“I can’t feel a thing,” she denies on a groan, her voice breathless and needy.
I push into her further, my hips hitting her soft flesh with each thrust. Then my cock is driving into her. Thrust. “Can.” Thrust. “You.” Thrust. “Feel.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust. “Now?”
Her head softly thuds against the wall with each impact, her pussy tightening with my words, and her breathless whimpers setting me on fire.
“No,” she barely gets out before screaming and squeezing my dick like it’s her only lifeline. I feel her release coating me, making me slicker inside her.
I thrust several more times before shaking with my own orgasm.
“Fuck,” I groan, pumping into her until I’m limp. I pull out and realize my mistake immediately. I’ve never fucked raw before, never bare, never willing to risk anything. I’m not sure what came over me, and I’m fucking worried for the repercussions.
Turning to my desk for a cloth or rag, I dig around. When I find a microfiber cloth, I head back to her. That’s when I notice a tattoo on her hip, one that pretty much fucks me worse than what I did to her moments ago.
I’d spot that tat anywhere. I’d spot that claim on anyone.
How did I miss it?
Dropping the rag right on the dirty ground where this bitch belongs, I rush her. My palm connects with her throat, my tatted hands a stark difference to her tanned, seamlessly unblemished skin.
“Who the fuck are you?” The words are venom, as dangerous and as deadly as the name I’m branded with.
My cum leaks from her pussy, dripping down her perfect thighs toward the floor of my office, but my mind goes to that tat on her hip. She’s labeled as one of them.
“Fuck you,” she snaps.
“Been there, done that. Now, who the fuck are you? Don’t make me gut you right here,” I threaten, putting more pressure on her windpipe.
“H-Helen,” she chokes out venomously, her answer a slap. Most likely, she wants to physically slap me too.
“You’re a part of Los Desolados?” I spit, my body unwilling to accept yet another fuck up on my part.
Her face is free of emotion.
I close the distance, making our noses touch. “Fucking tell me!”
“Y-yes,” she stutters, her face turning a pretty oxygen-less color.
“How?”
“Villarreal,” she whispers, her words touching my lips, brushing them with anger.
Villarreal, that’s part of the family. Like Díaz and Soltero, it’s a family name tied to them.
Loosening the hold on her throat, I allow her to breathe air into her lungs. The thrumming of her life taps my thumb melodically. She swallows, and I feel that too. This is the longest a woman has been in my presence after I’ve gotten what I came for. Hate to say it but she intrigues me.
She’s not one of us.
She’s part of their fucked-up family.
She’s also the answer to all my questions.
I cup her pussy, my hand a mess with our mixed cum. I’d never fucked a woman without a condom, but she pissed me off by claiming I couldn’t make her come. She did, and I fucking took it from her.
Her heartbeat titters against my skin, but she doesn’t moan as I pinch her clit. She stands her ground, giving me a stare that should make my dick shrivel up and die but of course doesn’t.
“You think you’re something special since I had my cock buried deep inside you? You think that’ll make me spare your dirty blood?”
She glares at me. I’ve never seen such a viperous woman, but I might’ve met my match, if not my equal.
“Hate to break it to you, Hel, but lots of women have had my cock.”
“Guess they know what a shit lay you are then,” she snaps, her lioness hair making her appear fiercer.
Instead of arguing, I haul her up, our mixed release coating where I grip her hip. I carry her back to the wall, forcing her to turn, her tits against the cool surface. She gripes, wiggling to get away from me.
“A shit lay, huh?” I growl into her spine, dragging my teeth down, slowly lowering myself to my knees. No woman has ever had the pleasure of me beneath them, and I’ll be damn certain no one ever will again.
“The worst fuck I’ve ever had,” she retorts.
With a resounding smack, I hit her ass hard. She squeals, flexing her ass in preparation for another. I press my palm into her lower back, forcing her hips to widen. She momentarily relaxes, almost like she believes I’m done.
