20. Vani
CHAPTER 20
Vani
I toss and turn for hours, but sleep eludes me.
I’m a sticky, needy mess. I took care of myself as soon as I got back to my room, climbing into the shower and masturbating, my bare breasts pressed against the cold shower wall, and my hand between my thighs to strum my clit. It wasn’t enough. I need more. They kept me on edge all night and then just left me hanging. I did find myself tempted to go to the bar and pick someone up, but I know I could never do that. It’s just not me. Plus, there’s the lingering, deep knowledge that, if I did so, I would possibly be signing the death warrant of whoever I’d picked up. I honestly think the Vipers are so obsessed with me they might kill someone who touched me.
I moan and throw an arm over my forehead. I’ve never been so beside myself with need in my entire life.
I can’t help thinking about what Saint said when I’d been all tied up and begging for their secrets. He’d said their nanny had taken their virginity at age fourteen, but, if that’s true, there’s more to it. A grown woman—I assume from the fact she was their nanny, and they were teenagers—sleeping with fourteen-year-old boys isn’t her ‘taking their virginity.’ That’s sexual assault of a minor.
Do they know this? Has that clicked in their heads? Or are they telling themselves it was all consensual. Because a fourteen-year-old can’t consent. That’s the whole point.
I imagine how differently this would be viewed if they’d both been fourteen-year-old girls, and the person who’d taken their virginity had been a grown man? There would have been uproar. I’m sure Europeans are more laissez-faire than we are in America, but even so…
It goes a long way to explaining why they’re so fucked up about sex—why they work as a pair? They said she took their virginity, so I assume at the same time. Is their need for degradation and praise some way of coping with that?
It troubles me, and what troubles me even more is the possibility that they don’t understand how serious it is. That they’ve somehow convinced themselves experiencing something like that is normal.
My heart breaks a little for what they’ve been through, but I don’t want it to. I don’t want to empathize with them. They’re fucked up assholes, and they don’t believe a word I say. They want to screw with me.
Zane’s words also haunt me. They were so fucking sad. He hates himself and what he’s become. That makes me feel like pulling him in for a huge hug, but he’d hate that. Hate pity. The way he told me then threw the comment away as if it meant nothing is so Zane.
It meant something.
God, these men! They are so incredibly frustrating but also intriguing, gorgeous, intelligent, and in the case of Saint with his paintings, and Zane with his deep thoughts, they’re the very definition of still waters running deep.
The Vipers have completely and utterly ruined the chance of me having anything with anyone else, and they seem as obsessed with me as I am with them.
A tempting idea dances at the forefront of my mind. I don’t think they’d kill each other over me, so if I seduced one of them, I wouldn’t be putting that person’s life in danger.
They’d argue, of course, and possibly have a huge bust-up, but their bond is too deep for them to ever seriously hurt each other. And don’t I want them to fight? Isn’t that part of the tentative plan that’s forming in my mind?
Divide and conquer.
It’s dangerous, but it’s also far too intriguing for me to push it away entirely. It would give me an idea, as well, of just how much power I have over any of them, and whether or not my greater plan has even a chance of working. If I go to seduce one of them tonight, will they give in to me? Or will they send me away in keeping with the rules?
Which one, though? Which one of the Vipers to try my plan out with?
Saint will probably tell me to get lost because he’s just that angry with me right now. He also thinks he’s the one in control of all this, and that the rules are his. Also, I really don’t want to be alone with him because I’m so angry with him, I might end up stabbing him with my keys.
Lex will probably try to do what his brother told him to and keep me on edge. Even if he doesn’t, then he’ll do his usual caring routine, and I don’t need that right now.
It leaves only one option.
The perfect option.
The one who doesn’t care what the other two tell him to do.
He’s their friend, and I think he loves them as if they’re his brothers, but he’s not scared of anybody. Not Saint, or Lex, or even the dean, and most certainly not me. He’s also a natural born rule breaker, and deep down, I think he’s lonely. I think he craves connection, and he can’t get it from conversation, so touch is really important to him.
Yes, it has to be Zane.
