Page 55 of The Vipers and Their Vendetta

Thankfully, the halls are quiet, and I don’t bump into anyone else. No one questions me about where I’m going.

I reach Zane’s room, lift my fist to knock on the door, and then hesitate. Out of the three of them, Zane is the one who’s a dark horse. I think I’m starting to get a read on the twins, and as dark and depraved as they are, and they areextremelydark and depraved, at least I can kind of guess where their reactions are going to go at any given time.

Zane is an entirely different matter.

I think back to that time in the field, the one time when I truly did feel that something had happened to me almost without my consent. What Zane did to me then was such a head fuck that I’ve thought about it many times since.

Still, it’s the danger of him I like the most.

I bite my lip and summon my courage before I knock on the door three times. There’s no answer, so I knock again. Louder this time.

“Shut the fuck up,” someone shouts from a few doors down.

Shit, if he doesn’t answer soon, I’ll have to leave. I can’t get reported to the dean, because he really will send me packing if I get into any more trouble. I stare at the wooden door as if I can will it to disappear and sigh in frustration. Fine, I’ll just have to go back to bed and endure a sleepless night.

As I turn, the door mechanism clicks. The door swings open, and Zane appears in the gap, scowling out into the hallway. His eyes widen at the sight of me standing there.

I know that he won’t let me in if I tell him why I’m here, not initially. So, I do what they keep doing to me, and what they keep accusing me of doing.

I lie.

“I need your help,” I say. “I think I’m in trouble.”

His brow furrows, but he steps back and lets me into the room. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low slung, soft, gray shorts. They’re made of sweatpant material, and they cling lovingly to what he’s packing. I find myself staring at it and licking my lips without even thinking. As my gaze drags up his hugely muscular body, covered in amazing ink, it meets his, and he narrows his eyes.

He grabs a notebook and a small pen and writes quickly.

As he’s writing, I take a seat on a comfortable occasional chair in the corner. I figure it’ll be harder for him to throw me out if I’m sitting.

He shoves the paper under my nose and taps it so I read what he’s written.

What do you need help with? How are you in trouble?

I glance up at him, peeking from under my lashes.

“Phew, it’s warm in here.” I ignore his questions and flap my hand across my face.

He angles his head, one eyebrow pulling down in confusion about what I’m doing. It’s really not that warm. My palms are damp with nerves.

I reach to the bottom of my oversized sweater and drag it up and over my head. My long hair catches for a moment, but then falls around my face and shoulders as I drop the sweater to the floor beside me. I toe off my sneakers and let them drop too.

Now Zane’s eyebrows are lifted, his eyes wide. His gaze rakes down my body and the ‘leave nothing to the imagination’ skintight dress I’m barely wearing. My tits have almost fallen out of the top, and my nipples are hard beneath the fabric.

His focus locks on them, and a slow swallow rolls down his thick throat.

I bite my lower lip and try to act coy. “Oops, think I forgot to put on a bra before I left my room. I wonder if I forgot my panties, too.”

I slowly part my legs and lift my dress higher up my thighs. I’ve never done anything like this in my life, and my heart is pounding so fast I’m sure he can see my pulse beating in my throat.

He stares at my hands as they move the material higher, higher, ever higher until I’m fully exposed to him.

The red imprints are still on my skin from where the rope dug into me, and it’s as though they’ve created tattoos, even though they’ll fade eventually. I’m a little disappointed that they will. I shouldn’t want to see them. I have to remind myself what these assholes have done—how they won’t believe me, even when I’mtelling them the truth, and now they’re leaving sick messages everywhere for me to find. It doesn’t stop them being hot as hell, though, and I remember why I’m here. If they’re going to treat me like a fuck toy, then I’ll do whatever it takes to tear the three of them apart.

With one hand, I reach between my legs and part myself. I’m so wet, and so swollen after having both my poor abused ass and pussy fucked over and over by three men all evening, that I know he’ll be turned on.

A quick glimpse of the front of his sweat shorts confirms that my attempts are working. Fuck, he’s tenting the material to a point that it would almost be comical if I didn’t know what a huge, fucking pierced monster he has under there.

“I need help,” I say all breathy, my cheeks and chest warm with arousal. “It hurts. Can’t you make it feel better? The other two don’t have to know. It’ll be our little secret.”

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