Branded

by Wild, Clarissa

  A cloth and a hand pushing it down.

  “Shh, it’s me.”

  My eyes widen.

  “Don’t scream.”

  “Brandon?” I mumble as he gently removes the cloth. When I spin around, I whack him on the chest. “Why the fuck did you have to scare me like that?!”

  He snorts. “Old habits die hard.”

  My heart beats in my throat from the surprise. “How the fuck did you find me?”

  “I tracked the phone you stole. Matteo always keeps an extra in his car,” he says, shrugging. “Simple.”

  Simple. Right. If I’d known there was another phone, I’d have taken that one too. But of course, Brandon outsmarted me yet again. It’s only because that car belonged to his buddy from his uncle’s hotel. Or ex buddy. I still don’t know for sure what Brandon’s goal is. Or why he keeps chasing after me when I’m trying to pick up the ruins of my life.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he says, raising a brow. “Back at your dad’s place?”

  “None of your fucking business,” I reply, folding my arms. “You just had to follow me. Couldn’t leave me the fuck alone, could you?”

  “Nope.” He places both hands on the workbench behind me, trapping me between his arms. “You know I can’t do that, Dixie.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Give me one good reason.”

  “Because I owe it to myself,” he says, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “To you. To us.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” I scoff, and I turn my head.

  But he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “You know I don’t like it when you act like a little stuck-up princess.”

  “I’m no one’s princess,” I spit, jerking free.

  “You should be,” he muses.

  And for some reason, that makes my heart jump a little. Fuck. I hate that.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a master at grand escapes?” He grabs a strand of my hair and twirls it around his index finger. “I’m impressed.”

  “Shouldn’t have left me there all alone,” I say, still mad that he did.

  “I needed some time to think,” he says, “but I’m glad you missed me.”

  “I didn’t,” I reply, folding my arms, but I definitely feel a twinge in my chest. I won’t admit that to him, though. No way.

  “Of course you didn’t,” he says, winking fast … but I noticed.

  “Why’d you follow me here?” I ask. “I told you everything I know.”

  “Dixie, when will you learn?” He shakes his head and tsks. “You know I can’t leave you alone. Ever.”

  Goose bumps spread all over my skin. I try to ignore that feeling of electricity setting my skin on fire, but it’s hard … so damn hard. Especially when he puts his hand on my arm and squeezes.

  “I needed to make sure you were okay,” he says.

  I snort. “First, you want me dead, and now this? You change your mind a lot, Brandon.”

  “I’m still not quite sure about anything,” he says. “About the truth, about you …”

  “I didn’t lie,” I say, rubbing my lips together. “For once, that was the God’s honest truth, and I already told you that. But you don’t wanna believe me.”

  “I wanna believe you, Dixie. I really do,” he says. “But then, who killed my papa? Who else could it have been, huh?”

  “I dunno,” I say, shrugging. “It wasn’t me.”

  “If it was your brothers, you were indirectly responsible for that,” he says, glaring at me. “You know that.”

  “Right …” I sigh. “The Zippo.” Now I look him directly in the eyes as well. “Is that why you have my name tattooed on your back? Because you wanna take out all the people who ever wronged you? And you think I’m the one who caused your papa’s death?”

  A vicious smile spreads on his lips, and he strokes my hair again, this time tucking a strand behind my ear. “Such a smart, pretty girl …”

  Heat rises right where his finger touches my skin. Shit. Why does he make me feel this way?

  “I didn’t do it,” I say. “It wasn’t me or my brothers. You have to believe me.”

  “Right,” he mutters. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe you only said that so I’d release you.”

  “I’m free now,” I say. “I’m still telling you that you’re wrong.”

  “Oh, you think you’re free?” I wish I could wipe the smug smirk on his face off. “Free from what exactly?”

  “You,” I reply.

  He chuckles with his head lowered between his shoulders, and it makes my blood boil. Why, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m still denying any attraction between us. I’ll continue to deny that for my own mental health. Because if I ever admitted to having a thing for the guy who not only killed my brothers but also kept me a prisoner for his enjoyment, I’d probably punch myself.

  “You know that’s a lie,” he says, planting both his hands on the table beside me again.

  Has he always been this tall? This … huge? Or am I only noticing it now?

  I feel as though I can’t breathe, like something wrapped tightly around my lungs and constricted them.

  But I gotta stand my ground. I have to fight this.

  “You killed my brothers, Brandon. I can’t … I won’t ever feel something for you,” I say clutching the table behind me as if it’s my last hope. “You know that.”

  He nods, leaning in. “I know.”

  “Good. Because I can’t forgive you,” I add, sucking in a breath.

  “I’m not asking you to,” he says, cocking his head while leaning in even closer. “But don’t think that’ll stop me from claiming what I want.”

  “What do you want, Brandon?” I ask as he hovers so close to me that his breath leaves puffs of heated air on my skin.

  With a guttural voice, he says, “You.”

  And he grips my body and plants his lips on mine, whisking me away.

  Fuck. I’m a sucker for his lips, and he knows it. Always have been ever since we were kids.

  Why did we have to grow up so fucking fast and become such horrible people?

