Breaker (Unmasked #3)

16. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Delilah

T he sky outside the window turns brighter, the dark clouds moving out, revealing a bright blue sky. Sunlight filters through the panned glass, dust floating in the lines of bright light. I reposition myself, the metal cuff slinking and sliding down with me as I sprawl out on Reaper’s bed, Breaker’s words ringing in my head.

I close my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. The two left me about twenty minutes ago, but I’ve been here long enough that I get it. I can’t leave. They want me here, need me to fulfill whatever plan they have. Reaper and Striker both admitted they need my cooperation. To follow orders. How many times was I told this? It’s only taken me three weeks, but I realize that’s what they’ve been doing with me all along.

Training me.

I’m theirs. I belong, in every sense of the word, to four controlling men, hellbent on getting revenge on my father. And I will do as they tell me or pay for it.

Like right now. They warned me they would tie me up if I tried to leave. Warned me that I would receive a punishment if I disobeyed. And here I am, suffering the consequences of my own actions while Cora suffers because of everyone else’s.

Tears prick at my eyes. I grind my teeth, annoyed by their appearance yet again. Crying won’t help, yet I’ve never felt so helpless. So useless. Even in the weeks here, before I knew them, I only felt this utterly powerless exactly two times, and that was from a lack of control over my body.

This time I’m powerless to do anything to help Cora, and it makes my heart clench with anguish. And in the back of my mind, there’s that slight fear staining every thought. What if they never plan to get her back?

God. They better not be lying.

Any of them.

Reaper’s ominous words echo in my head, reminding me they have a plan for me. Yet. That’s what Reaper said. I can’t go back yet . That means he plans to send me back to Rune armed with knowledge and…

I don’t know. But I focus on the single word. Yet. If I cooperate, give them what they want, I’ll be sent back. Then I can get to Cora, make sure she’s safe, force Rune to call off the marriage, and then I’ll deal with the lodge.

Or maybe I’ll just go back, snatch her up and run. Back here? My mind instantly conjures up this mansion as our destination and maybe it’s because I know we’ll be safe with the four men who claimed us. I don’t know if I’m ready to admit that this deep longing wrapping around my ribs, taking control of all my senses when they’re near means I want to be here.

Before I can delve too deeply into that line of thinking, the door opens and Viper’s imposing figure fills the space, a dark and lethal energy exuding from him. He’s not as tall as Breaker or Reaper, maybe even an inch or two shorter than Striker, but he takes up just as much space. Possibly even more.

My gaze devours him, taking in every detail. His skull mask with the fangs that seem so fitting now. The tight black shirt and how it looks like it was poured over him, outlining every chiseled muscle. My eyes trail to the fatigues, straining along his thighs and bunching at his black boots, hugging his thick calves. As he saunters forward, with so much arrogance in each step, I remember I’m pissed at him.

All of them.

Except Breaker.

“Still thinking about running, Sweetheart?” he asks, stopping next to the bed and looking down at me with those eyes that seem to shift with his every emotion. He hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and my eyes snag on his erection pinned to his thigh, trapped under his tight pants.

Between my legs throbs at the sight and I know they’ve claimed my mind and body. I’m bound to a bed, and my only thought is how it would feel to have Viper slide my dress up and slip a hand between my legs. Shove his thick, delicious dick in my mouth while he fingers me.

“Oh Sweetheart, you have that look,” Viper murmurs seductively, trailing a finger along my stomach.

The last time I was alone with Viper…

Shit. The knife. The one I stole from him.

“Ah, there it is,” Viper says with a chuckle. “Our little thief just realized she was caught.”

I gasp as he grips my throat, leaning over me. That throbbing doesn’t stop. It intensities.

“Do you know what we do to thieves?” he asks, mouth so close to mine I wish he didn’t have his mask on so our lips would brush.

“Tie them up?” I guess. My heart races as Viper’s grip tightens around my throat, his hot breath brushing against my face. Citrusy and clean, yet lined with fire.

Something dangerous, completely untamed, glimmers in his eyes. “We cut off their hands.”

I feel the color drain from my face.

“But our pretty girl needs both her hands,” he continues, standing upright and slipping his palm down my belly, letting it trail over my mound to my thigh, then down to my knee and lower to my boot. “She has four cocks to tend to.”

My cheeks flame, which is absurd considering, but I can’t help but feel not exactly embarrassed, but like it wasn’t exactly me. It was some other version of me with them. That feral woman who got so caught up in their promises and emotions she thinks I belong to them, and more importantly, wants to be theirs.

