Brando

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Why?”

  She stopped in front of him. “Because I liked the conversation we had.”

  “Which one?”

  “When you asked what my favorite color was. I want more conversations like that.”

  He frowned. “Save it for another day, I’m going to bed. So, either leave or strip.”

  “Brando!”

  A smile pulled at his lips. “No matter whether I like chocolate or the color green, it won’t change my nature, which means you should go before I try to bend you over my bed.”

  “How about I bend you over the bed?”

  “Don’t be stupid, I have a cock and you don’t, and you’re not sticking anything up my culo.”

  “I was just trying to make you understand how I felt.”

  “Mission failed, so do your womanly duty and bend over.”

  “Can you please stop talking about sex.”

  He went to say something.

  She held a hand up, cutting him off. “Before you say anything crude or chauvinistic, how about we sit down on the bed and talk?”

  “Only if you kiss me.”

  “Only if you tell me something I want to hear.”

  “Okay, I’m game.” He whipped his towel off and sat down on the bed, giving her a cheeky grin. “I sleep naked. Now, give me a kiss,” he said, puckering his lips.

  “I didn’t ask what you wear to bed,” she said, trying not to look at his cock.

  “I still told you something you wanted to hear, so give me my payment.”

  “No, you told me something you wanted to say. You have to answer my questions and vice versa.”

  “You didn’t stipulate that. If you do any negotiations make sure it’s known up front.”

  Amused by his mock-serious tone, she walked around the bed and lay down on her side, using her hand to prop her head up. “Then let’s start over. I’ll ask a question and if you answer it honestly, you get a kiss.”

  “Ask away, then,” he said, mirroring her pose.

  She went silent, trying to think of what to ask him, while also trying to keep her eyes off his cock.

  “Hurry up,” he said. “I want my kiss.”

  She smiled. “Be patient, I’m thinking.”

  “I suppose it’ll take longer for you since your brain’s so tiny.”

  “Hey!” She punched his arm. “Don’t insult me!”

  He rubbed his arm and laughed. “You’re so easy to annoy. Now, ask me something or I’ll start.”

  “Okay, you go first while I think.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself...”

  She raised a fist.

  “...or me.” Smirking, he lowered her hand. “And since my brain is so big—like my cock, I already have a question ready for you.”

  “That’s because your brain’s in your cock.”

  “Ha! You got me there.”

  “Victory is sweet.”

  “Your kisses are even sweeter, so here’s my question: When was the first time you had an orgasm?”

  “Brando!”

  He placed a finger to her lips. “Sssh, people are sleeping.”

  “Then don’t ask horrible questions.”

  “You still have to answer me.”

  “I’ve never had one,” she said, feeling embarrassed.

  He pulled a face, looking like he didn’t believe her. “You’re kidding me.”

  She shook her head. “I was repulsed by my German master, so just endured sex with him, while the Black Russian was more into causing me pain than pleasure, plus what I did with a couple of the Vipers—”

  His eyes lit up. “You like women?”

  She scowled at him. “No! The Black Russian ordered me to have sex with them.”

  “Which ones in the house did you fuck?”

  “Brando!”

  “Please tell me.”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll go ask the other Vipers.”

  She scowled at him. “Cyn and Kennedy.”

  “Oh,” he said, no longer looking pleased. “Is that why you hate them?”

  “No, I didn’t like them from the start. I always found Cyn vulgar, even before she slept with my ex, while Kennedy was a different matter. When I first met her, she acted around me like she’s doing with Bella. I told her I wasn’t interested, so she backed off, and everything was fine for a while, then one night she got stinking drunk and kissed me. In response, I punched her a bit too hard.”

  “What’s a bit too hard?”

  She grimaced. “I broke her nose.”

  Brando sniggered.

  Ivy smacked him. “It’s not funny! Ever since then she’s been a right bitch to me.”

  “And you’re surprised?”

  “I didn’t mean to hit her that hard, it was a reflex reaction. Unfortunately, the Black Russian knew we didn’t get along, which was why he ordered the threesome. He was punishing me for not following orders. Occasionally, we had to sleep with his clients. There was this one man who was absolutely repulsive. I couldn’t let him touch me, so my oldest sister took him to bed instead.” Ivy breathed out. “Farah was always trying to protect me, but unfortunately, the Black Russian found out and asked why I hadn’t followed his orders. I told him the reason, so he found something equally repulsive for me to do: Cyn and Kennedy.”

  “So, you’ve never had sex willingly?”

  “I did with my ex, but he was inexperienced. It was why the Black Russian went ballistic when he caught us.”

  “Why did he go mad if he made you fuck everyone else?”

  “Because his guards were meant to be untouched. They were chosen from a young age to make sure they were virgins.” She breathed out, what she’d done with Sasha opening up the door to his own personal hell. “They all had to swear a vow of celibacy, and if they broke it, the punishment ranged from torture to death. It was why Sasha and I tried to keep our relationship a secret.”

  “What did the Black Russian do when he found out?”