Far fucking from it.
Bringing my nose to her perky little ass, I skate it up and down, feeling her soft skin glide against me.
“W-what’re you doing?” she asks breathlessly. She’s never faltered that stony wall, but right now, with my face against her ass, she’s showing weakness.
It’s my opportunity to take advantage.
“Taking what’s owed,” I snarl, right before shoving her cheeks apart and sticking my tongue between them.
She squirms, making my tongue swirl more.
“Oh, no, no, no, no,” she practically sings.
My tongue penetrates her ring of muscle, while my other hand sneaks around and pierces her cunt simultaneously.
I pull my head back, taking a bite from her plump ass and then dive back in. My fingers pump into her, curving upward, making her scream.
When I pull my tongue away again, I smirk. “Seems like you're a bitch and a liar.”
My palm collides with her ass again, harder this time. The handprint is red and angry, just like my mean, little monster.
“Fuck you,” she bites, pushing her ass into me.
“Isn’t that what I’m doing? Tongue fucking your ass, claiming your body as my own plaything?”
“N-no,” she whimpers, her cunt squeezing me with her lies.
“Your pussy tells another story, Villarreal,” I hiss.
I trail my tongue down her crease, to her pussy. I taste myself there, mixed with her cum, and I lick languidly as she cries.
“Fuck!” she screams.
I feel her legs shake above me, quaking with each stroke of my tongue. By the time she’s done, I’m stiff again. My dick might be numb going in her, but I’ll fuck her until she answers me. I’ll fuck her until she breaks beneath my touch.
“Tell me,” I growl, standing up. My dick is still reeling from my last orgasm, making me feel nothing when it touches her on the way up. “Who sent you?”
It’s a demand, and she knows it.
Her body stills. Like that’ll change my question. Like her pussy could distract me that much.
No one’s that good.
“I said…” Grinding against her ass, I prepare to fuck her in every hole if I have to. “…tell me who sent you.” I bite her shoulder, my teeth digging into the muscle around the bone.
“Fuck!” she hisses. “No one!”
I smack the inside of her thighs, showing her that I want her to widen her stance for me. If she meant to fight, it’s not coming across that way. She scoots her feet apart, and I can’t get over how sexy her body is, how perfect it is in every way. No one woman should have every desirable attribute, but Hel does.
My hand trails up her crease, teasing, torturing, waiting for her to bite back. It’s a thrill to me, a game that I plan to win. And just like expected, she wiggles her ass into my palm.
“No one sent me, prick.”
In response, I smack her left cheek twice, watching as her spine curls into me. “No one?” I question, rubbing the sting of my slap away.
God, what I’d do to drive into her, but I want to wait, want the feeling in my dick to come back, want to feel every single thrust and memorize them since she’ll be gone.
“N-no one,” she replies breathily, getting off on my slow movements on her ass.
“Why don’t I believe you?” I grunt, rubbing our shared release over her asshole. I massage while she pants above me, her whimpers making me crazy.
“Because you’re a Viper. Uno no puede confi
ar en víboras,” she grumbles, her accent thick, husky, and filled with hatred. With those words, it’s like she’s sinking into my neck, spewing venom, hoping it goes into my veins… hoping it kills me.
“I know you’re saying something fucked up, little monster, but it’s fucking sexy coming off your tongue.” My voice attacks back with my response but it’s my cock that’s going to punish her.
I stick my thumb inside the tight hold, feeling it tighten against me.
“It’ll hurt more if you don’t relax,” I explain.
“¡Vete a la mierda!” she shouts.
Without warning, I stick two more fingers in her, giving her a reason to scream. I might not speak Spanish, but I fucking know that saying.
“Guess what, Hel? I am fucking you. I’m taking your tight little ass and making you squirm against me…” I lean forward, biting her neck and then sucking it, marking her with whatever I can. “… and I’m not stopping any time soon, so take it like a good little girl.”
