Page 7 of Unbound By You (The Viper’s MC #1)

HARLOW

I fell for it. I let him twist my mind with the promise of a yearned-for experience of ecstasy by his hand. I should have known better, but I gave into my baser instincts, and now I’m fucked. I’m stuck to his bed, with no chance of getting loose unless I want to dislocate a thumb.

He looms over me, raking his hungry gaze across every exposed inch of my skin. It only makes me burn hotter for him. It’s a fascinating feeling: wanting to fuck and fight someone at the same time.

His calloused fingers graze up my legs as he kneels between my thighs on the edge of the mattress.

“Fuck, look at you, wildcat. How does it feel?” He pauses, his fingers drifting closer to my pussy. “Knowing you fucked up tonight.”

I huff at him. Fighting against the cuffs that are starting to warm from the temperature of my skin. I wish I could close my legs. Cut off the view he’s taking every liberty to enjoy.

“You know what this means, right?”

I still don’t answer him, biting my tongue to hold back my curses. It’s my best bet, not to mention that I can see the irritation rising when I ignore him.

His muscles tense, and his nostrils flare. Those fingers he delicately ran across my skin a few minutes ago tighten against my thighs in a crushing grip.

“That’s fine, baby. Fight me all you want, but by morning, you’ll understand.”

That’s the last thing out of his mouth before he shifts, and his face drops, burying in my pussy. His tongue attacks my clit. The already sensitive nub sends a shocking wave of painful pleasure through my limbs.

He devours me like a man starved. The familiar sensation builds in my core. It’s too much without more pressure inside me. My legs start to shake as my body loses any ability to fight the crushing orgasm.

I want to scream out for more, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself, and soon, the sharp tang of blood coats my tongue.

The pull in my core tightens like a rubber band, ready to snap, but he jerks away just as I hit the tension point. The fire retreats slowly. It’s painful—a sudden disconnection of my nerve endings.

My lungs fight to pull in enough air to settle my system. I can handle this. I’d rather him edge me to death than let him see what it looks like to have me fall apart in his hands. Because once he knows, shit, once I know, we’re fucking screwed.

“Tell me, wildcat, what made you think you could get away with it?”

Because I always do.

I shrug awkwardly, raising my eyebrow at him.

He shakes his head, a vicious half grin set on his weather-worn face before he lets a small huff of laughter leave his chest.

“As much as I love seeing the defiance dance in your eyes, I think it’s best if you don’t see what’s coming next.”

His fingers disappear behind him, and a black bandana hangs from them when they come back into view. He leans over me, covering my eyes with the fabric that smells like him and the sickly-sweet copper of blood.

I feel the urge to gag at the realization, but I refuse the instinct.

His weight pulls away, and then it’s gone from the mattress altogether. I hold my breath, listening intently to figure out what he might be doing.

The sounds of a drawer opening and the rustling of things knocking into each other come next.

I give in and gulp down a much-needed lungful of air as the room falls quiet again.

Thank God I still have my hearing. I’m surprised he hasn’t relieved me of that sense, too.

But then again, if he did, I wouldn’t be able to hear his incessant need to dictate everything.

Something small and cold drags up my form, and I flinch from the unexpected feeling. It stops at my nipple, and my mind whirls with possibilities of what’s to come next. I let out a strangled whine when it clamps onto my sensitive bud.

Fucking, motherfucker.

The hard pinch steadies as he lets go of the first nipple clamp and moves to my other breast. I try to move out of his reach but can only manage a little rock back and forth. I grunt at him when the second one clamps down, and the pressure sends a new wave of wetness from my core.

He’s not done. The cord between the two pulls taut. The pain melds against the pleasure wracking my body, and I’m not the least bit surprised it's desperate for more.

“Hmm, I should have known you’d like that. Looks like I’ll be bringing out all the toys tonight.”

Fuck him and his raspy voice that drips with rough sex appeal. God only knows what he’s got in his drawer of naughty fun.

“Bring it on, asshole. I’ve got all night,” I taunt, clinging to my last ounce of bravado by sheer will and praying it doesn’t falter.

I hear it the moment those words leave my lips. The intense vibration of something he just switched on. Is it a vibrator, a plug, or maybe a much-beloved wand? My body lights up at the possibilities.

“Open up.” He taps the vibrating device against my lips.

I open my mouth slowly as he pushes the long, smooth toy across my tongue. A vibrator, then.

“Suck,” he demands, and like the good girl, I most certainly am not, I still fucking listen.

He’s got my head all fucked up trying to get out of this situation unscathed.

When my lips close around the toy, vibrating my skull to death, I work my tongue around it, coating the silicone with what little lube I assume he’s going to allow me.

Though I doubt there’ll be any issue there, considering I can feel my own arousal coating the outside of my pussy and beginning to drip toward the sheets.

He rips it past my lips, dragging it down my body, and over my pinched nipples. He takes the opportunity to pull the strand connecting them again, and my pussy contracts, aching for something to fill it.

The whimper escapes without permission, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

“You can make this stop anytime. Just answer my questions, and I’ll let you go,” he says calmly, but I know better. He’s nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The vibrator drives south, stopping on my mound. He’s waiting for an answer, but I don’t have one to give. I can’t tell him what he wants to know because it’s deeper than he thinks. If he ever found out?—

“Fuck!” I scream when the toy rests against my clit. It’s not a soft, dull setting. He picked the violent pulse, refusing my sensitive nerves peace as the attack continues for what feels like hours.

My hips gyrate against the mattress the best they can, trying to break free or seek more; I can’t tell anymore. My whimpers become pants and moans that call out into the empty house.

An inferno builds in my core, ready to explode throughout my entire body and finally dull the all-encompassing need that’s greedy for me to come.

“Don’t stop, Silas. Please, I’m going to come.”

He waits a second longer before pulling away. “No, you’re not.”

A coldness washes over my burning body. Not in a refreshing way. In a way that blazes fiercer than the pleasure he stole from me.

“I’m going to fucking kill you. Let me go right now.”

“Tell me why my men were there to clean up your little mess.”

“Coincidence?” I sass back.

“Pierce calling you babe?”

“Old habits die hard.” I laugh maniacally. My body’s overstimulated to the point of delusion, and my skin crawls with spurts of electric pulses.

His rough hand wraps around my throat, tightening with every gasp I manage to steal.

“Wrong answer.” He seethes before shoving the toy against my entrance and thrusting it inside me without care. The tip hits my cervix, and that tight sting of pain grips me, robbing the air from my lungs.

He doesn’t let up. The curved shape rubs unforgivingly against my front wall, building the all too familiar sensation that comes right before I do.

And I’m scared if he doesn’t let me come this time, I’ll combust into a thousand little pieces that’ll never fit back together again.

My pussy grips the toy, ready to send me headfirst over the cliff of no return, but he must feel the resistance because he slows, drawing it out leisurely until he stops altogether and pulls it free.

I want to scream, maybe cry, and definitely rage, but I refuse to let a man break me using my cunt as his weapon of choice.