The water sloshes around my chest as I fuck myself. Faster and faster I work my body, thinking about the man who saved me. The man who came to my rescue. The man who gave me a real adventure.
I went to be alone because I don't know where I belong. And I found a man who made me forget. He took all of my fears and worry away, even if it was just for a single night.
Sliding in a second finger, my other hand grips my breast and squeezes. Pinching my nipple. The smell of his cologne and our sex is in the steam, rising from the tub. My hand moves faster and faster, and my hips rock as I drive my clit into my palm.
I'm doing everything I can to not cry out with pleasure. Biting my tongue, I hold my breath as the orgasm rushes through me like an explosion. My toes curl and my eyes scrunch tight.
As the orgasm buzzes from my head to my feet, I open my eyes. Goosebumps are making my skin feel textured and my stomach is trembling. Even out of sight, Branson has the power to make me smile.
Grinning to myself, I soak in the tub until my fingers prune up. I feel better. I'm clean, my hair is washed, and all the dirt is gone, but I still catch a faint scent of his cologne as I dry my hair with a towel.
I don't know what to do. If the rumors are true, it should be easy to forget him. It would be an honest mistake. A one-time whoops that I won't make again. Except that's not what I feel at all.
He's on my mind, he's in every thought, he's all I can think about. The person my brother described is not the person I met.
But a mask is easy to wear for some people. Maybe he's exactly who they say he is. Maybe he is some asshole dead beat that left his family.
Except, that's not who I think I met.
There's always some truth to a rumor. No matter how wrong it might be.
This man, this forbidden fruit, I shouldn't want anything to do with him. But as I lay in bed with Buttercup at my feet, there's something missing. Even with all the blankets keeping me tucked in, I still feel cold. This emptiness I feel is a void that's all around me.
I know exactly what's missing. . .
Bran's arms around me.
7
Branson
Hitting the piece of wood hard, I grunt. My hands hurt, my back hurts, my head hurts. Everything fucking hurts. I've done nothing but throw myself into my work for the past week trying to forget Melody.
It isn't working.
I don't know what the hell I was thinking sleeping with her. She's only eighteen, barely legal. Had I known that when I found her in the river, I'm not sure I would have lost control as easily.
Yes, she's of age, but it doesn't change the fact that she's just out of high school and I'm almost thirty. There's an entire decade between us. I knew she was younger than me, I just didn't realize it was so much.
And still that isn't changing the fact that she's on my mind every second of every day. It's been over a week since that night, and it's as if time has just stopped completely. There are sores on my hands from the handle of the hammer, and blisters from gripping the paint brush so tightly.
But her bright red hair, her shining emerald eyes, and all those cute little freckles keep infiltrating my thoughts. Her skin was so soft, her body so perfect, all I keep thinking about is licking her all over. Every crease, every dip and curve from head to toe.
I’ve got to get a hold of myself. This is fucking nuts.
Shaking my head, I grab the stool and pull it up to my work bench. Dabbing the tip of my brush into the white paint, I flesh out the eyes of my newest piece. It's a wooden face of a man with a long beard.
I've been working on it for some time now, hand carving it from a piece of fallen oak I found in the forest.
My hand moves in slow, precise strokes as I give life to his eyes. I'm trying so hard to focus, but I can't. I'm wondering what she's doing, and how her ankle is. I'm wondering if she's thought about me at all or if she's just gone back to living her life as if we never met.
Dropping the brush into the cup of turpentine, I lean back and grab my head with both hands. I can't keep going like this. I can't keep living with her burned in my memory this way. Groaning, I drag my fingers down my face, dropping them onto my lap.
This sucks. Why can't I just let her go?
Pushing away from the work bench, I look down at my hands. They're covered in paint and saw dust. Washing them in the sink, I grab a glass and fill it with cold water.
Standing at my sink, my house is quiet, but my head is loud as fuck. Our night together rushes in, the images vivid and alive. The warmth of her slit as it slipped over my prick makes my body tremble even now.
