Striker

27. Chapter 22

My heart races as I slide the drawer closed and reach for a bottle of water lined on the counter. I glance over my shoulder, then slowly lift my foot as I watch the door behind me in case one of them walks into the kitchen. I slip the thin steak knife between my thick sock and my boot. The jagged teeth snag on my sock, and I have to readjust it but get it down far enough into my boot so none of them will notice it.

Bending over, I adjust the long laces of the leather combat boots just to be on the safe side. I don’t want to get stabbed by the damn thing before I can get to the long hallway that leads to the west wing of the house. It’s not like I plan on stabbing anyone with it, least of all myself. I just need something thin enough to pop the locks on the doors that access that part of the mansion. They have been letting me roam around the last few days, but it’s limited to a few rooms, which tells me one thing.

They are keeping Cora in the west wing.

The three men left me alone after we did our feeding ritual that I absolutely refuse to acknowledge I am starting to like, and I went to hide in my room for the rest of the day. When none of them came to get me for dinner, I realized that if I was going to get food; I had to go to them. I wasn’t ready to face them again, so I waited until the sky outside my window turned pink and came downstairs.

Striker may have told me I could go outside, but after last night, I’m hesitant to step through the front door, much less venture out to the driveway or past it again. At least not just yet.

It’s only been twenty-four hours since my trek through the woods, and whatever they’re doing with me is seriously fucking with my head. I’ve spent the last several hours thinking too long and hard about Reaper’s lesson, between my legs throbbing every time I remember my face down in the dirt and my ass in the air. Their hands on me. Reaper.

I wonder if they’re doing all this with Cora, too.

I wonder if her smart mouth got her a spanking, and a fucked up reward.

I wonder, too, what will happen if I disobey again.

I close my eyes, sucking in a breath to calm the desire that rushes through me at the thought of them holding me down again.

I’m a mess.

At least I know I am, so maybe that’s a plus.

I need to find Cora. If my brain is scrambled and I have a hard time separating the men who stormed the lobby, shot Manuel, and kidnapped us, then chased me through the woods with the men who feed me my favorite foods and gave me pretty dresses and boots that look like the ones they wear, I can only imagine how she must feel.

I’ve always been the logical one, to the point I was told I was cold and distant. Except for the night in the club, Cora’s the wild child, driven by her emotions, ready to dive headfirst without checking to make sure the water’s deep enough. If I’m feeling confused by being around them, she may very well be to the point of reckless by now.

That’s why I need to break into the other rooms and find her. We’re more logical together. We always have been. If we can just find each other, we can figure out what to do next.

Taking one last look around the kitchen, I turn around and scream, my hands flying to my mouth, my bottle of water hitting the floor with a thud and rolling to a stop at his boots.

Viper leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his massive chest. “What are you up to, Sweetheart?”

I lick my lips, sucking in a breath, my eyes moving from his biceps to the fangs on his skull mask.

His turquoise eyes narrow when I don’t answer, and he pushes off the doorframe to stand at his full height. He’s not nearly as tall as the other men, but just as powerful. Maybe even more so, with a sculpted, broad chest and thick thighs. I flash on him in the club, his hand on my jaw as his cock slid in and out of my mouth. I wanted to touch him then, but Reaper and Striker had restrained me.

I want to touch those thighs now.

“Sweetheart?” Viper says, stalking closer. “Your eyes have that glazed look like you get when you come.”

He stops in front of me. I take a step back, remembering how rough he can be. I pushed him earlier this afternoon, but the other men were there. I don’t know what he’ll do if no one is around to stop him.

“Did pretty kitty forget how to speak?” he asks, gaze dropping to my hands.

I clutch at the dress, trying to control my breathing. He will not hurt me, I tell myself, but I don’t know if I fully trust that. Like Reaper, he has a darker edge to him, though I think his is streaked with something slightly more untamed.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says.

I clench my jaw. I will not be intimidated by this man. He’s nothing compared to my father. Viper is just a large, sexy bully in a stupid mask that is currently trying to use his size to intimidate me into answering.

“I was thirsty,” I snap, unfurling my fingers from my dress, and I shove him aside. My hand lands on his thick arm, and damn him for the way it sends heat to my core. Whatever they did to me last night—hell, whatever they did to me in the club—has screwed me up mentally. I toss over my shoulder as I walk away, “Unless there are new rules, the last I checked, I am allowed to drink water without help.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sweetheart.” He grips my arm and spins me around, lowering his head to look into my eyes. This close, I can really see the vibrant color. Light blue, like turquoise gemstones, but woven with emerald green instead of rusted copper threads. My mother had loved the stone, once telling me it was one of the softness gems even though the blue color was created from traces of copper and the greener ones traces of iron.

Viper’s eyes are blue and green. Hard and soft.

“Where did you put it?”

I blink, biting my lip, too aware of his closeness and his familiar grip on my arm.

“Answer me, Sweetheart,” he says lowering his voice seductively. “We both know I’d love to give you a spanking.”

