Chapter 17
Viper
I’ve never been a good person, preferring to balance on the thread of complete blackness, and when I saw her covered in blood yesterday, my heart hammered inside my ribcage until my cock twitched painfully.
She’s fucking intoxicating, and I can’t wait to see the fury simmer beneath her skin when she awakens, realizing what I have in store for her.
Nestled on a carpet at the far end of the open cottage—purchased with the fortune I inherited from Louis García—her naked form slumps against the floor with only a thin blanket covering her legs, leaving her curves exposed to my hungry gaze.
Nipple clamps are fastened on her buds, and a collar encircles her throat, tethering her to the cage enveloping her. It’s human-sized, designed to confine her to a seated position and restrict her movements.
Her nipples are hard from the cool air, but I’ve already stoked the fire in the fireplace, so it’ll be warm soon enough. She’s out cold after I drugged her water yesterday. Even now, my cock strains against my sweatpants as I look at her. Patience has never been my virtue, especially when it comes to her.
I perch on the chair before the cage with a relaxed posture, crossing one leg over the other. My bare chest displays my tattoos, and I recall how her gaze lingered on the letter A inked into my skin, undoubtedly curious about its meaning. Yet, she never voiced her question aloud.
I had it tattooed the day I had to leave, as a memory and promise to never let her go, never stop fighting for what’s ultimately mine.
Yesterday, we spent the night planning the upcoming heist. She sent a message to Alec Valenti—courtesy of me—assuring him she was okay and conserving her energy for the task ahead.
I wait, observing her vulnerable, beautiful frame inside the cage. When her eyes flutter open, a soft groan escapes her, stirring a primal desire that makes blood rush to my cock. I imagine she must be sore from sleeping on the hard floor.
As she reaches for her head, groaning with discomfort, she remains oblivious to the collar and leash restraining her.
Her eyes adjust to the dimness, and she slowly sits up, only to bump her head against the cage’s metallic roof, causing her to hiss out a breath. I chuckle involuntarily, and her eyes snap to mine. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, tension crackling between us. Her eyes flicker to my gloved hand resting atop my knee, a flicker of something unknown passing over her features. Perhaps she remembers how I got the scars marring my hand, and why I cover them with gloves.
She rubs her eyes, blinking away the remnants of her tiredness until her surroundings come into focus. Her gaze darts around the cottage, noticing the bars encircling her within the cage.
She sits up faster this time, careful not to hit her head as she wraps the blanket around herself. She crawls toward the metal bars nearest to me, the clinking of the collar and leash serving as a testament to her confinement. Her eyes smolder with unseen rage, knuckles whitening from the harsh grip in which she grips the bar.
“What the fuck, Viper?” she growls. I can almost envision tiny puffs of smoke emanating from her ears.
A smirk tugs at my lips, cruel and taunting, as I meet her fiery gaze with an air of nonchalance. Seeing her react like this over something I caused is kind of… cute.
“I couldn’t risk you running away again until I know for sure you won’t leave.” My voice is calm and unbothered as I grab a glass of water from the table and take a sip. I extend it toward her, but she shakes her head, the stubborn woman.
“So you decided to lock me in a cage?”
I shrug indifferently. “You look so pretty all locked up.”
Her chest heaves with humiliation, and she desperately looks around, trying to find a way out of there. She won’t find one without my permission. There’s only one key.
She leans her head against the bars, closing her eyes as if fighting nausea. I might have given her too many sleeping pills.
“The drugs should be wearing off any second now.”
“You fucking drugged me?” She attempts to push and pull on the bar, but they’re steadfast, unmoving.
“I couldn’t risk waking you.”
“I’ll fucking kill you,” she pointlessly warns, knowing damn well I’m not threatened by her.
“You will crawl and beg for me, too. Don’t throw empty threats you can’t uphold.” I look at her as I stand from the chair, crouching beside the cage as my hand strokes her cheek tenderly.
She unconsciously leans against it before quickly gaining self-awareness. That’s when I grab her throat through the cage, making her whimper, and something feral comes alive inside me. I cut off the oxygen entering her lungs, and she looks at me with a kind of lust that begs me to fuck her, even if she’s too stubborn to admit it.
