Chapter 008: Mad Dream🔞

VIVIENNE pov.

Sleep found me in a chokehold, dragged me under with exhaustion so deep I barely made it to the bed, towel wrapped around my body, hair wet and dripping over the sheets. The last thing I remembered was plotting new ways to kill Kane and the rest, and then everything got hazy, electric, and fever-hot.

The dream started like a memory, sharp and bloody, but then it twisted. I was naked, wrists bound in chains, the chains were real in the dream, cold iron biting my wrists, holding me stretched tall, toes barely scraping the stone floor. My body was already slick with sweat, thighs trembling, cunt throbbing so hard I could feel my pulse in my clit. The torches threw gold and crimson over four sets of glowing eyes, and the air tasted like gunpowder and sex.

They didn’t speak at first, instead they just circled.

Dante stepped in first, shirt open, chest carved from war and marble. He didn’t touch me with his hands. He used his mouth.

A slow, open-mouthed kiss to the center of my throat, tongue flattening, dragging upward until he sucked hard enough to bruise, then bit down, teeth sinking into the muscle until I jerked in the chains and cursed loud enough to rattle the walls.

“Figlio di puttana!(Son of a whore)” I snarled, head snapping back. “I’ll rip your fucking tongue out!”

He answered by biting harder, then soothing the mark with a slow, wet lick that made my knees buckle. His hand finally came up, two fingers sliding along my bottom lip, forcing my mouth open. When I tried to bite, he shoved them deeper, pressing down on my tongue, fucking my mouth slow and deliberate while his eyes stayed locked on mine, cold, amused, lethal.

“You’re dripping down your thighs already, little viper,” he said against my ear, voice dark and thick “Keep cursing. It makes me harder.”

Kane was next.

He didn’t bother with gentleness. He grabbed a fistful of my wet hair, yanked my head to the side, and crushed his mouth to mine, brutal, punishing, teeth clashing, tongue forcing its way past my lips like he owned the fucking air I breathed. I bit him, tasted blood, and he growled into my mouth, kissing me deeper, swallowing every filthy insult I tried to spit.

When he pulled back there was blood on both our lips.

“Open your legs,” he ordered.

“Fottiti, bastardo,(Fuck yourself, bastard)” I hissed, and slammed my knee up toward his balls.

He caught my thigh mid-air, forced it wide, and shoved two thick fingers between my folds, not inside, just spreading me open so the cool air hit my soaked cunt. He held me there, exposed, while the others watched.

“Look at that greedy little pussy,” Kane laughed, dark and ugly. “Clenching around fucking nothing. You hate us so much you’re flooding for us.”

He dragged those fingers up, slow, gathering wetness, then brought them to my mouth and smeared my own slick across my lips like gloss.

“Taste how much you want to be bred, whore.”

I snapped at his fingers. He slapped me, open-palmed, sharp crack across my cheek that made my head snap sideways and heat explode behind my eyes.

“Say it again,” he growled.

“Vaffanculo, Kane,(Go fuck yourself, Kane)” I spat, blood on my tongue, and he slapped me again, harder, the sting blooming hot and sweet. My cunt clenched so hard I whimpered.

Ryker dropped to his knees in front of me like a penitent sinner, hands sliding up the backs of my thighs, thumbs digging into muscle until I hissed. He didn’t ask, he just leaned in and dragged his tongue, flat and slow, from the bottom of my slit all the way up to my clit, one long, filthy lick that stopped just short of the swollen bundle of nerves screaming for attention.

I bucked, chains rattling and he did it again, slower, moaning like a starving man against my flesh.

“Fuck, you taste like war and honey,” he groaned, then sucked my clit between his lips, no warning, just hard, pulsing suction that ripped a broken cry out of me.

I tried to close, so fucking close but he pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at me, chin glistening.

“Not yet, Red.”

“Cazzo, ti ammazzo!(“Fuck, I’ll kill you)” I screamed, thrashing.

He slapped my clit, sharp, perfect sting that made me see stars and sob at the same time.

“Keep screaming in Italian,” he purred. “I’m gonna come just listening to you curse me while you cry for my tongue.”

Asher moved behind me, silent as always.

His hands were cool, almost gentle, spreading my ass cheeks. I felt his breath first, hot against the small of my back, then lower, then his tongue, wet, wicked, tracing the rim of my ass in slow, lazy circles while Ryker went back to tormenting my clit with soft kitten licks that were nowhere near enough.

