“The thing you want most…” My eyes go to his cock, and he laughs harder. I should take this bottle of water and ram it down his charming fucking throat. But then his next words have me perking up and forgetting about making the snake deep throat a bottle. “Your freedom.”
My gaze snaps to his. “You’re messing with me.”
“I could be, or maybe I’m just that sure I’ll win.” He shrugs, watching me with those dark eyes.
“So what do you win?” I ask, scared if that’s my prize, then his is something worse.
He leans closer, dropping all pretense of charm. His eyes are hungry as they dip to my lips then to my body, caressing every inch of me and leaving me almost trembling with desire. “You,” he rasps.
Fuck.
Fuck on a stick.
Why does my pussy clench?
“The game?” I question, and my voice is more breathless than I would like.
“Poker,” he answers, and I snort.
“Hell no, you’re a fucking bookie. I’m betting you’re amazing at that.” I roll my eyes.
He sighs, but that smirk covers his lips again. “Not the only thing I’m amazing at…but smart, darling. Fine, you pick.”
I run my eyes around the apartment, trying to think of something, anything, I could win against this man, this Viper, who’s right next to me, coiled to strike and eat me whole. Bar games, think, Rox. I’m good at them. “You got cups?”
Fuck, why is that the first game I can think of? Because he’s too close, smelling like all man, and I want to taste that, to feel him, and he’s distracting me.
“Yes,” he replies. I nod, and he motions to the kitchen. I leap up and run into the kitchen, opening cupboards until I find what I need. Am I really going to do this? Gamble my freedom and body?
Yes.
Grabbing some beer from the fridge, I head to the table and spread them out opposite each other. “Really?” He snorts. “Are we teenagers?”
“Scared you’ll lose?” I smirk as I pour the beer.
“Nope, bring it on, darling.” He grins.
I pick up the first cup, and he copies me. “First one to finish them all wins. Simple. Not easy to cheat. Three, two, one, go!” I shout, and down the cup. Wiping my mouth after, I flip it and it lands top down, he gapes at me when he finishes his. “I own a bar, darling,” I taunt, before moving onto my next.
He swears and flips his, but it doesn’t land the first time, although he gets it on the second. I carry on drinking before flipping. I’m on my third, and he’s on his second, but I can’t get the bastard to flip. I try again and again, watching nervously as he catches up, lands his third cup, and moves onto the fourth. Shit.
Fuck, he’s winning. Desperation fills me so I cheat. I lean down and flash my tits, and he chokes on his next sip, giving me time to knock back that cup, flip it, and move on.
What’s the worst that could happen? He already owns me, so if there is a chance at freedom, I have to take it. It keeps floating through my head as I drink, my eyes on him.
I down it and flip it, but we’re neck and neck. On the last cup. Our eyes lock as we chug it, then he yanks down his trousers, flashing me his cock. I actually choke on my beer, and it gives him the time he needs to flip it.
I stare at him, the cup still held to my lips, beyond shocked. I lost.
I lost.
He smirks and wipes his mouth. “I think I’ll collect now,” he murmurs, and prowls around the table towards me. His eyes are hungry, his body flexes, and his cock is hardening and pressing against his joggers. I back away, fear and desire blooming within me.
I didn’t think I could lose, and if I did…I thought I could handle it. Now I don’t know if I can. I want him, sure, my pussy is already wet from the thought, but Kenzo… Fuck, any of the Vipers are dangerous to more than just my body.
Like an obsession. Or a drug.
“Rematch?” I offer, keeping the table between us, but he leaps over it, landing right in front of me.
“No, fair is fair. Pay up, darling.” He chuckles.
I stumble back and dart away, but he catches me, his hand sweeping out and throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal and slap at his back, but he just throws me onto the sofa where I bounce, gasping. Looking up, I push the hair from my face as I find him staring down at me. He must see my fear, because he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his dice.
“I’ll give you a different game, though, guess the number. If you’re right, you’re safe, and if not, you have to take off an item of clothing.”