Jerking in his grip, I snap, “And we both know how much you wish it was Breaker’s ass you had your hands on.”

His eyes narrow and they no longer look soft or pretty. Viper tilts his head to the side, still holding me still with his gaze. “Where did you put it?”

Damn it.There is no way he saw me take the knife. Even if there are cameras in here, I was careful to hide it when I opened the drawers to peek inside, making it look like I was searching for food or a cup when I went rummaging through the cabinets, looking for a tool.

“Your criminal activities are making you paranoid,” I snap and twist out of his grasp, relief flooding me when I feel his fingers slip away and let me go.

The instinct to run eats at my gut, but I push it down as I stalk from the kitchen and head for the front of the house. As I walk past the dining room and the piano room, I can feel him at my heels, following just far enough behind to put me on edge. Just far enough that two, maybe three of his strides could close the distance and he’d be on me.

Right before I reach the foyer, I feel him bolt closer. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and just as I’m about to break into a run, he slides around me, dips down, digging his huge shoulder into my stomach, and hoists me over his shoulder. My scream echoes through the empty hall.

“Hush, now, Sweetheart,” he growls, patting my rear. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have by now.”

“Put me down!” I scream, hitting his back with my fists. Bending my knee, I kick upward, trying to connect with his face, but he clamps his hand down on my thigh to hold me in place.

“Hold still.” Viper turns abruptly and stops in a long, dark hallway. I hear the jangle of keys and hear a lock slide, then a door clicks open. Placing my hands on his lower back, I try to shift so I can see behind me, but the angle won’t allow it.

“What are you doing?” I ask, panic climbing up my throat.

He doesn’t answer. He stops walking and kicks the door closed behind him. I reach for it, trying to grip the rough wood to keep it open or use it to—I don’t fucking know—but it slips past my fingers as he carries me into the room.

The last thing I want is to be alone in a room with Viper. I can still hear his cruel laughter cutting through the woods last night.

With panic still climbing higher, I look around the room and realize it’s completely empty save for the thick drapes and a huge oriental rug. The only light, the dim purple of dusk, bleeding across the floor through the open drapes. He stops in the center of the room and grips my hips, setting me down in front of him. I back away, feeling like a caged animal, my heart hammering, watching him for any sign of danger.

“What are you doing?” I ask again, eyes darting to his hand as it moves to a sheath at the side of his belt.

That’s when I noticed the knife.

A hunting knife.

On instinct, I kick, hitting him in his shin and attempt to run past him. Viper grunts but grips me by the back of my neck.

“Fuck, you’re a wild little thing,” he says, dragging me back, turning me to face him, my chest crashing to his. His eyes gleam dangerously, his gaze dropping to my mouth as I open it, ready to scream. Viper’s free hand clamps over my lips and he whispers, “Shhh, sweet girl. If you scream, I’ll have to gag you.”

My knees grow weak at the same moment my clit throbs. I’m aware my response is royally fucked, just as I’m suddenly acutely aware of his dick straining under his pants and pressing into my belly.

“Where did you put it?” he asks quietly, watching my eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, but his hand still covers my mouth, muffling my words.

“You took something from the kitchen.”

If his hand wasn’t already covering my mouth, I’d clamp my lips shut.

“So where is it?” Viper says, slowly lowering his hand.

Shit.Did one of them see me on camera? Or is he guessing?

Refusing to answer, I remain still as Viper releases his hold and backs away. He’s barely visible in the low light, just glowing predatory eyes and a shadowy outline, but I feel like I can breathe again now that a few feet separate us, and suck in a slow breath, resisting the urge to press my thighs together.

“Hand it over, Sweetheart,” Viper says, eyes lowering to my chest, then lower between my thighs like he can sense the carnal pulse in my core. “I’ll have to search you if you don’t.”

My heart slams into my ribcage. He has to be guessing. If he’d seen me take the knife, he’d go straight for my boot.

He makes a light tsking sound when I don’t move or speak, then says, “Strip search it is,” and steps forward.

Just as his words register, he’s dropping, thighs bulging as he dips, gripping my thigh and swinging my body downward, and before I can react, before I can scream, I’m on my back. My hands reach for him as I land, tucking my head into his chest and I grab at him, fisting his shirt, a low squeal slipping out as he shifts and is suddenly between my thighs.

Shit, he’s fast, I think the same moment I realize he took me down in a matter of seconds, and isusing his larger body to pin me to the ground. He slips the hunting knife from its sheath and a rush of fear makes me dizzy. With his free hand, Viper grips my throat and presses the flat side of the blade to the front of my dress between my breasts.

“Where did you hide it?” he asks, his face just a black blur, his massive form a silhouette against the open curtains behind him. The knife catches the row of buttons on the front of my dress. “Is it here?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, intending to sound hostile, but fear makes my voice tremble.

