Page 62 of Viper

“Shh,” he whispers, but it’s just a shaky breath. “Come for me, Delilah.”

The second the command rumbles from him, I fall over without a sound. Teeth clenched, my head falling forward, my eyes fall closed as it washes over me. It’s a delicate release, almost as fragile as my name sounded leaving his lips.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, fingers slowing, and he grips my chin, forcing my eyes on him. “I love watching you break.”

Onyx gaze locked on mine, he pulls his hand free and brings it to his face, my release coating his fingers. Hooking the bottom of his mask with his thumb, he raises it just enough to expose his mouth. Those full lips and two scars come intoview, and he twists his wrist, slipping his fingers into his mouth, sliding his tongue between them to lick them clean.

When he’s done, he leans in, and my heart jackhammers. It nearly explodes as his tongue traces my bottom lip and slips inside. It’s not so much a kiss as a flickering of his hot tongue over mine, like he’s letting me sample how I taste. Sweet and tart, mixed with faint spicy darkness. My grip on his cock tightens, and he hisses into my mouth, his hand enclosing over mine, and backs away.

“Don’t tempt me, Delilah,” he grates. “I’ll take you right here on this table.”

My pussy clenches as my eyes dart to the soldiers outside the door.

Reaper clears his throat, and the chair screams across the tile floor as he stands, adjusting himself. “You can finish this in your room,” he says. He snaps his fingers, and the two men turn our way. “Escort her to her room. I’m done with her for now.”

Chapter 21

Viper

5 years Ago, July, Age 27

Threedays.That’showlong Rune has had him. Three days is too long to be alone with your enemy. An enemy known for his viciousness and cruelty. Hunter is strong, but I’m not sure he’s strong enough to endure what Rune is capable of.

Someone fucking betrayed us.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I rub my temple, pressing my eyes closed as I take a deep breath to calm the chaos in my head. The dripping faucet in the bathroom is making it impossible to relax. I fucking hate that sound. It carries me back to that room, and that fucking clearing,and my thoughts are already too dark and full of nightmares for me to venture there.

“Will you fucking shut that off?” I snap, pointing to the closed bathroom door. My head feels like someone is splitting it in half, and my vision keeps blurring, like a migraine is going to set in. “I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Breaker drops the remote and looks over at me from his spot on the bed. “Shut what off? The TV?”

I gesture to the bathroom, and his brows knit. He came in here about thirty minutes ago when I didn’t answer his text, and made himself at home in my hotel room, flicking through the movie channels and ordering us lunch. I didn’t touch it. Eating is impossible. I’m on edge, my nerves a bundle of frayed wires.

I can’t imagine how Reaper must feel. He’s with Striker now, who’s still in the ICU at the regional hospital a few miles away, so that at least keeps him busy.

After we landed in the heli, Fallon had him taken there for surgery. On the chopper, we packed his wound and got him stable enough to take the flight. The dumbass is lucky. Unlucky that the bullet even hit him at such a fucked angle. Lucky he didn’t bleed out, and the bullet didn’t shatter bone when it lodged itself in his body.

Breaker’s injury was clean. Mine too. We both got stitched up, a doctor handed us antibiotics, and Fallon sent us away.

Here, at this hotel on the edge of town, to wait.

Drip, drip, drip.

“Fuck, man. If you’re going to be in here, taking up space, and being all around annoying, then at least have the courtesy to shut the valve all the way,” I yell at Breaker, bolting up from the chair I’ve been sitting in for the last hour and march toward the bathroom. “It’s a five-star hotel. You’d think they’d have good plumbing.”

I shove the bathroom door open and head for the sinks, but stop when I near them. My eyes scan the counter and the double basins, then to the large tub behind me, then over to the walk-in shower, looking for the source, but every faucet is dry.

Fuck.

I rub my temple again; the pain moving from the sides of my head to behind my eyes.

“Are you okay?” Breaker says from behind me.

I catch his eye in the mirror, but say nothing.

“It’s the stress, I’m sure—”