“What?” I gape.
He steps closer. “Unless you just want me to rip them from your body.”
Erm, yes please.
But also, fuck no at the same time.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
“That’s the plan, darling. Guess.” He grins.
I panic. “Seven”
He throws the dice, catching them expertly. With a wink, he shows the dice. Fuck. “Top,” he demands.
“No,” I snarl, but reach down and yank off my shoes, throwing them at him. They hit his chest and bounce off, making his grin grow. “You fucking bastard! Is this the only way you can get a woman?”
Even as I spit vile words at him, I can’t help but pant, my legs clenching together as he watches me, his focus fully on my body. Like he can’t wait to eat me, fuck me, have me. Instead of forcing me like they could have, he won fair and square.
Won me.
And my body.
But…can I pay up?
Their reach is like a venom taking root inside me. At first, you don’t even realise it’s there. Slowly spreading through you, changing you, moulding you, infecting you, until it’s too late to be free. That’s how I feel, because I hated them, still do, but now it’s clouded with need.
One they forced into me, built inside me, and they know it.
I hate that.
I hate them.
Who says I can’t have some fun with it? Hate sex is like nothing else, and this desire clearly isn’t going away and I’m not getting free any time soon, so I might as well make the most of it…right?
That’s what I tell myself anyway.
“Fine,” I snarl. “Nine.” I point at the dice and he rolls again.
It comes up twelve, and he smirks. “Shirt,” he demands.
Ripping it over my head with a growl, I toss it at him. Why the hell did I agree to this game? I’m just in my panties and bra now, and he takes his time looking me over. I shiver under his possessive gaze, my nipples pebbling against the lace fabric, and my panties are no doubt soaking. Brilliant.
“Next guess, darling?” he murmurs, his eyes locked on my flushed chest as I clench my legs further together. With a groan, he reaches down and rearranges himself. “Fuck, you are way too beautiful.”
I ignore that, because honestly, what would I say? “Thirteen,” I snarl, but he’s too busy staring at me still. I can almost feel the caress from his gaze. “Kenzo.”
His eyes jerk up, locking with mine, and the dice go flying as he pounces. I yelp as he pins me to the sofa, ripping open my thighs and settling between them as he grinds against me. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“What? Kenzo?” I query in confusion, and he groans.
“Yes, like that, darling.”
“It’s literally your name, would you prefer I just call you asshole?” I snap, even as I arch up into him.
“Call me whatever you want, darling, as long as you don’t stop me and scream it for everyone to hear.” He laughs as he drops his lips to mine. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to, my words are caught in my throat as I grab his hair and yank him closer. He smirks against my mouth, so I bite down on his lip.
With a grunt, he wrenches away, panting hard as he glares at me. “Act like a brat, and you will get treated like one.”
“Whatever, get the fuck off me,” I demand. It’s hard to act tough in your undies, but I think I pull it off.
He smirks again, those dark eyes locked on mine, making me weak. “Why? You like me where I am.”
“No, I don’t,” I protest half-heartedly, my voice wavering.
He laughs, actually laughs, his whole body shaking. “Sure, so then why are your nipples hard and begging for my mouth?” he murmurs, as he rips down my bra and bares me to the room. Eyes on me, he seals his lips around one and sucks, making me moan as my eyes close and I arch up into his mouth.
Anger at my reaction flares through me, and I try to pull his head away using his hair. Laughing again, he ignores my desperate tugs and kisses down my belly, stopping at my navel piercing and circling it with his tongue before he carries on to my panties, his eyes meeting mine. “I can smell how wet you are.” With his teeth, he yanks down my panties and tosses them away.
I try to close my thighs, but he shoves them open and slams them down to the sofa, exposing me to him. He groans lowly, the sound doing bad things to me as he stares at me. “You’re fucking soaked. Thought you didn’t want me?”
“I don’t,” I snarl, even as I tilt my hips, needing to be touched.