I’ve still got the imprints in my skin from the ropes they used on me. They’ve faded a lot, but they’re still present. I run my thumb over the red marks, a fresh erotic thrill going through me.
I dress in a hurry, choosing my outfit carefully. It’s a tight, strapless dress that hugs all my curves. I rarely wear it, because I can’t wear a bra with it. I bought it on a whim a few years ago, and it’s been hanging in my closet, never worn. Sometimes I look at it longingly, and wish I was the kind of girl who could wear a dress like that. The kind of slim, pretty, all-American girl who gets the guy and the happy ever after.
Still, this outfit will be perfect for tonight.
Once I’m in the dress, I take off my panties and throw them into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. I won’t be needing those. I slip my feet into a pair of sneakers and pull a loose, oversized sweater over my head for the walk through the halls. I don’t need anyone to see me sneaking around with half my cleavage hanging out at three in the morning.
I sneak out into the hallway, checking no one is around, and close the door behind me. Zane lives in the same wing as me—hence us being in the same house—but his room is on the top floor and is way bigger than most of the rest of ours. His family must be paying a pretty penny for it, and I wonder how much of that is guilt money about what happened to him.
Thankfully, the halls are quiet, and I don’t bump into anyone else. No one questions me about where I’m going.
I reach Zane’s room, lift my fist to knock on the door, and then hesitate. Out of the three of them, Zane is the one who’s a dark horse. I think I’m starting to get a read on the twins, and as dark and depraved as they are, and they are extremely dark and depraved, at least I can kind of guess where their reactions are going to go at any given time.
Zane is an entirely different matter.
I think back to that time in the field, the one time when I truly did feel that something had happened to me almost without my consent. What Zane did to me then was such a head fuck that I’ve thought about it many times since.
Still, it’s the danger of him I like the most.
I bite my lip and summon my courage before I knock on the door three times. There’s no answer, so I knock again. Louder this time.
“Shut the fuck up,” someone shouts from a few doors down.
Shit, if he doesn’t answer soon, I’ll have to leave. I can’t get reported to the dean, because he really will send me packing if I get into any more trouble. I stare at the wooden door as if I can will it to disappear and sigh in frustration. Fine, I’ll just have to go back to bed and endure a sleepless night.
As I turn, the door mechanism clicks. The door swings open, and Zane appears in the gap, scowling out into the hallway. His eyes widen at the sight of me standing there.
I know that he won’t let me in if I tell him why I’m here, not initially. So, I do what they keep doing to me, and what they keep accusing me of doing.
I lie.
“I need your help,” I say. “I think I’m in trouble.”
His brow furrows, but he steps back and lets me into the room. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low slung, soft, gray shorts. They’re made of sweatpant material, and they cling lovingly to what he’s packing. I find myself staring at it and licking my lips without even thinking. As my gaze drags up his hugely muscular body, covered in amazing ink, it meets his, and he narrows his eyes.
He grabs a notebook and a small pen and writes quickly.
As he’s writing, I take a seat on a comfortable occasional chair in the corner. I figure it’ll be harder for him to throw me out if I’m sitting.
He shoves the paper under my nose and taps it so I read what he’s written.
What do you need help with? How are you in trouble?
I glance up at him, peeking from under my lashes.
“Phew, it’s warm in here.” I ignore his questions and flap my hand across my face.
He angles his head, one eyebrow pulling down in confusion about what I’m doing. It’s really not that warm. My palms are damp with nerves.
I reach to the bottom of my oversized sweater and drag it up and over my head. My long hair catches for a moment, but then falls around my face and shoulders as I drop the sweater to the floor beside me. I toe off my sneakers and let them drop too.
Now Zane’s eyebrows are lifted, his eyes wide. His gaze rakes down my body and the ‘leave nothing to the imagination’ skintight dress I’m barely wearing. My tits have almost fallen out of the top, and my nipples are hard beneath the fabric.
His focus locks on them, and a slow swallow rolls down his thick throat.
I bite my lower lip and try to act coy. “Oops, think I forgot to put on a bra before I left my room. I wonder if I forgot my panties, too.”