She was so wet, so tight, so damn fucking smooth. I harden at the thought, pulsing in my pants.
Letting out a heavy breath, I adjust my dick and decide to go to bed. I'm tired, and if I jerk off one more time because of her, my dick might fall off. I haven't been able to go one day without pleasuring myself.
Falling face first onto my bed, I curl my hands under my pillow and close my eyes. I just want to sleep her away. I want to sleep long enough that when I wake up I don't remember anything.
A fresh start. A new day. A lost memory. That's exactly what I need.
“Hey.” I hear a voice. It's so soft I almost miss it.
Opening my eyes, I rub them a few times to make sure I'm actually seeing what I think I'm seeing.
Melody is sitting next to me, her hair is down, her curls wildly framing her heart shaped face. Wearing nothing but a long t-shirt, her nipples press against the thin fabric, hard as pebbles. Her legs are bare, and I can't help but reach out and touch them.
Smooth, warm, her thighs open slightly as my fingertips reach the edge of her shirt. There's no doubt I'm confused about her being her, but I can't deny the excitement that floods my body when I see her.
With big doe eyes, she looks down on me, waiting for me to speak. My mind is still trying to figure this all out, battling with questions and happiness.
“What are you doing here?” I finally ask. “How did you get in?” I try to push myself up, but she quickly stops me by placing both her hands on my shoulders and pushing me back down. She throws a leg over my body, straddling me.
She leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Don't worry about that right now. Just enjoy the fact I'm here.” Her lips graze the shell of my ear as she exhales a warm breath across my cheek. “I missed you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Really?” I ask as her hands glide down my chest, massaging me deep.
She smiles. A sexy, coy little smile as she pulls her bottom lip in with her teeth. “I need you, Bran.”
Melody places a soft kiss against the side of my face. She moves lower, placing a new kiss each time. On my chin, down my neck, from one side of my face to the other. Her hands explore my chest, nails tickling down over my abs.
I shiver slightly as she tickles back up, moving her fingers through my hair.
“Mel, I don't think this is—”
“Shh,” she hushes me silent. “Then don't think. Let me show you what you need and what I want.” Climbing on top of me, she drags the very edge of her nails down my ribs until they hit my pants.
With utter slowness, she moves her fingers back and forth under the seam. I'm rock hard, so fucking hard it hurts. Her eyes move to my erection and she grins.
Her eyes lower seductively as she slides one hand down, tracing my length. Gripping the tip, she licks her lips.
“I want that so bad,” she says.
“Yeah? You want my cock?”
“I do. It's all I've been thinking about.” Gently tugging the band of my sweatpants down, my shaft bounces free, standing straight up. “Mm,” she moans as she grips my thick shaft and starts to stroke it up and down.
I groan instantly, forgetting why I'd ever try and stop this. My muscles tense up and my head falls back on the pillow as I dig my hands into her hips. She's rocking against me, rolling her body as if she's already riding my dick.
Her
hand tightens. My eyes snap shut. She hits the base and swiftly moves back to the tip. My lungs cease to work, and I hold what little breath I have.
Faster and faster she jerks my cock. My stomach begins to clench and my balls are drawing up high and tight.
I can't come yet. I want to be inside her.
Grabbing her hand, I stop her. Our eyes connect and a smile dangles at the corner of her lips. Pressing up on her knees, she holds my dick and rubs the tip up and down over her wet slit.
Her slit drips down my shaft, silky and warm as her arousal lubes my shaft. Pressing my engorged head into her entrance, she lowers slowly. Melody moans as she pushes her palms into my chest and starts to ride me.
She feels so good wrapped around me like this. I can't take my eyes off her. She's beautiful. The way she nibbles on her bottom lip as her head rolls around loosely on her shoulders while she's fucking me. The way her breathing matches her pace, and her tits bounce as she grinds our bodies together. . . She's fucking perfect.