“Did you tuck it away under your pretty dress?” he asks, voice husky. I gasp, feeling the slight movement of the knife. He flicks his wrist, and a button flies off. My heart hammers so hard, but I dare not move as he flicks another button, the pinging sound of it landing on the wood floor feels like a shotgun ripping through me. “Where did you put it, Sweetheart. Tell me and make this easier on yourself.”

When I don’t answer, he places the side of the blade along the front of my dress, hooking the neckline with the tip, and tugs. I freeze, terror tingling up my hands, moving up my arms, and locking my jaw. The knife slices cleanly through the thin material. The dress falls open, revealing my cotton bra. He makes a sound in his throat, eating up the sight of my pebbled nipples under the material.

Viper leans back just enough to pull the knife lower, cutting the dress all the way to my waist. As he moves back, my thighs spread wider around him, making me aware of how sexual this position is. Releasing my neck, he adjusts his hold on his knife, angling the blade away from me, then grips the cut material and rips it open. Like the sound and his movement are attached to a string in my flesh, I feel the dress tear open as if he were tearing my skin apart, making my body arch up, shoulders pressing into the rug beneath me.

I’m so stunned, I can barely breathe, much less move, so I lie frozen, gasping for air as his gleaming eyes drink in the sight of my exposed flesh.

“Do you know you whimper when you sleep?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He gently spreads my dress out, laying the fabric open on the floor like torn wings. “You make these little sounds that remind me of when you’re about to come.”

The mention of me sleeping reminds me they watch me all the time. The reminder of him knowing what I look like as I come makes heat pool between my thighs. His gaze drops to my panties. The way he reacts to me, reacting to him feels like he can see that feral creature they created last night hidden under all my layers, and he’s beckoning her to him.

And part of me wants to let her out again.

“You made those sounds last night as Reaper spanked your beautiful pussy.” Viper lowers the knife and places it on my belly. My stomach dips, fear and cold making my breaths seize. He grips the inside of my thigh, near the seam of my underwear, and I clench my jaw to keep from moving, scared the long blade will cut into my skin. His thumb skims over my panties. I know I’m wet. I feel it dampening the fabric. Now he does, too. He shifts, pressing into me harder, eyes moving over me again. “When you were begging us.”

I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut, fighting that primal part of me that wants to tilt into his touch.

He slides the back of his hand along my thigh and grips under my calf. He lifts my leg, bracing my ankle on his shoulder. My fingers splay on the cold wood floor. Turning his head, he presses his masked mouth to my inner calf, placing soft kisses on my skin as he slides his covered lips to my ankle.

I freeze when he grips my boot.

“Do you dream of us, Sweetheart?” he whispers. His masked face is in profile, and the light behind him filters through just enough, letting me see the outline of a nose. “All of us between your thighs. Your pussy filled with our cum?”

I swallow, chest heaving.

“But you weren’t dreaming of us last night, were you?” he asks. “You have bad dreams, don’t you?”

My mind trips over his words. They must have watched me on camera when I woke screaming. Did they see me wake, knowing I had a nightmare and still chase me? Still play a game that ended with me on my hands in knees?

I’m not sure how I feel about them knowing I have nightmares. It makes me feel weak. Vulnerable.

I don’t like it.

“You know we watch you,” he whispers. “Always. Every second of the day, we know where you are.”

Fear slithers down my spine. He knows. He’s just been toying with me.

With his other hand, Viper unlaces my boot, slowly, methodically loosening one lace at a time until I may pass out from the slick feeling moving through my gut. Then he grips the handle of the steak knife, and rips it free with such force I jerk, the cold blade on my stomach slipping upward.

“You and cutlery,” he says, placing another gentle kiss on my inner leg. “If you tried to stab one of us with this, you’d only piss us off.”

Except I wasn’t planning on stabbing. I just wanted to pop a few locks.

“You’d need something sharper. Something that cuts cleaner so you can press it in deeper.” Viper reaches around his back and whips his arm out, gripping a small knife. The blade gleams in the faint light spilling from behind him. He flips the blade, and it closes, then he does it again. When he repeats the movement, I realize he’s showing me how the blade quickly pops open. How to hold it. That the knife is meant to be held backward, away from the body, the blade extending outward from the palm, the hilt up by the thumb.

He flicks the knife closed, then glides the back of his fingers across my cheek. “Pretty little girls should be scared when they’re trapped in a house with men who want to eat them alive.”

My pussy flutters.

“If our sweet girl needs to feel safe, take this. I won’t tell them our secret, mo leannan.” He slips the knife in my boot and reties the laces. “Put it under your pillow at night. Then maybe when you have another nightmare, you’ll know you’re armed and can fight.”

Viper drops my leg and grabs his knife on my stomach, re-sheathing it as he stands. He doesn’t look back as he walks from the room. I watch his solid back as he walks down the hall, then disappears around the corner.

Gathering my dress, I cover my breasts, sitting upright. Viper was the one that felt more dangerous than the others.

He’s also just handed me a tiny piece of safety.

Without the other’s knowing.