Page 97 of Breaker

His brows pinch together as he sucks in air, jerking off faster. My grip on the belt tightens as I bring the wetness to my cock and stroke hard, fast, my forehead against the wall above his shoulder, my eyes pinned to the long column of his neck. Our hands bump with each stroke. Every inhale drags his clean scent into my lungs. Every exhale feels like I’m releasing my demons onto him. They fan the side of his face and his shoulder with each hot breath. Touch his lips when he turns his face to me.

“Harder,” I grate, barely hanging on. “Fuck your hand.”

His raspy groan as he does as commanded sends firecrackers to the base of my spine, erupting into a liquid heat that shoots out, hitting his hip. I rasp out a moan as I come, my legs giving slightly, hips jerking as I fuck my hand harder, faster, riding it out, my head dropping to his shoulder.

“Oh,fuck,“ he groans, and warm cum hits my arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rasps, rocking into me, the tip of his hot dick slipping over the back of my hand.

I open my eyes, watching his features contort and then smooth out. How he bites his lip as he pumps himself, eyes opening and locking on my mouth like he’s imagining my lips wrapped around him. How sexy he is as he rides it out. The urge to suck his lip into my mouth, taste the needy groans leaving him, makes me shift closer.

Viper slumps, breaths heavy, slick sweat on his chest slipping over mine.

He averts his gaze.

I release the belt, sliding it free.

The hand that was gripping my shoulder withdraws, and he uses it to swipe at the copper tendrils of hair that fell over his forehead.

I slink back, tucking myself away. He turns his back to me as he zips his pants. He glances down as he does, hand sicky with my cum. I glance at my forearm, the blueish lights making his cum glisten.

My heart skips, leaps as he faces me, but then it careens to the floor, crashing at my feet when he refuses to meet my eyes.

“Don’t ever tell anyone what just happened,” he says, then stalks across the room, grabs the bottle of vodka, and slams back a drink.

My foot slides back, then the other. I swallow, but it feels like shards of glass in my mouth as I doGod, it’s fucking painful, so I grind my teeth to stop myself from trying to wash away this tight feeling in my throat. I shut the bathroom door behind me, collapsing against the dirty white door, hand unfurling weakly from the knob. My knees finally give. I slide to the floor, my eyes unfocused on the grimy black and white tiled floor.

An ache writhes in my chest, growing, pulsing, becoming a dark void that devours my every breath, cuts like sharp claws into my heart.

It’s no wonder my heart hurts. Viper just took an icepick to it and hacked at my most vulnerable parts with ruthless precision.

Chapter 31

Striker

“Did you get thetext?” Viper asks, following me up the stairs.

“Don’t have my phone with me.” I stalk down the hallway once we reach the top floor, pulling my shirt away from my chest. It sticks to me like a second layer of skin, dried sweat and salty morning mist dampening the fabric. “What did Breaker do now?”

“Doing what Breaker does best,” Viper says, boots thudding behind me. “Breaking rules and fucking shit up.”

When I reach my room, I peel off my shirt and toss it on the floor, my skin pricking with unease.

Viper comes in behind me and closes the door, ripping his mask off and running a hand through his hair as he tosses his mask on my bed.

I sigh, and continue toward the bathroom. I hate the sticky feeling of being unclean. The darkness always tries to invade and the only way to remove the shadows lingering in the back of my mind is to scrub my skin.

I finished the morning run with Princess, then attempted another practice session. When she missed one shot after another, I suggested we take a break. My patience today is stretched thin, and I know it’s contributing to this gnawing sensation in my bones.

Reaper must have seen my expression when we crossed paths in the foyer, because he shook his head and said to give her time. Time. Asshole. He’s not given her or us any of his. The last few days, he’s once again been absent, and I can’t help but wonder which part of this entire fucked up situation has him on edge. The fact we’ve already begun training, which feels too soon, or that if Delilah been in the school, she’d have not lasted more than a few weeks before Fallon removed her.

She’s trying so hard, rarely complaining, doing everything we ask when we ask, but the woman is awful with a gun. If it weren’t so frustrating, it would be laughable. It’s possible her history is getting in the way, some sort of self-sabotage, so she doesn’t have to fire a gun. While I don’t blame her hesitation or her ability to concentrate while holding a rifle, it’s going to eventually work against her.

Even though she’s doing well with Viper, at times surprising us with what looks like a natural ease holding a knife, we need her ready and capable for what’s coming. And a gun is the fastest way for her to accomplish her mission.

“—no thinking. This is too soon. Delilah isn’t ready,” Viper’s saying, still behind me like a shadow as I walk to the bathroom. “What the fuck is he thinking?”

In the doorway, I turn to face him, and his chest hits mine, his forehead hitting my cheek. I wince, my hands landing on his shoulders. “Fuck, Vipe.”

Three days this man has been up my ass. It’s no wonder Breaker wanted to strangle him half the time and they ended upfighting constantly. Without him here, Viper’s full attention is on me and I’m ready to toss him down the stairs.

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