Chapter 2: The Serpent's Coil
Logan's body betrayed him.
The poison moved through him like liquid fire, racing along pathways that should have been fortified by decades of healing. His muscles locked, then spasmed, then locked again. The taste of her mouth was still on his lips, cloying and sweet, and beneath it, something chemical and cruel. He tried to move his arm, to summon the claws, to do anything but lie there while the rain from a thousand leaks dripped onto his face.
His hand twitched. That was all.
"Oh, don't," Viper murmured, stepping over him with a slow, unhurried grace. Her bare feet seemed to find every dry patch of concrete, avoiding the puddles that had begun to seep through his jacket. "Don't strain yourself, sugar. That poison's got you wrapped up tighter than a virgin's legs, and it's gonna hold you there for a good long while."
Logan's jaw worked. The words came out as a rasp, barely a whisper. "Gonna... kill you..."
"Mmhm." She crouched beside him, her face swimming in and out of focus as his vision blurred at the edges. "You keep telling yourself that, handsome. But right now, you couldn't swat a fly if it landed on your nose."
She reached out and traced the line of his jaw with a single finger. Her touch was cool, almost cold, and where her skin met his, the flesh tingled with a strange numbness. Logan tried to jerk his head away. Nothing. Not even a twitch.
"That's better," she said softly. "You're so much more peaceful like this. Less..." She paused, searching for the word. "Growly."
She straddled him then, her dress riding up her bare thighs as she settled her weight onto his hips. Logan felt it—the warmth of her, the press of her cunt through the thin fabric of her dress and the rough denim of his jeans. His body responded despite the poison flooding his veins, a slow, treacherous stiffness rising between his legs.
Viper felt it too. Her lips curled into a smile that was all teeth and hunger.
"Well, well," she purred, grinding down against him with a slow, circular motion that made his breath catch. "Look at that. Even with enough venom in your bloodstream to drop a rhino, you've still got some fight in you."
"Fuck... you..."
"That's the idea." She laughed, low and dirty, her hands moving to the zipper of his jeans. "But I'm gonna do the fucking, and you're gonna lay there and take it, pretty boy."
The sound of the zipper was obscenely loud in the empty warehouse. She worked his jeans down his hips with practiced ease, her fingers brushing against his cock as she freed it. He was hard, despite everything, his flesh straining against her touch.
"Jesus," she breathed, wrapping her fingers around him. "They didn't lie about you, did they? You're hung like a goddamn stallion."
Logan's vision swam. He could feel her hand on him—the cool pressure of her grip, the way her thumb traced the sensitive ridge beneath the head. Every touch sent sparks of pain and pleasure racing through his paralyzed body, the venom in his bloodstream amplifying each sensation until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
"I'm gonna take my time with you," Viper murmured, lowering her mouth to his shaft. "I'm gonna taste every inch of you before I let you inside me."
Her tongue—that long, forked tongue—flickered across the head of his cock, tasting the drops of precum that had beaded there. Logan's hips jerked involuntarily, a broken sound escaping his throat.
"Sweet," she observed, licking her lips. "Even through the poison, you taste like a man. All salt and muscle and that feral thing you carry inside you."
She took him in her mouth then, her lips stretching wide as she swallowed him to the root. Logan's world went white. She was warm and wet and impossibly skilled, her tongue writhing around him in ways no woman's tongue should be able to move. She pulled back slowly, scraping her teeth along his shaft, then plunged down again, taking him deeper.
Gagging sounds echoed through the warehouse, wet and obscene. Viper's head bobbed in a rhythm that was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the cruelty in her eyes as they stared up at him.
"You like that?" she asked, pulling off with a wet pop. A string of saliva connected her lips to the head of his cock. "You like feeling that pretty mouth of mine wrapped around your cock while you can't move a muscle?"
Logan's reply was a groan, torn from somewhere deep in his chest.
"That's what I thought." She stroked him slowly as she spoke, her hand moving in time with her words. "You're gonna remember this, Logan. You're gonna remember the night the Wolverine got turned into a fuck toy."
She mounted him without warning, sinking down onto his cock in one smooth motion. The heat of her was overwhelming, her inner walls gripping him like a fist. Logan's back arched off the concrete, a raw, ragged sound ripping from his throat as she began to ride him.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed, her head falling back. "You feel even better than I imagined. That thick cock of yours, stretching me open—"
She rode him slowly at first, a lazy, undulating motion that made his eyes roll back in his head. She moved her hips like a serpent, the muscles in her thighs flexing as she rose and fell on his shaft. Logan watched through blurred vision as she worked him, her dress bunched around her waist, her green-scaled thighs gleaming with sweat.
"You're so helpless," she said, her voice a low hiss. "So strong, so dangerous, and yet here you are, flat on your back, balls-deep inside me, and you can't do a goddamn thing about it."
She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest through the thin fabric of her dress. Her fangs grazed his neck, a warning and a promise.
"I'm going to drain you," she whispered against his skin. "Every drop of that healing factor, every ounce of that mutant blood. I'm going to ride you until you can't see straight, and then I'm going to bite down and drink you dry."
Logan's hands twitched at his sides. The claws didn't come.
"Don't bother," she said, as if reading his mind. "That poison's going to keep you nice and docile for the next few hours. Long enough for me to get what I came for."
She picked up the pace, her hips slamming against his with a wet, obscene sound. Her cunt gripped him with each stroke, her inner walls convulsing around his cock as she drove herself down onto him.
"Goddamn," she gasped, her claws digging into his shoulders as she ground her hips against him. "You're gonna make me come so fucking hard, Logan. I can feel it building already."
She was tight, impossibly tight, and hot as sin. Logan could feel his own release building, coiling in his gut like an animal waiting to strike. He tried to hold it back, tried to cling to some vestige of control, but the poison made everything more intense, more vivid, more overwhelming.
"That's it," Viper growled, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "Come for me, sugar. Fill me up with that hot, mutant seed."
The orgasm hit him like a freight train, ripping through his body with a force that made his vision go white. He came with a roar that echoed through the empty warehouse, his hips bucking wildly as he emptied himself into her.
Viper rode him through it, her own body shuddering as she came with him, her inner walls clenching around his cock as she milked every last drop.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him, her breath coming in heavy gasps. Her body was slick with sweat, her skin warm against his poisoned flesh.
"Not bad," she murmured against his ear, her forked tongue flickering out to taste the sweat on his neck. "Not bad at all, handsome."
Logan's eyes were closed, his breathing ragged. The venom still coursed through his veins, but there was something else now, a deeper exhaustion that went beyond mere poison.
"You're going to pay for this," he rasped.
Viper's laugh was soft, almost tender. "Hush now. We're not even close to done yet."
She sat up, her hips beginning to move again, slow and grinding.
"This is just the beginning."