  “He...” She paused, not wanting to say it. Although she loved Sasha, she wished she’d never met him—for his sake. His punishment for breaking his vow was forever seared into her mind, what the Black Russian had done to him beyond evil. She’d been chained to the Black Russian’s bedroom wall and made to watch Sasha get one of his testicles removed, unable to do a thing as he screamed in agony. The Black Russian had said he would remove the other one as well if Sasha ever touched Ivy again. After Sasha had recovered, the Black Russian started treating him as a sexual plaything.

  “He, what?” Brando asked.

  Ivy cleared her throat, not willing to tell him about Sasha’s mutilation. “He degraded my ex in front of others, like the time he ordered Cyn to peg Sasha.”

  “She fucked him with a strap-on?”

  “Yes, and in front of a crowd.”

  “No way! That’s sick. The poor man.”

  “Look, I don’t want to talk about Sasha,” she breathed out, forcing the images out of her head.

  “Okay, I’ll back off. It just really sucks that you don’t like sex,” Brando said, looking disappointed.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, and I would’ve come with my ex if the Black Russian didn’t walk in on us. I was also close to coming with your brother—”

  His eyes widened. “I’ll fucking kill Alessandro!”

  Ivy grabbed his arm before he could get up. “It wasn’t Alessandro.”

  He yanked his arm free, his expression furious. “Then who?!”

  “Ricardo.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Of all the people to cheat on me with—”

  “I didn’t cheat on you,” she said, now annoyed, especially since they weren’t even a freaking couple, Brando getting way ahead of himself. “It was before I’d even met you, plus it was a misunderstanding. He was moaning, looking like he wanted sex. I didn’t realize the antidote I’d given him for his condition was making him hallucinate, so I—”

  He shot off the bed. “I don�
��t want to fucking hear this!” He stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

  She grimaced, realizing she shouldn’t have brought it up. Though, she’d assumed everyone had heard about her literal fuckup with Ricardo.

  She pushed out of bed and opened the bathroom door. Brando was leaning over the basin, his back free from bandages. Under the bright light, his whip marks looked worse, especially the new ones.

  “You shouldn’t leave your wounds uncovered,” she said.

  He spun around, his expression angry. “Why did you go after Ricardo instead of me?”

  “As I said, I hadn’t met you at that stage. I’d only seen you from a distance.”

  “If he wasn’t devoted to Bianca, would you still be going after him?”

  “No, he’s not interested in me.”

  “But you are in him.”

  “Not now. I’m fascinated with you; have been since that day you fucked me.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “At first I was struck by your beauty, then your personality made me angry. I wanted to hurt you after you took me roughly.”

  “I know. It’s why you’ve been rejecting me.”

  “I wouldn’t have rejected you if you’d been nicer to me. I can’t deal with any more drama. I need to concentrate on killing the Black Russian, not get distracted by all the angst you heap upon me.”

  “Then leave my room. I didn’t ask you to come here.”

  “I will after I bandage your back.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not; some of your wounds are weeping. Let me cover them.”

  “Why are you being nice? Because you’re not a nice person.”

  She grimaced. “Don’t test me, Brando.”

  He breathed out. “Just do what you want; you will anyway.” He opened a cupboard and pulled out some supplies, thrusting them into her arms.

  Ivy followed him into his room, watching as he laid down on his front, his perfect ass distracting her for a moment.

  He looked up. “Are you going to do something or just stare at my culo?”

  “God, you’re so bloody rude.”

  “You love to state the obvious, don’t you?”

  “Just shut up.”

  “Gag me.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She sat down next to him and placed the supplies beside her. “And you shouldn’t be so careless; your back could get infected.”

  “It’s clean,” he mumbled.

  “For now, but dirt can still get in.”

  He turned his head towards her, giving her a sneer. “Then you should bandage your mouth as well, because right now I’m thinking about sticking my dirty cock in it.”

  “Don’t give me attitude.”

  “I’ll say whatever the hell I like, brother fucker.”

  She smacked his ass hard.

  He jolted. “You didn’t just do that,” he said, turning onto his side.

  “And I’ll do it again if you keep being rude to me.”

  “If that’s supposed to be a deterrent you’ve failed miserably. I like my culo being smacked.” He rolled onto his stomach and wriggled his ass. “Hit it harder this time.”

  “Tempting, but I have to bandage your back,” she said, relieved his mood had lightened. “So, zip it.”

  “Again, you’ll have to gag me.”

  She removed the strips from a bandage and jammed it over his mouth.

  He ripped it off. “Your bedside manner sucks.”

  “It might literally suck later,” she teased.

  “Are you offering me a blowjob?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re only saying that because I found out you fucked my brother.”

  “I told you it was a misunderstanding and I thought I was forgiven.”

  “No, you’re still a brother fucker.”

  “And you’re still an asshole.”

  “Eat shit and die.” He turned his head away.

  Wondering why the hell she still liked the rude bastard, Ivy started bandaging his back, taking a few minutes to complete the task. She placed the final bandage above his ass, which had a couple of scars. She ran a finger over one of them, making him turn his head.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “You have a couple of scars on your ass.”

  “I already know that, and if you keep touching it I’ll be grabbing yours.”

