Page 32 of Heirs of Havoc

All four men glare at me, my skin getting hotter by the second.

Dom’s eyes feel the sharpest sitting at one head of the long mahogany table. Shifting in my seat at the other end, I hold my gaze, bouncing between them all. While it feels like old times, the chain around my neck and the gag in my mouth reminds me it’s not.

“Look at us. Together again.” Dom rises from his seat, reaching for the large bowl of pasta in the middle. Moving to his men, he keeps his eyes on me as he plops swirls of sauce-laidened noodles onto their big white plates. When he gets behind me, my body stiffens, his powerful stature standing over my smaller frame. “Fresh pasta. What a delightful treat from our good girl.”

Splat!

His serving for me differs from the others, enough for a fucking bird. My eyes tilt up to his and he gives a firm nod, like I’m thanking him. “So happy you could join us, Mia Mouse.”

Feliks clears his throat, leaning back in his seat. When my eyes move to his, his golden gaze lands on my plate. “So how is she gonna eat?”

Dom’s head whips to Feliks. They stare at each other for a moment, Feliks not backing down before Dom snaps his finger. “Un-muzzle the bitch.”

“Me?” Feliks flicks a finger to his chest.

“You mentioned it.” Dom kicks his chair out before settling in. He serves himself a tall heaping of pasta and I’m happy this gag hides my smile. Feliks mumbles as he rises but Dom keeps his eyes on me the entire time Feliks moves to my seat. His fingers graze the skin on my neck as he unleashes me from the gag. Drool leaves my mouth as he drops it to the floor. “Say one thing,” Dom threatens. “I dare you.” As hungry as I am, I’m not foolish enough to fall for it.

“Eat up, Bunny,” Feliks mutters, moving back to his seat.

Fork in my hand, I twirl the fresh noodles around it but I don’t dare bring it to my mouth. I’m willing to sacrifice my hunger to see these fuckers squirm. Dom narrows his eyes, leaning back in his seat, but Lev and Vlad dig in. So does Feliks.

“Damn, Merlo." Lev pushes a giant forkful in his mouth. "We should've known your Italian roots would come in handy." His chewing slows. "Oh, fuck…” He's the first to notice something’s off, reaching for his glass of water. He tugs at the collar of his red sweater, revealing a glimmer of his tattooed pecs. “Shit, this is… this has some kick.”

Feliks lets out a cough, lunging for the bottle of vodka in the middle of the table while Vlad's fork lowers. He looks at his twin brother who fans at his tongue, his face reddening. When I glance at Dom to see if he's noticed, his fork stays on the table, those diamond eyes adding heat to my skull.

A smirk flashes on his face.

My stomach flutters.

Slam!

Vlad stands to his feet, his fist pounding into the table before his eyes dart to me. His face changes to a shade of deep red and it makes me bite my tongue so hard I’m awaiting the taste of copper.

Don't laugh. Don't laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Vlad growls, and that tells me I didn’t try hard enough. Glancing at Dom, his head tilts to the side, studying me. “Answer me!” Vlad’s voice raises, but with the way Dom stares at me, I’m not sure if I should.

Vlad’s boots storm toward me and before I can get a word out, his fingers wrap around my arm, hoisting me to my feet. “Let me go!”

“Vlad,” Lev protests, but Dom snaps at him as I’m hurdled towards the kitchen.

My back slams against the white-tiled wall, Vlad’s hand against my chest. He leans back, reaching for the bottle on the island. Another classic croons through the speakers, offsetting the anger steaming off him as a mocking smile creeps across my face. With his thumb, he unscrews the bottle. Then he pushes it right into my mouth.

My eyes widen as he shoves it further and all it takes is one squeeze. One squeeze and a barrel of hot sauce flies down my throat and hell, Vlad’s angry enough to empty it all.

“Still funny now, Merlo?” His knee comes between mine as he forces my legs open. With the bottle in my mouth, he rips open the rest of my blouse, buttons clattering to the floor. He tugs at my bra, pulling it above my tits. A cold washes over my puckering nipples but the heat coming off him warms me. “Since you like fucking games, let’s play one.”

My hand comes to his chest before he whips me around and my back lands against the cold concrete of the island. Something clamps on my nipple, a shot of sparks running through me as my eyes widen. I’m so thrown off by his rage it takes a second to notice it's the clip from the chips. Never thought to use it this way but it’s clear Vlad can be creative when he wants to be.

His hand comes to my throat, his knee pressing against me in just the right place that my hips pivot into him. Vlad's more aggressive than his brother, more violent, and my body’s on fire just like his tongue. My lips tighten around the bottle, my tongue ring pushing against it. When my thighs close around his knee, he chuckles.

“Get a hold of yourself, Mia," he growls as he grinds his knee into my core. “If you fuck up, whatever you left inside that bottle will hit that slutty throat like the way you take Dom’s dick. So keep fucking around.”

Vlad’s trying to make me lose it and he’s doing a damn good job. Especially when he replaces his knee with his fingers. A spark shoots through me, my head falling back. His grip tightens around my throat, my pulse against his thumb. My heartbeat quickens when he pulls my panties to the side and his finger glides through my slit. He swirls them over my clit, sparkles dancing on my abs. I'm grateful the bottle stifles my moans because he shouldn't be making me feel this good. Not like this. Not here.

"What's wrong, Mia?" Vlad chides, his fingers moving faster. My legs fall open for him, this feeling a contrast to the cold cell floor. "Can't handle the heat?" My stomach tightens, muscles spasming as Vlad plays me like I played him.

Don’t give in. Don’t give in.

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