After I’m sure it’ll still hurt but won’t make her faint, I remove my fingers and replace it with my cock, loving how she envelopes me. She’s warm and tight, and I’m sure no one has taken her ass before.
She moans, and I thrust forward. Grabbing her arms that hold her face away from the wall, I move them wide, forcing her cheek to be flush with it. Her hands flatten, and I grip them while I impale her, pumping in earnest. She pushes back into me, and I know it’s because she refuses to lose this battle with me, refuses to give into me.
“Now that your ass is filled with me, little monster, you will tell me who sent you.”
“Go fuck yourself, Viper.”
“What would be the fun in that, hmm? I’ve got more tight holes to explore. My hand can do the job, but your body does a better one.”
“You’re fucking relentless,” she growls, wiggling more.
Leaning forward, I take her shoulder again, feeling her skin break out in goosebumps. I lick from shoulder to shoulder, my release swiftly approaching.
“I’m not ready to stop,” I say softly, not realizing I spoke out loud until she replies.
“Then don’t.”
She begins to move in tandem with me, making me take her harder and faster, and I’m losing control. I let her arms drop, gripping her hips instead. She’ll be imprinted with me, inside her ass, her cunt, my fingers against her hips, and everywhere else I’ll touch tonight.
She’ll know she’s mine, and she’ll never want anyone but her poison—her Absinthe.
“Fuck!” I bellow, releasing harder than before, long spurts filling her, spilling out as I continue to thrust.
She has me too.
Fucking little monster captured me with her demon eyes as soon as they made contact with mine.
Chapter Three
She escaped sometime while I slept. Not sure how since I cuffed her to the futon in my office, all while she laid next to me. I’d hoped she’d be more forthcoming after a night full of bliss. Obviously, she won the game.
I’m trying not to be a dick today, but every little thing sets me off. Skinner’s kid brother, Bones, and Deaftone trying to get me to talk to her. It’s fucking with me, and I’ve blown up on every single person who’s crossed my path.
She really messed me up.
Now that she’s disappeared, the memory of Deaftone’s rat—the name sign he showed before I ran from my problems—drowns out my little escapade from last night. If it’s true, if she’s the rat, I can’t trust anything.
I can’t trust my own family.
The weight of blood—Viper, familial, or not—crushes me.
Without trust, there’s no foundation. No growth, no respect, and definitely no loyalty. Especially in my club. And it’s someone my pops trusted, loved, and respected. His dying wish was to have me look after her, to watch over her and Leia. Someone he practically raised and helped grow into the strong and powerful woman she is.
I need to speak to Pilar.
She’s the closest person to her.
She would know. She’d have the answers… unless, she too, is conspiring against me. That’d be even worse, the other one my father raised, paved the way for, and provided for.
As soon as Deaftone signed an upside down “X” with the sign “dance” attached, my mind shut off. It needed release, and that’s how I found myself buried deep inside of Hel.
What he signed to me is the name sign he gave Xo almost fifteen years ago.
When we were all kids, swearing to never give up on one another—to never put anything above family and the crew—we all got name signs from Deaftone, or rather, Falcon. Before becoming a Viper, he was simply Falcon Parker, my best fucking friend.
We made so many promises, just us three trying to make it, trying to survive and do our best. Back then, they were all I had.
Obviously promises mean nothing, and a blood oath is only important when it’s not between siblings. Regardless of our actual blood relation, we’re for all intents and purposes, siblings.
Siblings from three messed-up families who practically abandoned us. My pops took in Xo and Deaftone, but he was never around. He couldn’t be. We ended up finding strength in each other. By the time I turned eighteen, my pops had me prospecting, training me to do the family business.
And that’s what I’ve been doing since.
Some call me heartless.
Some call me sick in the head.
Most call me poisonous and empty.
Last night, that proved true. She filled me like no other woman has. She gave me a sense of purpose in the way she needed my body. Now she’s nowhere to be found, and that emptiness is back.