Wants to feel safe and secure.

Wants that dark, heady feeling of being the objects of their desire.

“You never gave me my knife back,” I tell him, my tone snarky, defensive, as if this alone excuses my thievery.

He doesn’t respond, just inhales deeply and retrieves a key from his pocket. The metal clinks as he unlocks it and I sit upright, rubbing my wrist, eyeing him warily.

“Come,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the door. My heart races with uncertainty as we approach his bedroom, but I follow half curious, half scared of why we’re going to his bedroom, when I remember his naughty drawer.

“Why are we going to your room?” I ask, my voice breathy just thinking about why he wants me in his room, but we’re at his bedroom door and he’s pushing it open and guiding me to his armoire, storing all the knives.

Viper flings the doors open, positioning me before the collection, then moves behind me, resting his hands possessively on my hips, and pulling me against his chest. An arm snakes around my middle, his hard length pressing to my lower back. His masked face dips, brushing into my hair at my neck, murmuring something unintelligible in a low voice that sends shivers down my spine.

As he stands upright, I grip his hand at my waist, feeling small so pressed against him. “What are we doing?”

“First, if you want a knife, you pick it,” he says. He gestures to the array of knives. “Which one do you want, mo leannan ?”

“I pick one?” I ask, even as I’m already studying each knife, searching for one similar to the little knife he gave me. Other than the one in my boot, I don’t see anything close. My gaze snags on a small hunting knife about three inches long with a hilt short enough for my smaller hands. I point to the knife. “That one.”

He makes a guttural sound. “After my heart.” He lets me go and plucks the knife from the display, removing it from its sheath. “Good pick.”

He slips it out and shows me the blade. It’s sleek, deadly, the dim light glinting off the metal. I touch the edge and pain slices through the tip of my finger. I pull my hand back, hissing out a sharp breath. A slice of blood forms on my fingertip.

“Just like you to reach for the knife’s edge,” Viper chuckles, re-sheathing the blade and tossing it to the bed behind me. He grips my wrist with one hand and raises his mask to expose his mouth as he brings my finger to his lips. My stomach flutters at the sight of his lips against my skin as he skates his tongue over the cut, sucking on it gently.

The groan he emits is almost savage in its obvious lust. Between my legs throbs, some primal thing awakening as I watch him taste my blood, all anger, all thoughts , melting away.

“This knife is yours when you learn how to use it,” he grates, letting my finger go with a slick pop and lets his mask fall down again.

This man is an absolute menace—all seduction and sin and unbridled want. It’s like that want, that desperate need, seeps into me, and the urge to have his mouth on me in other places has me leaning toward him, angling my body so all of my soft curves touch his hard planes.

“You said first,” I whisper, tilting my head back to meet his eyes, my breaths coming jagged with each exhale. “What’s second?”

Viper dips his head, his hot breath tickling my ear. “What did I say happened to thieves?”

I bite my lip, breathing hard now. My eyes drop to his erection, every cell in my body lit up with a deep-seated hunger to be claimed again.

“Naughty girl. I can see in your eyes how you want me to fuck you,” he grates. Heat pools between my thighs as his hand snakes around my throat, the other weaving into my hair, tugging my head back sharply. “You’re thinking about how you want me to bend you over my bed and spank your pretty ass until it’s bright pink and your panties are so wet they’re sticking to the soft, sweet petals of your pussy.”

My breath rushes out, hands skimming over his abs like I’ve lost all control of them. And I think I have. Control over my body, my mind. The only thing that matters is him.

“Then you want me to tug your soaking wet panties aside and play with your pussy, and taste how badly you want my cock, don’t you?”

I wasn’t before, but I am now.

“Tell me, Sweetheart, do naughty little thieves deserve to have their pussy pet? To made to feel good?”

Yes , my body screams, aching for his hands on me, but I shake my head because, no, they don’t.

“No, pretty girl, they don’t. They get punished.”

With a harsh tug, Viper yanks me toward his bed, and I’m shoved face down onto the mattress, my arms flailing out in shock. His hips pin me in place while his grip on my hair forces my cheek to the bed, and his other leaves my throat, moving slowly down my back to press into my ass crack. I groan, my body lit up and desperate, wanting a repeat of the other night. I push back against him, feeling his thick cock press into my rear.

