15. Chapter 10
My cock’s so hard, but if I try to readjust myself, they both will notice.
On the screen in front of us, Viper throws his head back, hips thrusting, stroking his cock as he comes all over Cora’s prefect bare pussy. Her words ring in the room like the echo of a bell.
Watch your ass get taken.
My cock jerks and I shift uncomfortably. I didn’t touch her that night. My sole focus was on our Princess, but I’d love to now. Rub my face all over her slick pussy, even with Viper’s cum sticking to her.
With Breaker in her ass.
Or maybe in Viper’s.
I might like that idea more than I want to admit.
To my right, Breaker groans and grips the hard length of his dick through the material of his pants. For a second, my mind fills with the image of his long, deft fingers slipping down my abs to grip me just as hard. His pale eyes move to me and I look away, trying to blink away the image.
He has never hid his excitement at the sight of Viper with a woman. They don’t hide their attraction the nights we share a pretty cunt. And the night with our Princess and Little Flower has left us all in a strange place. Being so close to them, wanting to touch them, fuck them, taste them, has been fucking torture.
As the day’s progress, I think we’ve all been aware of what we’re doing. Watching them too much. Thinking about them too much. Talking about them constantly.
With Viper and Breaker sitting with Cora for several hours a day, this was bound to happen. I don’t think it’s a surprise it was Viper. His lack of control is part of who he is.
“Jesus,” Reaper says, watching with us as Viper walks from the room and Cora slips her fingers between her thighs. “She may very well…” his voice trails off when he looks at me. Something about my expression makes his lip curl upward at the corner.
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. She may very well ruin us. I agree wholeheartedly.
I drag my gaze from him back to the screen, trying to ignore the heated energy coming from Breaker next to me and the knowing look from Reaper.
“Is she…?” Breaker asks, his breath huffing out. My gaze darts to him, only to find him squeezing his cock again. He glances my way and catches my laser sharp focus on his hand. Our eyes meet and I look away.
Again.
Her quiet moan fills the room and we all watch as she fucks herself with cum soaked fingers. We should probably look away but…
“Fuck, she’s so beautiful,” Breaker says. “She knows we’re watching.”
“She does,” Reaper agrees, leaning back in his chair as he watches her. “And she likes the thought.”
Another delicate moan fills the room. I can’t rip my eyes off her. The way her breasts move under her pretty floral dress as she slips her fingers in and out. Her other hand moving from her clit up to her breasts, squeezing her nipples through the material and then back down again to slide over her clit. The way her silky hair fans across the bed, a slash of vibrant red over the white covers. How her creamy thighs spread wider as she gets closer to her release and her head tilts back.
“Oh, shit.” Viper’s voice cuts through the room and I turn long enough to see him leaning against the door frame, his pants and belt still undone. He must have run to get back here so fast. “What a naughty thing she is.”
“What was that about, Viper?” Reaper asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.
“A reminder,” Viper says. “That she wants us.”
Her soft cry shivers through the room as she comes undone, legs curling around her hands. As her orgasm fades, her thighs part and splay open. She lies on the bed, her arms sprawled at the side as she stares at the ceiling, unmoving.
“She doesn’t need a reminder,” Reaper says, leaning forward, his dark eyes moving between the two women on different screens. “What she needs is a little more fear and less spitfire.”
Cora groans, covering her face with both hands, and rolls to her side, her back to the camera.
“I think she’s plenty scared,” I say. “She talks big, but underneath it all, she’s a terrified little girl.”
Reaper looks over at me, quirking a brow. “Does that look like terror to you?”
I meet his eyes. “It looks like a woman trying to survive.”
His jaw ticks. Reaper doesn’t like being wrong, and I think he may be wrong about Cora. She may be more like us than he thinks, just forged from something far different.
“When do we let her see Delilah?” Breaker asks, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. The faint scent of the soap he favors hits my nose. It reminds me of the ocean. Crisp. Clean. He shifts again, widening his legs.
I know we’ve been trapped here too long already, because I find every minor thing he does so fucking…. fascinating.
“It’s been a week,” Viper adds.
“It’s too soon,” Reaper says. “Give it a little longer and you’ll see I’m right.”
“So we just keep her locked in her room?” Viper snaps. “Keep her from her best friend to prove what?”
Reaper raises a dark brow and rips his eyes from the monitor to look at Viper. “She’s still our—”
“What, Reaper?” Viper asks sharply. Breaker shifts and meets my eyes. Yeah, I agree silently. I’ve never seen Viper like this either. “She’s our what? Prisoner?”
“Ours,” he says. “Not just yours.”
“Ours,” Breaker grates, watching the camera as Cora stands and walks to the bathroom. His tone carries such possessive heat, I begin to wonder at what point we decided they were ours.
Because it’s starting to feel like we made them ours before that night in the club.
Maybe they have been ours this entire time and we just never voiced it.
