he wins. That sounds stupid and conceited, like I just simply decided one day, but I did. I was tired of being afraid, so even now when shit terrifies me, when I get flashbacks or nightmares or react wrongly…I choose how to deal with it. Me. No one else, because they can’t understand how I’m feeling in the moment. No one else can. Healing isn’t easy, sweetheart. In some ways, it’s worse than the actual…abuse, and you will have setbacks and get disheartened, but it’s worth the try. Otherwise, you’re still caught in those memories, still fighting for survival…”

“I’m tired of fighting,” I admit, and she grins.

“Me too. So if I do shit wrong, if I trigger you or anything, speak. Let me know. Let us know how we can help in any way, because they want to. Your brothers, they are reaching for you, trying to understand how they can protect you. Help you. As am I. You have to decide whether you can let us.”

“I need to do this alone,” I mutter.

“I know, but we’re here,” she whispers, “and sometimes that’s enough, or maybe I’m just half asleep and rambling.”

I chuckle, and she grins.

“Want to watch a movie or something?”

“No, I really fucking don’t,” I snap, and her face drops. As she’s about to shift away, I dart my hand out, slower than I normally would so she can see it coming, tangle it in her hair, and yank her to me. She gasps as I slam my lips to hers. I freeze at first, unused to contact, but when she starts to move against me with a moan, I can’t help but grunt and kiss her.

She whimpers into my mouth as I sweep my tongue between her lips and tangle it with hers. The kiss is desperate and raw, filled with a need so strong, I can’t help but imagine her lips around my cock. But then she drops onto my lap, obviously tired of holding herself up, and I freeze.

I wonder if she can taste the fear on my lips, fear that this will disappear and become just another dream, and I’ll go back to wanting her from afar. Craving her with desolation running through my mind.

The pressure of her on me, above me.

Fuck.

I don’t even remember moving, but when I blink, she’s pinned on the bed beneath me and I’m snarling at her. Horrified at myself, I scramble away. “Fuck, sorry, fuck.”

I can’t bear to look at her, but her hand lands lightly on my shoulder, unafraid even after I tried to hurt her yet again. “It’s okay, was it the kissing or me being on you?”

“Fuck, Rox, why does it matter?” I snap, as I scrub my face. “You being on me,” I whisper sadly. “She-she was on top when she did this.” I gesture at my chest. “I was tied down, unable to move or escape.”

“And me being on you—” She sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Garret.”

“Yeah, me too, I’m fucked up,” I growl.

She goes quiet then, and I turn to her, suddenly angry with myself—with my past, with women, with my own fucking need that I can’t goddamn sate. “I’m fucking sick of this shit, of being fucking hard and unable to touch you. I want to fuck you so badly it hurts. I wake up coming on my own goddamn stomach imagining you beneath me, me pounding into you. Those screams you give the others in my ears.” I shake my head, slamming my fist into my chest. “I want you so fucking badly. How can you sit there so calmly?” I almost yell.

Chest heaving, I stare at her as she sits up and crosses her legs, her eyes going faraway. “In your dreams, am I below you?” she asks.

“What the fuck does that matter?” I snarl, my hand circling her throat, squeezing as I bring her closer, but she doesn’t fight it.

“I’m just thinking. If you really want this, like I do, why don’t we try me below you? Hell, you could even tie me down!” She shrugs.

I revolt at that, and she smiles. “Babe, I like to be tied, don’t stress. If you tie my hands, I can’t reach you, I can’t touch you, and you might feel more in control. Like when you tied my hands when you fucked my mouth.”

I growl at that, and her eyes darken, dropping to my cock with desire. “Only this time, you fuck me for real, like we both want.”

“Roxy—” I start, and she grins.

“I bet Diesel has chains.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Whatcha think, big guy, wanna give it a go?”

My eyes trail down her body. “I’ll try anything if I get to fuck you.”

She laughs then. “That’s the spirit.”

She goes to get up, but I keep her there, slowly leaning in and kissing her, to prove to her and myself I can. She moans into my mouth as I squeeze her throat before letting her go. She gets up with a snigger, and I smack her ass, making her laugh harder as she slips from the room. Two minutes later, I hear a yelp and then Diesel laughing.

Eyebrow arched, I watch her come back to my room and shut the door, chains in hands and face flushed. “I thought I would try and scare him in his sleep like he does me, it didn’t work.”

I laugh. “What did he do?”

“Slapped me with his cock.” I gawk and then burst into laughter. She grins but props her hand on her hip. “Seriously, Garrett, whose first thought is to slap an intruder with their cock?” She throws her hands in the air.

“He probably knew it was you, also, it would certainly stop me if I was trying to kill or rob him.” I grin.

“Men.” She shakes her head and comes closer before stopping hesitantly. “Do you need me to chain myself to the bed, or I can get Diesel so you don’t have to.” She looks down at the chains. I do as well, waiting for them to set me off, but they don’t

“No, I think I’m okay, she-she used a rusted chain from outside, that was—”

“An actual restraint.” She nods, understanding. She reaches out and drops them into my hand and waits. I do too, but when nothing happens, I narrow my eyes at her.

“On the bed, face up, now,” I snarl, my desire taking hold. If this works…

Fuck. I can finally have her.

See her screaming beneath me while I fuck her tight little pussy.

Her eyes flash like she knows my thoughts. Stepping back, she sheds the tiny shorts and top she was sleeping in, leaving her naked, and all I can do is stare. She’s stunning, all soft creamy skin coated in scars and tattoos, thick thighs, full breasts, and a snake gleaming in her belly button.