Slipping one hand up her belly, I grab her tit and squeeze. Pinching her nipple, I roll it between the pads of my fingers, drawing out a moan from her.
“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” I say.
Her eyes open and she looks down at me. Digging her nails into my chest, she starts to move faster. Over and over she slams her ass down, rubbing herself against my lower stomach.
“You're so hard,” she says as her entire body drops forward, and she buries her face into the crook of my neck. Her back arches high, and her hands slip into my hair. “I'm so close, I'm so close.”
Wrapping my arms around her back, I hold her against me and thrust myself up inside her. Her thighs start to shake and I feel her entire body give out above me as she moans against my neck.
Giving one last thrust, my shaft bursts in her pussy. Pump after pump of come fills her, dripping back down my length. The warm come pools around my base as we both lay still, breathing heavy.
Her heart is racing, I can feel it as it beats against my chest. Her fingers are still tangled in my hair as she tries to sit up, but I refuse to let her. I don't want to let her go.
The thought of this ending makes my chest tight, forming a pit in my stomach.
Knock, knock, knock.
Lifting my head up to the sound and opening my eyes, the first thing I do is look for her. I'm alone. I'm still in my clothes from the night before, laying on top of the covers.
It was a dream. . . A cruel fucking dream.
Rolling onto my back, I scratch my fingers through my hair and yawn. Another fucking dream that is so real I swear I can still smell her perfume on my blanket. Groaning, I wipe my hands down my face and blink my eyes a couple times.
Knock, knock, knock.
Lifting my head, I listen. It sounds like someone is at my door, but that can't be right. No one comes here. People know better. Even over the past week, the few people I normally exchange a few words with were met with frustrated grunts.
I haven't been in the mood for anything. Especially having a conversation. I don't like talking to people on a normal day, but I play nice, I give the forced smile and casual niceties so people don't see me as a total asshole.
They still see me as something. I've heard what they think of me.
But I have to sell my art. Luckily, the internet has made it a whole lot easier for me. I can sell more without having to even see the client face to face.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Growling, I yell, “I'm coming, hold the fuck on!” With reluctant steps, I head down the stairs to the front door.
I swear, if this someone trying to sell me a damn vacuum, I'm going to slam my door in their face.
Yanking the door open, I snap, “What?”
My jaw drops and my eyes widen as the shock hits me.
“Is this a bad time?”
She's here. I'm tempted to pinch myself, but instead I rub my eyes.
“Melody?”
“I'm sorry. If this is a bad time, I'll leave.”
I'm almost speechless. She's the last person I'd expect to see on my doorstep. “No, it's fine, I just didn't expect you.”
“I would have called first, but you never gave me your number.” She giggles, and fuck that damn giggle makes my blood hot.
My mind is racing. I don't even know what to say. Her hands are folded across her waist and she's rocking back and forth on her heels. Her eyes dart around my face, then look out at the woods surrounding my home.
“Beautiful place you got here,” she says softly.
“Thank you.” That's it. That's all I say.
There's an awkwardness between us. I can feel it, making the air so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“So, are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Stepping out of the way, I open the door wider. “Come on in.”
As she walks past me, I catch the scent of lilac and lavender. Her hair is in a loose braid, and she has a little hint of makeup on. Nothing crazy, just a light bronze shadow and some mascara.
It's subtle, but enough to make her eyes jump out even more. My fingers itch at my side to wrap her braid around my fist, and my lips tingle to kiss her.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “You want some coffee or something?”
“No, I'm all right. Thank you, though.”
My eyes lick up and down her body. In tight jean shorts and a black tank-top, I notice she has a bandage around her ankle.
“How's your ankle?” I ask.
“It's fine, just a sprain. Nothing broken, which is good.”
“Good, I'm glad to hear that.”
Say something! Tell her what you feel!