“It’s not like I fucked her, and it’s not like she wasn’t willing.”
Breaker shakes his head, a disapproving growl building in his throat. “We all agreed not to touch them yet. We all agreed to wait.”
Yeah. We did. Doesn’t mean we like it, but it’s too soon. We need their trust before we move forward.
“Next time you want to get off, Viper,” Reaper says, leaning back in his seat, spreading his legs and locking his eyes on Viper. He lifts his chin in Breaker’s direction. “You know where to go.”
Viper’s gaze flickers over to Breaker, crossing his arms over his chest. Breaker’s jaw pops, his gaze slipping from Viper’s face to the unbuttoned pants as he unfolds himself from the small chair. Taking a step toward him, Breaker cocks his head to the side, the open appreciation as he licks his lips and eyes Viper, making Reaper and I raise our brows as we exchange a look.
Viper opens his mouth and to everyone’s surprise Breaker shoves four fingers past Viper’s lips, hooking his thumb under his chin and yanking him forward. Their chests crash together. Viper’s eyes somehow go wide and narrow all at once as his hands clamp down around Breaker’s neck.
“That’s right. You know where to go when you want to come.” Breaker leans down, dragging his tongue over Viper’s top lip. “You come to me, like a good boy.”
My balls tighten, and I lean forward, resting my hands on my knees, breath catching in my chest, unable to tear my eyes away. With all the kinky shit we’ve done, I have never once seen their mouths brush. Breaker has never attempted, hasn’t even come close to trying to kiss Viper. It’s never been this…
Intimate.
Or fucking erotic.
With his fingers still buried into his mouth, Breaker shoves Viper back against the doorframe, his massive body pressing into Viper’s shorter frame. He thrusts his hips, grinding his cock into Viper’s belt. My eyes slip down and I can’t seem to look away from the enormous bulge in Breaker’s pants and the way Viper thrusts his hips aggressively back into him.
“I know my good boy likes my cock shoved down his throat and my hand on his dick.” He brushes his lips to Viper’s ear and whispers loud enough that we all hear, “And when you think no one’s looking, when no one could hear, you would love to moan like my little whore when I fuck your ass again.”
With an angry roar, Viper shoves Breaker away, his cheeks heating in rage.
Breaker laughs, stumbling back, his eyes gleaming dangerously. What they do behind closed doors is not something we talk about. It doesn’t matter that we know.
“Fuck you, man,” Viper hisses, shoving again at Breaker’s chest. “Just fuck you!”
Breaker smirks, gripping his hard cock and shakes it tauntingly. When Viper shoves him again, Reaper barks out, “Enough!”
Chest heaving, and Viper noticeably hard, the two men back away from each other, Breaker grinning and Viper scowling.
“We are a unit,” Reaper says with a sigh. “We are brothers. What one does, we all do.”
“So I can go jerk off all over them too?” Breaker asks. “Because my balls hurt right now.”
Before Reaper can respond, a loud scraping noise cracks out from the camera on Delilah, making him clamp his mouth shut and lean forward. We all stop and inch closer to the screen, focusing on her tiny body dragging a chair across the room.
“What is she doing?” Breaker asks, gripping the back of a chair and leaning in closer.
“Probably something destructive,” I say, watching as she has to stop for a minute to catch her breath. She’s not eating enough, or drinking enough, and she looks like she’s lost weight.
“Isolation twists your mind,” Reaper says, finger tapping at the keyboard to change cameras. “You, Breaker, know more than anyone how being left alone makes you go crazy.”
Next to me, I feel Breaker’s chuckle when his arm brushes mine. I glance over to find him watching my face. When he winks, I look away.
He spent enough time in isolation. He knows exactly what she’s feeling right now. Chaotic. Not talking to anyone, no contact with any other living creature, draws things out of the mind that should be left hidden. Funny how the mind creates chaos when nothing else is present.
It takes her a few minutes, but she finally gets the chair near the window. The chair isn’t large, but it’s solid wood. Someone of her size—she’s barely two inches taller than our Little Flower—not eating properly the last seven days means she’s weak.
Seemingly satisfied with the chair’s location, Delilah flops down and stares out the window for a few minutes, chest heaving as she catches her breath. All I want to do is to march in there and force food down her throat until she’s gained the few pounds she’s lost and that hollowed out look leaves her eyes.
After a few minutes, she stands upright and turns to face the chair.
Reaper slowly stands, resting his knuckles on the desk, eyes narrowing.
Bending over, she grips the arms and tugs. The chair leaves the ground, then drops.
“She wouldn’t,” Breaker says, awe in his tone.
Reaper reaches for his mask, fisting it, the black lines of his tattoos harsh against the white knuckled grip on his mask. Rage paints his features dark, slashing his eyes with violence.
She does it again, managing to lift the chair in the air. Then we all watch as she swings, aiming for the window.