I almost come there and then.

“Bed. Now,” I order, making her grin. She saunters closer and climbs onto the bed, swaying her ass at me as she climbs to the headboard, making me groan and reach out to run my hand across a peachy cheek. For another day, I always was an ass man.

She wiggles her ass again, so I bring the chain down across it lightly, causing her to gasp and jerk. She tumbles forward and flips, her hair spread across my pillow and her eyes blown with lust. She parts her thighs unashamedly to show me her pink, glistening pussy as she lifts her hands above her head and presses them together. Her breasts jiggle with the movement, drawing my gaze. Crawling closer, I kiss each one as I reach for her hands, locking them in place around my headboard with the chains before sucking one of her nipples into my mouth.

She moans loudly, arching into my touch as I pop it free and do the same to the other before sitting back and looking at the pink peaks. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her face flushed, the blush creeping down her throat to her chest as I just sit back and stare at her. I can’t remember ever seeing anything as beautiful before.

My hands are scarred and blood-stained, her flesh too perfect to touch, but I will. I’ll dirty her with them, with the very hands I kill people with, because I can’t not.

Gripping her legs, I pull them farther apart so I can look at her pussy, memorising it. My lips tingle with the need to taste her, to see if she is as sweet as she looks, so opposed to her usual attitude. “Did you forget how to do it? Dick in hole,” she taunts, making me growl and dig my hands in deeper.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Or what? Will you fuck it again?” She grins, lifting her hips enticingly. “Is that a promise?” she whispers hoarsely.

Motherfucker.

I want to go slow, to take my time, to savour her, but I need her too much. Since the moment I met her and she kicked me in the nuts, I’ve wanted her. My very own little fighter.

“Ryder is right, you’re a fucking brat,” I snarl as I crawl above her, resting my hands on either side of her head. “A foul-mouthed, dirty little brat.”

“You love it.” She grins. “So does he. He made me scream even as he called me that,” she teases.

Gripping her throat, I narrow my eyes on her. She doesn’t struggle, just smirks at me, her legs wrapping around my waist to try and drag me closer. “You are mine.”

“Possessive,” she murmurs. “Put your dick where your mouth is…in fact, put your mouth there too.”

“So fucking needy,” I mutter, as I squeeze her throat again, making her moan.

“Enough talking, fuck me already, Viper,” she growls, jerking in the chains to try and get closer.

Sitting back on my heels, I shed my boxers I was sleeping in, and her eyes run across my scarred, tattooed body. She moans wantonly, tilting her hips. She wants me. Scars and all.

It breaks that last bit of hesitation. Roxy isn’t that good of an actor, she has no time for bullshit or lies. She wants me.

Ripping open her thighs, I drag her ass down, stretching her arms above her as she presses her feet on my ruined pecs, her knees bending. I grip her hips meanly with one hand and circle my cock with the other. “Hard and fast, baby, you’re going to be screaming my name.”

“Want to bet?” She laughs.

Narrowing my eyes, I line my cock up at her entrance. I’m big, probably bigger than the others, so despite the fact she’s soaked, I go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. I slip in an inch before pulling back and working in another, but she gets sick of waiting, and with a determined grin, slams herself onto my cock.

She screams noisily, and I groan, my eyes closing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She feels too good, too tight, too wet. I’m not going to last, it’s been too long. Even now, my spine almost bows from the sensation. When her screams taper off into a whimper, I open my eyes and press a hand into the mattress, pulling out slowly before pushing back in.

She gasps and presses down to take more of me, and we quickly find a rhythm. It’s slow at first, but becomes fast and hard. Neither of us are able to control ourselves until I’m just slamming into her, stretching her cunt around my cock. She thrashes in the chains, yanking on them so hard, the headboard creaks.

“Garrett, God, more,” she demands, her legs bending wider, deepening my angle.

Gritting my teeth, I fuck her harder, losing control. It’s tempting fate, I could snap and kill her, I could hurt her, but neither one of us cares. We’re too lost in the need surging through us. I couldn’t stop even if I tried, I’m too far gone.

Lost in her.

She screams my name when I lean down and bite her nipple before sucking it better, her chest arching into my mouth before I straighten and, with a growl, flip her. Her hands twist in the chains, no doubt painfully as I drag her ass into the air and slam into her pussy, grabbing her hips to tug her back.

Moaning, she pushes back to meet my thrusts again and again, her pussy pulsing around me. She’s close, I can feel it, but I am too. I want this to last, to be buried in her all night, but I can’t fight it. My balls are drawing up, my stomach is clenching. Reaching between us, I rub her clit. “Now,” I snarl.

She whimpers, shaking her head as I impale her repeatedly, and then, with a roar, I come, my hips stuttering, my back bowing from the force of it. She screams loudly, shaking beneath me as she comes, clenching around my cock, only drawing my own release out until it seems to go on forever.

Eventually, it stops, and I collapse forward, half on her and half on the bed. Holy fuck. “Round one,” I mutter, making her laugh before she whimpers.

“That was one? Fuck.”

“That was just to take the edge off,” I mumble, before kissing her shoulder and rolling off her. She flips onto her back as we lie tangled together, relearning how to breathe.

Once my breathing has steadied, I look over at her with a huge smile. I did it, I let her touch me. “Thank you, baby,” I murmur.

Swallowing, she turns and grins at me. “You can make it up to me in orgasms, please.”

Laughing, I roll back onto her, and she giggles, which soon turns into a moan as I kiss her.