After Hel escaped last night while I was vulnerable, my thoughts went straight to who sent her here. She never answered me. No matter how many orgasms I stole from her, she didn’t cave.
The question keeps stealing my breath. Who gave her the Viper Den’s information? Who sent her to me?
There’s no circumstance where she’d randomly stumble upon a small town like Cape Hill and find my bar in the process.
If Hel still slept in my arms, I’d be grilling her, even if it’s a situation that makes me shudder. It shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first or even the tenth time I tortured a woman for information. It’s never sexual, only with her. Something about it being her, my devil-eyed siren, has me cringing. We shared something last night. Not something I’d share with any other woman. It’s flipped me inside out all day. I’m not a weak man in anyone’s eyes, but something in me revolts against hurting her again.
Even if she’s a part of this.
Even if she’s wrong for me.
Even when she’s one of them.
And then there's Xiomara.
Deaftone’s intel about her has to be wrong. It can’t be the truth. It’s not my truth. It’s not practical. It’s not the woman I know, not the one I looked after, supported, and shed blood for. I refuse to accept it.
Xiomara wouldn’t forsake the brotherhood, and she wouldn’t cross me.
Until I get more information, I’m letting sleeping dogs lie. For now, I’ll drop it. No one breaks up a family over hearsay, even if it’s reliable intel.
I’ll still investigate, but it’ll be to prove her innocence, not her guilt.
The worst and foremost important problem right now is Belén and her big trap. Who knows who she’ll tell and how it’ll impact our drives and source of income. We’re at the top of our game and only rising in ranks.
With Belén in the wind, I’ll have to fly to Puerto Rico, visit their turf, and figure out what the hell is going on.
It’s dangerous touring there and risking exposing myself for the sake of my crew. I’ve heard of Los Desolados having bloodshed and turf wars for years against Los Perturbados and the corrupt police department. But I want answers, and I need Belén’s head on a platter, and no kind of exposure will stop me. She’s a risk, one I’m not willing to continue to take. She has far too much information to stay a
live.
Why did she do it, and how the fuck do I go about this?
I have to speak to Abner, my Secretary, and see if there’s a crew out there in case things go down.
If I go over there, I’m not protected. Out there, I’m truly an outlaw, an outsider, an Independent in the midst of sharks. This Danté fucker needs to stay far away from Cape Hill, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Even if I die in the process.
“We need a meeting,” I bark at my Road Captain, Rip, who’s sitting at the bar like usual.
I appointed him when Dodgy stepped down. He’s an important asset. He sets up all the trips, all the drug runs, and everything to do with us and the road. He’ll know who to appoint to go with me, it’s his job to decide who goes on the road, and Abner will guide me to the others if there are any. I can’t leave the bar and crew wide open. Many of my men will have to stay behind while I get business handled.
It’s not usual for a Pres to go out and do the dirty work, but this is a special occasion. If she dies, which I hope she does, it’ll be by my hands and mine alone.
She made innocent blood shed, so now I’ll spill hers.
She messed with the wrong family.
Deaftone is sure to argue his case. He’ll want to be a part of her ending, but he’s VP. He can’t leave when I’m gone, it’ll turn our club into a madhouse.
Once everyone is in the main room, we start the discussion and game plan.
“Vipers,” I say and sign at the same time. “We recently found a scrapper, or rather two, in the midst of our ranks.” I stand taller, wanting to run a hand through my hair but unwilling to show how unnerved I truly am. “We have to stand together and weed out the untrustworthy. I’m really fucking upset about what’s been exposed already and pray it’s the last of it.”
They all nod, but Deaftone waves his hand up and down, asking for attention. He touches his chest and then gestures to the rest of the men.
“We don’t know how accurate the information is we were given on Xo.” He cringes on her name sign, his fingers clenching into a fist on the second swoop over his arm. “We all love our sister. She’s family. She’s blood.”
Welcome to Cape Hill (Cape Hill Vipers Book 0) Page 3