“I’ll never beg you.”
“We’ll see about that,” I challenge, tugging on the leash attached to her collar, forcing her even closer to the bars.
Her breasts are pressed against the cold metal, and she lets out another whimper, her cheeks flushed with untold desire.
With my leather-clad hand, my finger prods her lips until they instinctively open. She squirms, her thighs pressing together as if I make her all fuzzy.
She sucks on my finger, and I can’t help but let out a growl of something dark, only to be interrupted by the sharp pain of her bite. I hiss, pulling my hand back and glaring at her. Now, it’s her turn to smile triumphantly at me, like a lioness thinking she’s won—it only makes me want to dominate her further.
“I warned you.”
I hum, feeling a thrill through me as I pull out the knife from my pocket, inching closer to her. With the leash in one hand, I guide her to the edge of the small cage, the glint of the blade barely grazing her skin, drawing a small trickle of blood. She tries to move away, but I keep her in place.
Watching the blood trickle down her leg, I crave more, envisioning her bathed in blood—a gorgeous fucking sight—but I remind myself that I need her alive more than I need her dead. She’s my hell and heaven wreaking havoc over my soul. My devangel.
Pulling the leash, she’s forced onto all fours, struggling to breathe as I tie the end of it to a hook beside the cage. With her trapped in place, I walk to the other side, taking in the sight of her pussy on full display for me. The confinement of the cage forces her legs apart, and she’s fucking dripping.
My depraved little devil.
There’s a hitch in her breath when she fights to get out of the cage once more. “Let me out,” she whispers, but I ignore her. “Please, let me out.” Her voice quivers, but I’m drawn to her vulnerability, relishing the power I hold over her.
Ignoring her continuous pleas, I strip away my sweatpants and boxers, knowing that while she might struggle to breathe in the confined space, she’s soaked for me, nearly staining the blanket beneath. My cock springs free, and I stroke it leisurely, watching her grind her hips against the air. Her pink pussy is exposed, making her all the more sensitive, goosebumps spreading over her body. She craves my touch, yearning for the stimulation only I can offer.
Reaching between the bars, I adjust her position so her pussy and ass are on full display for me, the chain tightening its hold and making her gasp for breath. I dip a finger inside her, and she moans unabashedly. Her reaction betrays her initial fear when desire takes over, and instead of succumbing to panic from the enclosed space, she eagerly grinds her hips against my hand, craving more.
Pre-cum leaks from my tip, close to where my two piercings are, and I’m unable to resist anymore. I get on my knees, positioning her hips so her ass is in the air, allowing me access. Desire pulsates through me as I prod her entrance, and inch by inch, she takes me. I thrust into her, filling her up until she’s moaning and whimpering, begging for more while pleading to be let out of the cage.
Fuck . It feels so good to be inside her again, like driving home after so long.
“You’re taking me so well,” I moan out, thrusting faster, driving deeper inside her until she nearly falls over inside the cage, but the leash and collar keep her upright. “You think you can take a finger in that pretty asshole?” I don’t give her a chance to reply.
I spit down onto her asshole, the saliva acting as a lubricant as I carefully insert a finger inside her. She clenches tightly around my digit, her moans growing louder as I continue to fuck her through the cage.
“Don’t think we’re over after this heist,” I threaten.
She’s unable to reply because her delicate moans mingle with sniffles, revealing her conflicted emotions about everything transpiring around us. She shudders in my hold, her climax building rapidly. I quicken my pace, causing her to reach the peak of pleasure, dragging me along with her. My chest heaves with exertion, my obsession for her only growing stronger.
“Fuck. You’re so fucking delicate when you come.”
“I still hate you,” she stutters out, her eyes glazing over and breathing quickening. “You’re a monstrous grave that sent me to my ruin and shattered everything I was. But I can’t let you go.” I swear I see a tear trickle down her cheek, and my shoulders instantly stiffen, not knowing how to handle her emotions. “For so long, I tried to forget about you. You’re like a disease, pestering inside me until I have no choice but to oblige.”
“I take that as a compliment,” I mutter, locking eyes with her.
In that instant, I vow to never let her go ever again. She’s fucking mine.