I lost language for a second, just raw, animal noise.

Asher pressed the tip of his tongue inside me there, just the tip, just enough to make me clench and sob, then withdrew, blowing cool air over the wet ring of muscle.

“Such a pretty little hole,” he whispered, voice soft and reverent. “We’re going to ruin it one day. But not tonight.”

Dante stepped in again, this time pressing his clothed cock against my stomach, letting me feel how hard he was, thick, ridged, burning through the fabric. He grabbed my jaw, forced me to look at him.

“Tell me you don’t want it,” he said quietly.

I laughed, hoarse, wild, tears and sweat mixing on my face.

“I’d rather die than beg you animals.”

He smiled, slow, and terrible.

“Good.”

He dropped to his knees beside Ryker, both of them now, two mouths on my cunt at once, Dante sucking my clit while Ryker licked inside me, tongue fucking me shallow and fast, trading places, competing, making wet, obscene sounds that echoed off stone. Kane’s hand wrapped around my throat from the side, squeezing just enough to make my head swim, while Asher kept teasing my ass with soft licks and filthy promises.

I was shaking, sobbing, cursing, hips rolling helplessly.

“Please, fuck, please.”

The word slipped out, broken, and raw before I know it and they stopped.

All four of them and then they just stepped back.

They left me hanging there, dripping, shaking, cunt clenching on nothing, tears of pure rage burning down my cheeks.

Dante stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glowing.

“Look at you,” he said softly. “Ten million dollars hanging in chains, sobbing for cocks you swear you hate. We haven’t even fucked you yet, Vivienne. And you’re already ruined.”

Kane grabbed my chin, forced me to meet his eyes.

“When you wake up,” he said, voice gravel and venom, “you’re going to feel our mouths on you like brands. And you’re still going to be empty.”

Ryker blew a kiss up at my swollen, untouched cunt.

“Sleep tight, Red. Tomorrow we start the real torment.”

Asher leaned in until his mouth hovered a hair’s breadth from my skin, tongue dragging slow and deliberate across the salt-streaked cheeks, drinking my tears like they were the last water in hell.

“Stubborn little wolf,” he crooned, voice dark. “We’re going to unmake you. Bone by bone. Prayer by prayer.”

His lips brushed mine, not a kiss, something filthier, a promise sealed in spit and teeth.

“Piece,” he bit the word into my lower lip until copper bloomed,

“by trembling,” his hand slid up my chest, grabbing my boob, nails carving burning crescents across my ribs,

“piece.”

Then the dream world cracked opened, I jolted awake, every nerve on fire, lungs seizing, convinced for one suffocating second that his teeth were still buried in my throat, my pulse thundered, my thighs still shaking and my entire body screaming like it had actually been touched, used, filled, and undone but the scream lodged in my throat wasn’t from the dream. It was from the presence in the room.

My head snapped to the side and there they were.

Dante and Ryker standing with shadows carved across their faces, eyes glowing an unnatural shade of red, feral red, and heat‑drunk red.

They don't look human, civilized or even sane.

Dante’s chest rose and fell too slowly, like he was holding himself together by sheer force and Ryker’s lips were parted, a soundless laugh caught on his tongue.

And then my gaze dropped before I could stop it causing my breath to seize for some seconds.

Their cocks were rigid, monstrous against the fabric of their trousers, twitching with every ragged breath they took, the outline so obscene it looked painful, precome already soaking through in dark spreading stains.

Dante’s lips parted, a low, animal sound crawled out of him, too deep to be human and Ryker took one step forward, floorboards groaning like they were begging him to stop and he stopped, his eyes on me and the dream I had flashed in my mind.

The way my thighs still trembled from a dream they hadn’t even touched.

Their scents hit me, hot, sharp, and very Alpha causing my wolf to spasmed, weak, hungry, and maybe terrified.

Dante spoke first, voice low enough to crawl across my spine.

“You were loud.”

Ryker tilted his head, eyes dragging over me, “Very loud,” he murmured. “Pretty thing, moaning for ghosts.”

My breath caught but I couldn’t tell if it was fear or fury or something worse.

Dante stepped closer, the predator fully awake now.

“Tell me, Viper,” he said softly, “Who were you begging for in your sleep?”

Ryker’s grin sharpened, wicked, and knowing.

“Or” he whispered, tongue flicking across his teeth, “should we show you the difference between a dream and the real thing?”