  And why can’t I stop myself from kissing him back?

  All this time, I’ve tried to resist. I forced myself to push back, to make him release me, to stop him from going any further. Because I knew I’d eventually cave.

  “Brandon,” I whisper between his volatile kisses.

  “Dixie,” he murmurs back.

  His lips roam everywhere; on my neck, my cheeks, my lips, my chest. I can’t breathe from his feverish kisses. Can’t fucking move as he puts his hands all over my body, touching me in ways I never thought I’d react to the way I am right now.

  Because fuck me, I want to spread my legs and let him fuck me.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Why am I not stopping him?

  He grabs my ass and pulls me closer to him. His lips brush along my ear, and he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

  My eyes burst open as his words resonate in my ears.

  “Wha—”

  “I’m sorry about your brothers,” he says with a soft, low voice that vibrates in my ear. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

  Fuck.

  I never thought I’d hear him say those words.

  And I never thought they’d mean so much to me when he did say them.

  How do you respond when the man you’ve hated your entire life apologizes for causing you so much pain? How do you move on from so much grief caused by a single person? The same person hanging on your lips right now?

  You kiss him back, of course.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dixie

  It’s the dumbest thing to do, but it’s the only thing my mind can think of right now.

  Nothing lulls the ache in my heart, the desperate need for vengeance. But his words, his lips, his touch … make me feel weak. They make me do things I never thought
I’d do.

  Brandon Locklear changed me.

  No man has ever managed to do that.

  And not only once but twice in my lifetime.

  How many more will there be?

  I hold my breath as he rips down my shirt and cups my breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth. He’s so rough, so coarse, so … manly. Without thought, without restraint, without … remorse.

  Except this once, when he apologized for something he says he didn’t even do.

  He was in their room the moment my brothers died, but he wasn’t the one to murder them.

  Does that make it okay?

  Does that mean I can look past what he did and let him take me?

  Is it wrong of me to want that?

  Fuck.

  My heart and mind are so confused, and I can’t even think straight as he wraps me in his arms and pulls me up to set me on my own workbench. He spreads my legs and stands between them, kissing me hard and fast as if he knows it could end just as fast as it started.

  But I don’t want it to end. Not right now, not when his lips are on my nipples, sucking hard, and his hands dive between my legs.

  Damn, I’m really pathetic.

  His tongue draws a line all the way back to my mouth, and he kisses me again, taking away all the bad thoughts.

  “I was worried I’d lost you,” he murmurs against my skin. “Forever, maybe.”

  “Maybe,” I reply. I used to be so certain, but I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.

  “I’ll take a maybe,” he says with a grin. Grabbing me tight, he pushes himself up against me, making me feel his hard-on. And fuck me, does it make me horny.

  But it’s wrong. We’re so wrong for each other.

  “Brandon, we have to stop,” I say between rabid kisses.

  “Says who?” he murmurs, tearing down my pants and panties in one go.

  No one, but that’s just it. We should be better than this. We have to. Or at least … I have to be. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” he asks, still kissing me between every word he speaks. “No one’s telling you not to except you.”

  He’s right. I’m the one who’s telling myself to quit right now. To stop this nonsense before it gets out of hand. I have to remember what he did, put the image in my head and never let go for the sake of my sanity. Because if I lose the need for revenge, then what else do I have left?

  “Tell me you don’t want this,” Brandon murmurs as he grabs my pussy with his hand and starts toying with my clit, making me painfully aware of how much my body enjoys it when he touches me there. “Say it out loud, Dixie, or I won’t believe it.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter as he continues playing me like a goddamn musician plays a guitar.

  I can’t even get my head straight as he steals another kiss and then dives straight down between my legs.

  “This has been long overdue,” he says, his voice dark and delish and not at all how I thought he sounded. Or maybe I was only fooling myself.

  But when his lips touch my pussy, I’m lost. My mind goes blank as his tongue swivels around my clit, expertly toying with me. It’s as if he knows precisely what I like because I can’t stop moaning and wanting to grab his hair. He has me under his spell completely with his mouth alone. And fuck me, I could come like this.

  “Fuck me, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs into my skin, suckling on my clit. “You taste like sin.”

  And he licks like a sinner, so together, we’re going straight to hell.

  “Remember that night in the shed a long time ago?” he says, and I nod. “You’ve been on my mind ever since. I tried to forget, but I couldn’t. I can’t fucking let you go, Dixie. I can’t.”

  With a flat hand, he pushes me down until my head is on the workbench, and I can no longer resist his relentless assault. My legs are wide open, my pussy thrumming and wet as he dives inside with his tongue. I gasp and bite my lip straight after when he circles around inside, making me desperate for more.

  Jesus, I can’t stop myself from clinging to the table, my fingers practically digging into the wood. That’s how good this is. That’s how badly he makes me forget everything he ever did.

  Fuck him.

  And fuck that fucking heavenly tongue of his.

  And fuck me for wanting even more.

  Because God only knows how I’d love for this to go on forever.

  “I could’ve given this to you every single day of our lives, Dixie,” he murmurs, licking my clit. “If only you hadn’t broken up with me.”