I slowly part my legs and lift my dress higher up my thighs. I’ve never done anything like this in my life, and my heart is pounding so fast I’m sure he can see my pulse beating in my throat.
He stares at my hands as they move the material higher, higher, ever higher until I’m fully exposed to him.
The red imprints are still on my skin from where the rope dug into me, and it’s as though they’ve created tattoos, even though they’ll fade eventually. I’m a little disappointed that they will. I shouldn’t want to see them. I have to remind myself what these assholes have done—how they won’t believe me, even when I’m telling them the truth, and now they’re leaving sick messages everywhere for me to find. It doesn’t stop them being hot as hell, though, and I remember why I’m here. If they’re going to treat me like a fuck toy, then I’ll do whatever it takes to tear the three of them apart.
With one hand, I reach between my legs and part myself. I’m so wet, and so swollen after having both my poor abused ass and pussy fucked over and over by three men all evening, that I know he’ll be turned on.
A quick glimpse of the front of his sweat shorts confirms that my attempts are working. Fuck, he’s tenting the material to a point that it would almost be comical if I didn’t know what a huge, fucking pierced monster he has under there.
“I need help,” I say all breathy, my cheeks and chest warm with arousal. “It hurts. Can’t you make it feel better? The other two don’t have to know. It’ll be our little secret.”
He shakes his head and writes furiously on the pad. I think he’s going to snap his pen in half if he’s not careful.
He shoves it under my face.
Get out of here, Vani .
“Please,” I whisper. “I need something to fill me up. I ache. I want your cock so badly. It’s all I can think about.”
Then I lift my feet and use the armrests to raise myself a little higher. I slide my feet underneath my thighs, so they are on the chair, knees spread, and everything on display for him.
He stares at me, his jaw working, and then he silently snarls and picks me up as if I’m a feather, not a woman with a healthy number of curves.
He throws me on the bed and yanks down the front of my dress, pulling it all the way down my body and legs until he leaves me completely naked.
Dragging his sweat shorts down his thick thighs and kicking them away, Zane fists his massive cock and does that thing he always does, where he flicks the piercing.
“Does that feel good?” I ask. “Can I?”
He climbs onto the bed, over me, and I wrap my hands around his cock. God, he’s so big, my pussy clenches with need. I stroke him a couple of times and then flick at the piercings in the same way he did. He clenches his teeth and sucks in air, almost as though he’s in pain, though I know it’s not the reason.
He stares down into my eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s looking at me with anger or passion. His big hand finds the side of my face, his fingers digging into my hair, and he kisses me, hard. His tongue ploughs into my mouth, and I tighten my grip on his cock and moan around his tongue.
I lift my feet and hook them around his hips. I want his cock inside me, but I feel him holding back.
He sighs against me, silent and beautiful, and my heart twinges. No, I tell myself. This is nothing but a plan for revenge. That’s it. Nothing more. They don’t get to set the rules anymore. I’m taking back control.
I pull him closer, and his cock nudges my sopping opening. I’m so swollen from earlier that I wonder if he’ll struggle to fit, but he slides inside, stretching me around his girth. I cry out at how good it feels, and he slams his hand over my mouth.
Needing more, I dig my fingers into his ass and yank him into me, thrusting my hips up to meet his rhythm. Our bodies slam together, and I part my lips to nip at one of his fingers still covering my mouth. It only makes him clamp down harder, and somehow, having his huge body covering me, and being pinned down with his hand over my mouth, only makes me hotter.
Soon, the bed is squeaking, my tits are bouncing, and we’re both panting. I am going to come, my climax right there, hovering on the brink. With Zane and his magic cock, with its piercings hitting me right where I need it, I don’t even need to touch my clit.
It’s building and building, and when it hits, I squeeze my eyes shut.
Click . The sound has my lids shooting open. Zane has snapped his fingers at me. He points between our eyes, and I realize he wants my gaze on him as I come.
I stare at him as he fucks into me, and I break. I pant, and moan, and my nails drag down his shoulders as I orgasm, covering him in my wetness.