There are a million things I want to say to her, but I can't. This girl is only eighteen, she hasn't even started her life yet. I can't tell her how she's all I can think about. I can't tell her that my heart speeds up when I picture her face or how my stomach flips when I think about the night we shared.
She'd think I'm crazy. I don't need another rumor to start.
I'm twenty-eight, I know my place in this world. I know who I am and where I belong. She hasn't even dipped a toe in the water yet.
“So, what brings you here?” I finally ask, trying to relax my nerves.
Her hands fumble around each other and her eyes jump around all over the place. “I just wanted to thank you for what you did. I don't think I thanked you properly. If you weren't there, I don't know where I'd be right now.”
“You'd still be hobbling down that mountain,” I say jokingly.
Melody laughs and nods her head. “Yeah, you're right, I probably would be.” She bites her bottom lip, tugging it in. “But seriously, I'm grateful for what you did.”
“It's fine, anyone else would have done the same thing.”
“But it wasn't anyone else, it was you.” She takes a small step forward and drops her arms to her sides. “And I'm glad it was you. I really enjoyed our night together.” Her voice is sultry and strong.
“Look,” I say, holding up my hand, “I'm sorry, that should have never happened. If I had known you were eighteen—”
“Then what?” she asks, her tone changing, voice dropping angrily. “If you had known I was eighteen then what? You wouldn't have slept with me? You wouldn't have given me the greatest night of my life?”
“Melody, no that's not what I mean. I just mean you're young, you—”
“I'm an adult and I know what I want. I know I wanted you that night. And if I remember correctly, I was the one who made the first move. I was the one who wanted it. But if you're not man enough for a woman who doesn't second guess herself, then maybe I should just go.”
She turns quickly, ready to sprint for the door. But I catch her, grabbing her by the shoulders and whipping her around. I can't let her go like this. I can't let her think that I regret what happened.
Because I don't.
Melody doesn't realize that she's become a permanent fixture in my head. That I can't sleep wi
thout dreaming about her, or go one second without her crossing my mind.
With fierceness, I crush my lips against hers. I kiss her so she can feel what I can't say out loud. I kiss her so she knows that I've missed her this entire week. I kiss her so she knows that I have no regrets.
Melody moans into our kiss, her body falling into my arms willingly. There's no resistance. This is what she wants. Her lips taste like cherry gloss, and her tongue tastes like mint.
Her hands sweep up into my hair as she climbs onto the tips of her toes to kiss me harder. My cock is hard within seconds. Rock hard, throbbing in my pants, ready to burst through the material.
I should stop this. I should break away and just tell her to go.
But I don't. I kiss her savagely, with so much hunger I almost knock her off her feet. Walking her backwards, her back hits the wall and she moans again.
Pulling her lips off of mine, she's breathing like she just ran a marathon. Her eyes flick around my face as she plays with my hair.
“I know how to thank you for what you did.”
Eyeing her curiously, her smile thickens as she bites down on the tip of her tongue. Lowering to her knees, her hands drift down my chest. Eagerly, she licks her lips and pulls my prick out.
“Wait, maybe. . .” My voice fades to nothing as her tongue runs around my tip. Sucking my entire shaft into her mouth, I close my eyes. I want to pinch myself to make sure this real. But I'm afraid to. I want this to be real, and not another dream. Instead, I dig my fingers into her hair, and help her fuck me with her mouth.
If I am dreaming, I never want to wake up.
8
Melody
My fingers don't even touch each other as I hold his shaft in my hand. He's throbbing, as if his dick has a pulse of its own.
I can feel it beating against my palm, pounding faster and faster as I bring it to my mouth. The tip is already glistening, sticky and wet. My eyes jump up to his as I flatten my tongue and touch him for the first time.
Bran sucks in a quick breath and holds it. His fingers find my hair, tugging gently at my roots. I moan against his cock as he eases into my mouth, and I let him keep going until he hits the back of my throat. His fingers wrap tighter, and I can feel his nails rake across my scalp.
Big Man’s Claim Page 5