  She retracted her hand. “When was the first time you had your back whipped?”

  “At seventeen,” he said, rolling onto his side again.

  “Why did you have it done?”

  He frowned. “Give me my kiss first.”

  “I thought you hated me.”

  “I hate what you did, but not you, so give me my kiss.”

  “Ask nicely.”

  “May I have a kiss on my lippy-lip-lips, your royal highness?”

  “Without the sarcasm.”

  He exhaled loudly. “May I have a kiss?”

  “That’s more like it.” She leaned over and kissed him.

  He grabbed her face, deepening the kiss. He let go a few seconds later, his golden eyes now troubled. “In answer to your question, I wanted to repulse someone so they wouldn’t fuck me.”

  Ivy went quiet, his answer saddening her. He dropped his gaze, looking like he was regretting telling her.

  “Who was it?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  He started picking at a thread on one of the bed sheets.

  “Did whipping yourself stop him?” she continued.

  Brando looked up. “Why do you think it was a him?”

  “You mentioned trying to stop someone from fucking you. I assumed it was a male.”

  He dropped his gaze again.

  “So, did the whipping stop the person?”

  “Sì, and you’re right, it was a man.” He turned his face away from her.

  She placed her hand under his chin, making him look at her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  He grimaced. “I have everything to be ashamed of, I allowed a man to fuck me.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it was consensual,” her eyes went to his back, “especially since you went to great lengths to repulse him.”

  “I still went back to him.”

  “Why?”

  “He threatened to have my mother killed if I didn’t. His brother was a hitman, he would’ve done it.”

  “Which means you didn’t think you had a choice. You sacrificed your own happiness to protect your mother.”

  “Don’t turn this into something noble, because there was nothing noble about what he did to me.” He shivered. “I remember every vile detail even though it happened seventeen years ago. I can’t forget.”

  “Is that why you still whip yourself?”

  “Partly, I’ve also become addicted to it. If anything goes wrong, even if it’s minor, it makes me feel better.”

  “Fighting makes me feel better. I spar with the Vipers when I need to forget.”

  “I do that too, just with my brothers, especially the twins.” He scratched his face. “They don’t hold back. We’ll fight until we can’t anymore. Sometimes I think I can replace the whipping with it, then something makes me feel dirty and I call my dominatrices.”

  She brushed her finger over a bandage. “What made you do this lot?”

  “Having sex with that woman at H20.”

  “Why did you do her, then?”

  “I wanted to rub it in your face for turning me down.”

  “You were the one who walked away from me.”

  “Because you refused to admit you wanted me. You fucked me off, and when that happens I get nasty.”

  “Same. I become an alpha bitch on steroids when someone upsets me.”

  A small smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah, you do.”

  She smacked his arm. “You were supposed to disagree!”

  A little laugh escaped his mouth. “That’s why we’re suited.”

  “Is
that so?”

  “Sì. We’re both plagues.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “That’s one thing that’s different between us: I’m honest.”

  “Ha! You lie all the time.”

  “I know, but I’m honest about it.”

  She laughed. “You really are funny.”

  “So, I’m gorgeous and funny.”

  “And incredibly vain.”

  “There’s a reason for that.” He indicted to his face and body. “I’m God’s gift to women.”

  She laughed again. “I like you when you’re like this.”

  “I like you all the time.” He placed a hand on her lap. “Come lie down. I want to sleep with you, and I don’t mean sex.”

  “Ah...”

  “I won’t do anything untoward, I promise.”

  “You’ve admitted to being a liar, proven it too.”

  “If it makes you feel safer, cuff my hands to the bed.” He tapped the bedside drawer. “There are some cuffs in there.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

  “Check if you don’t believe me.”

  She pulled open the drawer, finding a few pairs of cuffs.

  “Use the padded leather ones with the longer straps,” he said.

  Definitely game, she grabbed them. “Hold your hands out.”

  He held them out. She cuffed his wrists and attached them to the headboard, the straps giving him enough slack to get into a comfortable position, but not much else. She walked over to the light and switched it off, then climbed into bed next to him, seeing his outline in the darkness.

  “Good night, Brando,” she said, pulling the cover up.

  “Buona notte,” he replied.

  She closed her eyes, opening them when he spoke again.

  “One more thing,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You can touch me all you like during the night. Sweet dreams.”

  Smiling, she closed her eyes again, knowing she would ... have sweet dreams.

  25

  Ivy opened her eyes to a new day, finding a sleeping Brando next to her. His hands were still cuffed to the bed, although the bed sheet was only covering his legs, the rest of his body gloriously naked. Her eyes wandered over him, admiring his physique. He had clearly defined muscles, the man obviously working out a lot - not that she didn’t know that already. She’d seen him exercising in the gym as well as sparring with his brothers. They always got rough with each other, especially the twins, who were cheats, often ganging up on Brando. But he usually paid them back, using a mixture of fancy and dirty moves she’d never seen before. He fought like a street fighter who’d been trained in mixed martial arts, because he’d do anything to win. She smiled, remembering one of the twins hollering in pain after Brando had bit their arm to get out of a neck lock.