His mouth drops open as he comes too, releasing himself inside me. Silent. Intense. Beautiful.
We slump together, our hearts racing, our bodies damp with sweat. He lifts his weight from me, but I pull him back, wanting to kiss him. He shakes his head, his eyes darkening.
I offer him a nervous smile. “Don’t be angry. I needed this, and you were there for me. They don’t have to know.” He frowns, and I take his cheeks in my hands. “They treat you like you’re theirs to order around. Well, Saint does, especially. I suppose he treats everyone that way, but you’re better than that. You should be the leader, really.”
I kiss him, tentative at first, testing him again. At first, he resists, but then he relaxes. We break apart, and he falls onto his back. I curl against his chest, my arms around him.
“Thank you. This can be our secret. We won’t have to tell anyone else.”
I haven’t decided whether to tell Saint and Lex. I’m unsure as to which way will wreak the most havoc, and that’s my goal now.
Will Zane keeping this secret create more of a wedge between them, or me telling the other two what we did and dropping Zane in it?
I think it will eat him up, keeping the secret, and I think that they will be able to tell there’s something up. Lex, especially. He seems sensitive to other people, and what they’re thinking and feeling.
I can think about it, though, after a good night’s sleep. Which I’m sure I’m going to get now, thanks to Zane.
“I have to go back to my room,” I tell him. “I can’t go to class in the morning looking like this.”
Not only am I sweaty and have his cum dripping down the inside of my thighs, but my clothes are also wholly inappropriate for class.
He nods, and a part of me wishes that he’d put up a bit of a fight and ask me to stay. Maybe write down that he doesn’t want me to leave, and that he can’t stand to sleep without me tonight. But he does none of those things, and I remind myself that this is just sex. No feelings involved.
I kiss him one more time, and then get out of the bed and put my clothes on. I walk into the bathroom and quickly use the facilities. I wash my hands at the sink and check out my reflection in the mirror above to make sure I don’t look too disheveled.
I use the small towel hanging from a hook next to the sink to dry my hands, and as I’m about to turn, I catch my reflection in the mirror once more?—
A shriek bursts from my lungs.
Zane is standing right behind me, and he has a knife in his hand, the blade pointed at my neck. I freeze, my heart clattering against the inside of my ribs. The air is trapped in my lungs, and I can’t seem to either inhale or exhale.
He taps the blade against my throat.
“Zane!” I manage to squeak.
Oh, my God, I think I’ve totally underestimated this man. Is he going to do something insane?
I don’t dare move, terrified that trying to run will prompt him to do something terrible.
He traces the knife down my throat, following the large vein there almost lovingly. He watches me in the mirror, and then leans in and kisses my cheek, while the tip of the blade presses hard enough to cause me a flash of pain. A tiny pinprick of blood blooms on my skin, and I suck in air desperately. My nipples tighten, and my core contracts.
“Please,” I beg, though I’m not completely sure what I’m begging for.
For him to release me, to not hurt me, to let me go?
Or for him to take me back to bed and fuck me all over again because crazy Zane is also undeniably hot Zane.
Zane bends down, moves the knife away, and slowly licks that one drop of blood. His eyes stay locked on mine in the mirror. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then runs his fingers—of the hand not holding the knife—through my hair and arranges it prettily over my shoulders.
He walks out, leaving me alone once more. I’m shaking all over, and the tiny nick on my neck continues to bleed. I grab a wad of toilet paper and bunch it to my skin until the bleeding stops. When I finally compose myself enough to leave the bathroom, I find him sitting in the same chair I had been in earlier. He holds out one hand and, between two fingers, is a piece of paper.
The note reminds me of the one I got under my door, and I hitch a breath. Is he the person responsible?
Still trembling, I take the note and read it.
Don’t take me for a fool, Venom, darling. That would be a dangerous thing for you to do. I hope you sleep now that you’ve got what you needed.
Holy hell, I’m playing with fire.
I swallow hard and grab my sweater, pulling it over my head. Before I leave the room, I risk one last glance back at Zane, but his expression is impenetrable.
I don’t know what the hell he is thinking.
Have I just made a terrible mistake?