  God, I hate that he has to bring that up right now, making me feel guilty when I’m not the one who did something terrible. But he’s trying to make me forget, and it’s fucking working.

  “Shut up,” I mutter as he buries his tongue inside my pussy.

  He takes a brief break only to laugh. “You know you like it. All you had to do was say yes.”

  God, he’s so obnoxious. And so damn right that it’s making me wanna scratch my nails all over his back … Or maybe that’s the horniness talking.

  I’m getting so close to a climax that I can’t keep my tongue from rolling over my lips. Right as I moan, he pulls back, and whispers, “You’re about to come, aren’t you?”

  “Fuck,” I reply. “Maybe?”

  A devilish smile warps his face. “Beg.”

  “What?” I mutter, my whole body buzzing.

  “You heard me,” he says, his fingers digging into my skin as he grips my thighs tight. “Beg me.”

  A part of me wants to rip him a new one, but then my lips part, and I say, “Please … do it.”

  “Do what?” He raises a brow, making me wanna slap him in the face.

  But I don’t. Instead, I reply, “Lick me.”

  The smirk on his face only grows bigger. “You got it, cupcake.”

  Fuck, I really hate it when he calls me that.

  Except now, when he immediately dives back in, sucking and licking like a goddamn pro.

  I’ll be his cupcake as long as he keeps his tongue right there on the right spot until I finish.

  And fuck me, do I finish hard.

  “Yes, come all over me,” he growls, circling my clit until I explode.

  I moan out loud and grasp his hair as I’m immersed in the ripples of ecstasy flowing through my body. Damn, that was some good head.

  However, I can’t even catch my breath because he immediately pulls me toward the edge of the workbench and rips down his zipper, pulling out his hard-on. I still can’t wrap my head around how big he really is … or my hands, for that matter.

  Without holding back, he plunges into my pussy and buries himself to the base. My jaw drops and a tiny squeak rolls off my tongue at the feel of him inside me. I’m still getting used to the size of him as he begins to thrust. With an animal-like gaze, he looks me directly in the eye, wanting me to know I’m his. Like I have no say in it. Like I’ve lost my heart to him a long time ago.

  Fuck. I can’t, but I can’t stop wanting him to bang me even harder too.

  My feet clamp around his legs, and my breasts bounce up and down. They draw his attention, and he plays with my nipples, tugging them, twisting them, making me squeal.

  “I fucking love those sounds you make,” he says, and he groans in excitement.

  Every time he says something, my heart feels as though it’s about to jump out of my chest. Like I wanna wrap my arms around him and never let go. But I still hate him. I should.

  “Gonna come again for me, pretty girl?” he asks. Thrusting hard and fast, he pushes my head to almost bump into the wall.

  I love it when he calls me that. It’s a better name than cupcake, that’s for sure.

  “Say that again,” I say, licking my lips. “And maybe I will.”

  “What … are you purring for me now?” He wraps his fingers around my throat, but this time I’m not even scared. I don’t know why. It’s just something in his eyes. Something’s changed. I don’t think he’ll kill me an
ymore. He wants to control me … and fuck me into complete ruin.

  “Are you my pretty girl?” His voice is dark, laced with a deep, dark intent.

  I know I shouldn’t say yes.

  I really shouldn’t.

  Not to a man like him.

  But that’s just it. All this time, I’ve been doing everything I shouldn’t, and everything I wanted so desperately.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  A fire lights in his eyes, one that even sets my soul ablaze just by looking at him. And he bangs me even harder than before, tightening the grip around my neck until I can barely breathe.

  At that moment, I find bliss.

  All the madness fades away and leaves only euphoria in its wake.

  A sliver of peace in my unruly mind.

  His hands slide down my chest, releasing the pent-up pressure, and I take in my first breath of oxygen like a newborn. I feel renewed … practically reborn. Our eyes fixed on each other in a fight for control. But I already know I’m not the winner. He is.

  He grabs my back and pulls me into his embrace, pressing his lips on mine and forcing me to forget the pain and suffering and only focus on the here and now. Each thrust is another one that expunges the memories of our past and forges new ones. Delicious ones. Memories that I don’t want to be just that … memories.

  I want them to last.

  Fuck.

  He’s really gotten to me.

  I’m head over heels in deep.

  To the point where I can’t take my eyes off him as he goes faster and faster, banging me like the sun won’t be here tomorrow and we’re the last people left on the goddamn planet.

  It doesn’t even matter that we’re in a dreary, crummy shed, or that we’re banging on my greasy, unkempt workbench right behind my dad’s house. Nothing matters right now except this … Him … Us …

  Fucking each other into oblivion.

  The look in his eyes is all consuming. Addictive. I can’t get enough. Can’t fucking look away as I’m about to climax from his thrusts alone.

  “Yes, come for me. I wanna see you fall apart,” he groans, holding my legs tight.

  My lips part, and a moan escapes. The orgasm overcomes me, cascading out of my body like a damn waterfall. Brandon captures me in his grasp, holding me close to kiss me. Right then, he releases himself inside me. His cock swells, veins pulsing, and his warmth spreads everywhere. He grunts inside my mouth as his seed fills me up to the brim.