Page 50 of The Vipers and Their Venom

Instead, I’d headed straight to my destroyed room. I didn’t appreciate the worry committee waiting for me, despite knowing it’s only because they care.

Thank God the twins have gone without an argument because I’m achingly hard. I pace the room, breathing like a bull. My fists clench and unclench as I try to ride the storm of adrenaline from the news in the letter, but also from taking Venom that way. My hand over her mouth, her wide eyes on me, my finger in her ass, her pussy clamping around me. I’d felt like a god.

It was so hard not to fuck her, but I won’t do that without Lex and Saint there, at least not the first time. The three of us seem to have claimed Vani somehow, even though we’ve not put it into so many words. For how long depends on how long she keeps us interested before we get bored.

I bet she thinks I’m a hero now for coming to her defense the way I had in the cafeteria.

How wrong can a girl be? I didn’t step in to help her. I stepped in because, firstly, the douche was wrong. She’s not fat; she’s hot. I can’t stand it when people are stupid. Secondly, she’s nothisto torment. She’sours. If anyone makes her cry, it will be the Vipers, not some preppy asshole.

Still ragingly hard, I decide to take care of business.

I don’t go to the bathroom. Instead, I stand in the middle of my room, unzip, and pull my massive, hard cock out of my jeans.

It’s a monster, and I bet Venom has been dreaming about it. I know most women love my size—it’s the thickness they say gets them off so well, and the piercing also helps. Will Vani be tight? I bet she is. I can’t imagine her having had a lot of guys. Maybe she’s only been with the one, the dude she talked about, her dad’s friend, did she say?

Jealousy burns in me, and I imagine me being her first. Me being the one to tear into her for the first time, and make her cry as the pain hits, but then sob as I give her pleasure. I would, too. I’d make her come so fucking hard she’d fucking choke my cock with her inner muscles as she lost control.

As my fantasy grows in depth, I can see her and taste her. All soft sighs and gentle curves and pretty tears. I increase my speed, gripping myself harder. With my other hand, I flick the piercing, increasing the intense sensation collecting in my balls. I open my mouth in a wide, silent shout. Thick spurts of creamy cum spray over the carpet. I’m gonna have to get one of the staff to clean that up, I think with a smirk.

I sag, my back bowed as my legs shake with the intensity of my release.

Fuck, I wish I’d come on her, but leaving her messed up and confused the way I did is even more delicious.

Putting myself away, I walk to the fridge and grab a water, slugging it down as I think about the past few days. Jesus, that woman has me in a chokehold, and I don’t like it. At some point, we might have to bring her down a peg or two. Show her who is in charge here because sometimes I get the craziest feeling it’s not us Vipers, or at least not to the degree it should be.

I can’t be stuck in this room, but I can’t do nothing either. I need to exercise and go for a run. If I don’t run, I will go and hunt her down again and fuck her. Or I’ll end up in a fight, and I’m on my last warning so far as that shit goes. Instead, I pull my sneakers on and head outside.

29

VANI

I’m still shaking when I reach the room my sister is staying in. I should postpone this because I’m already a mess from the encounter with Zane and I’m not sure I can take much more, but my curiosity can’t wait any longer.

My pulse patters, and my breath is short. Despite my earlier orgasm, I’m a knot of tension all over again. In my head, I run over all the things I’ll say to Reagan. I’ll tell her that, deep down, I always knew I had a sister, how somehow I missed her without ever knowing of her existence. I’ll tell her that it broke our mom’s heart to have to give her up.

I stop in front of her door.

The door is plain. Nothing embellished on it. The disappointment that hits surprises me. What kind of college girl has a plain door? No name. No star, or sparkly sticker, or band sticker. Nothing. Not one damn thing. If I thought this was going to be the way I could find out clues about her, I’m sorely disappointed.

Heart absolutely galloping, I knock.

I hadn’t planned on doing that. I’d meant to bide my time, but now I’m here, I couldn’t seem to hold myself back. I want tofinally meet her, to see what she looks like, and pray she’s happy to find out I exist.

So nervous that I’m slightly nauseated, I wait. Is there any sense of her behind the wood?

But no answer comes. That’s hardly surprising. She’s most likely in class. Or maybe she’s with friends? What if she’s super popular and polished and perfect like the other girls here? Would she even want to speak to me? I might embarrass her.

On a whim, I take hold of the handle and press down. I’m just getting a feel for the lock and how stiff it is. Not that I’d pick her lock, but it’s almost instinctive for me when I come up against a locked door.

Except, with a click, the handle gives.

Shit, it’s not locked.

I let go immediately and step back. This is a huge violation of her privacy. I can’t do this. Then the sugar rush that is the desperate need to know about her wins over. I glance up and down the deserted corridor then push the handle down again.

The door creaks as it opens, as if it isn’t used often.

I step inside and stare in shock.

---