“Fuck,” he grates out, releasing me. “You’re so eager for someone who’s in so much trouble. Be a good girl and place your hands next to your head. Palms flat.”

I know this game, so I hesitate, but that just seems to tick up his feral energy.

A rumbling growl comes from his chest. “Do it, Sweetheart, before you make me angry.”

I do as instructed, my heart a beating drum against the mattress even though there’s a part of me that wants to defy him. When my dress lifts, the beating turns to thundering, my thighs pressing together, a shameless hunger throbbing between my legs. My body is primed, ready. Already knowing that while I’ve been punished for not listening, I’ve also been rewarded.

“Good girl,” he purrs, sending electric heat through my body. His fingers inch under the waistband of my panties and pull. I greedily help him by lifting away from the mattress and stepping out of them. “Now count for me, Sweetheart.”

The first slap to my rear is so harsh the flesh stings, pain radiating to my thigh. I yelp, my fingers curling into the bedding, then hiss out a long breath, saying between clenched teeth, “One.”

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, voice like silk. Another lands even harder on my other ass cheek.

“Shit!” I scream, bucking forward, then lick my lips, acutely aware of the faint ache that tingles with smokey desire, making my pussy clench, needing to ease a different type of pain. “Two.”

The next one is even harder, and I cry out again, then whimper out the number, that tingling sensation growing, turning into a hollowness. The next few are just as hard and by the time we reach ten, tears sting my eyes and I’m pressing my forehead to the mattress, breathing in and out slowly, trying to remain still, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the new, wanting pain Viper’s creating.

I stole. I broke into their rooms. They have told me what would happen.

If I listen, I’ll be rewarded.

If I listen, I get Cora.

Viper groans, gripping both my ass cheeks, rubbing the stinging flesh like he can rub the pain to a soothing dullness. I squirm under him, feeling the wetness dampening my inner thighs. Even as hard as the spanking was, I’m still thrumming, left wanting. So needy, I’m dripping wet. So desperate for him to touch that cutting ache between my legs. The idea that I’m this aroused after he spanked me so hard feels vulgar, which just adds to the fire searing in my veins.

I want to be fucked. Brutally. Be completely ravaged. Not like how we did the other night. Dirtier. Taken hard and rough. I want his fingers in my ass, his cock driving into me so hard it hurts. Not the barely noticeable twinge that mingles with pleasure, but the genuine, throbbing torment that dances on the periphery of cutting. The one that would make tears form and fear skitter up my spine.

“You did so well,” he coos right as his finger skims over my wetness. “Oh, Sweetheart,” he grates, finger dragging the evidence of my arousal up my ass crack. I tilt for him, pressing my forehead to the bed, a strangled sound escaping my lips as he rubs my wetness into my hole. My fingers curl into the bedding, resisting reaching behind me to spread my ass cheeks for him. “You’re such a dirty girl squirming, wanting me, your ass so red and fuckable.”

I nod, whimpering. I am. I’m filthy and obviously fucked in the head. And I don’t care. “Please,” I whisper. “Please fuck me. I don’t care which hole you fuck.”

“Jesus,” he hisses out. “Don’t tempt me, mo leannan . I want that ass so bad it hurts.”

“Take it,” I whisper, barely even recognizing myself. The need to be consumed, the craving to be owned, devours me from within. Give me anything. I need anything to make this hurt go away, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Even if it maims me. I just desperately need something to fill this crater inside me.

I’m feel so empty without her.

“Viper, please, fuck me.” I arch my back for him. Reaching behind me to touch his hands on my rear. “Take me.”

“Fuck,” he grates. I feel his head press into my shoulder blades as he kneads my ass harder. Viper drags his hands up my body as he stands back, cock rocking into my ass like he’s dreaming of taking it out and fucking me. “You beg so sweetly.”

I widen my stance, getting up on my elbows to look over my shoulder at him. He steps back, hands dropping to squeeze his hardness through his pants. When he takes another step back, that ache widens, ripping open my chest until my ribs feel cracked.

“You want my cock, Sweetheart?” Viper grates, that sensual purr leaving, replaced with a stoney snarl. “In your ass? In your mouth? That pretty slick pussy?”

His hands drop. My chest squeezes painfully, because I already know what he’s going to say. And it hurts. Rejection from Viper hurts.

“You don’t get my cock again until you can follow orders,” he says, walking backwards toward the door. “Show us you can do as instructed and you can have us in every tight hole.”