Branded

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Branded Page 25

by Scarlett Finn


  Nya didn’t like hearing it skitter across the surface and fall onto the floor. “You probably just broke that,” she said, but he grabbed her other wrist and opened her arms wide, forcing her body to his for a second before whirling her around to walk her toward the bed.

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” he said. “You’ll need one anyway, I don’t want old boyfriends calling you.”

  “You’ve got a real hard-on for my exes,” she said, the open bedroom curtains fluttered over their extended hands.

  “Nah, Squirm, that’s all for you.”

  Shunting her onto the bed, he stood over her. “Play,” he ordered.

  “What?” she asked, heat flicking her cheeks.

  “I want to watch you finger yourself.”

  He had a real thing for watching. “Why should I do it myself when you can do it for me?”

  “Have you done it in front of another guy?” he asked, she shook her head. “How old were you when you started taking the pill?”

  “Fifteen,” she answered.

  “You taken it ever since?” She nodded. “Ever used any other forms of birth control?”

  “Condoms,” she said, sitting up to unbuckle his belt.

  “How many guys have you been with?” he asked, grabbing a handful of her hair to pull her back so he could look her in the eye.

  “None, I’m a virgin,” she said and his glare grew cold. Unbuttoning his jeans, she tugged them down to his thighs and found he was wearing no underwear. That was less interesting than the tempting liquid glistening at the tip of his impressive cock. Extending her tongue to a point, she sampled it. “Is this for me or do the questions turn you on?”

  “Both,” he said. “I didn’t know how hot it would be to learn everything about you. How many, Squirm?”

  “Five,” she said. Sass could be fun, but if she wanted arousing, all she had to do was surrender to his command. Her center began to swell and tingle, excitement sparked up into her belly and the breasts she’d stimulated earlier sought his attention.

  “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Sixteen,” she said.

  “How long were you with him?”

  “Three years.”

  This quick-fire interrogation was making her pant. Stroking her hands over his hips, she rubbed them around to his ass, down the back of his thighs to the sheath always attached to his belt. She’d forgotten it was there until her fingertips made contact and when they did, the urge to pull out the blade overwhelmed her. Intrigue made her tug his knife free from its secure lodging.

  “You said a boyfriend hit you, who was that?”

  Turning the blade in the light, she was transfixed by the beauty. “The worst was Damien,” she replied.

  “What happened to him?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Tag got me out; I stayed with him for months after. He never told me what happened to Damien and I didn’t ask.”

  Bringing the blade closer, she touched its cool, flat side to her breast, but he seized her wrist to pull it away. “That’s sharp.”

  “I know,” she said, it wasn’t the same one he’d branded her with, but it was the one he’d used to scar Bryant. “That mark you left on Bryant, you’ve practiced it?”

  “I leave it on everyone I confront with my blade.”

  “You didn’t leave it on me,” she said, blinking up at him.

  Sinking to his haunches, he closed his fist around the hand she held the handle of his knife in and raised it to kiss her branded wrist. “My blades exist to protect you now; they’ll never harm you again.”

  With their hands still united around the knife handle, she slanted forward to capture his mouth. Archer was dangerous with a weapon and without. But there was something seductive about the power in such a simple object, maybe because he knew how to wield it so well.

  Her slim fingers were squashed between the solid shaft of the handle and his broad, proficient digits. Despite her being between him and his weapon of protection, he wasn’t fighting her for it.

  Because he’d put the suggestion into her head, she allowed her fingers to trail from the bed to the apex of her thighs. While his tongue tangled in hers, she spread her legs and pressed a finger to her clit.

  The odd sensation of being kissed while massaging her own clit in an act she usually partook in alone, didn’t breed embarrassment as she thought it would. Something about enjoying the private intimacy made her feel vulnerable. Being able to be so open and weak in his company took their trust to a level so intense that it scared her.

  “Wait, stop,” she said, thrusting a hand to his shoulder. They hadn’t been doing anything except kissing, she wasn’t even sure if he knew she’d been touching herself, but her heart was racing so fast, she couldn’t breathe.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, tightening his hold to prevent her from letting go of the knife.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to his lips to stop his questions. Except he parted them and took her fingers inside his mouth. When he registered her taste, passion flamed in his gaze and he exuded a primal growl of satisfaction. “How can I trust you this much?”

  The level of desire and emotion that this man churned up had the power to consume her. Touching herself in front of any other boyfriend would’ve turned her off, but Archer wanted the complete package, wanted to learn about her in every state, even her most private.

  He liberated her hand. “Maybe ‘cause we both know that I had the chance to ruin you and I was too weak to take it.

  “Not weak,” she said, touching his face. “You still have that power, but it doesn’t scare me.”

  “Then why did you stop?” he asked, lowering her hand down to her crotch.

  “Because I scare myself, it’s not like me to be so drawn to a guy, especially one like you… I’m falling hard.”

  “That’s right where I want you,” he said and eased her onto her back with one hand.

  Loosening her grip on the knife, he directed her hand to her breast then sank back to his crouch, licking her fingertips on the way. He kissed her knee and moved her hand to her pubis.

  “Play,” he muttered, resting his lips on her knee again.

  Sliding her fingers up and down, she found a rhythm that made her knees bend and as her toes curled into the blanket, she let her legs fall wide.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  His shoulders pressured the inside of her thighs and he directed her fingers down to push them into her opening. “You,” she whispered. “What it feels like when you push your dick into me. Your body, what it does to me when I see your muscles move, when you touch me, when you kiss me…”

  “When I do this?” he asked and his mouth closed around her clit, he sucked hard and flicked it with his tongue.

  “Yes,” she whimpered then cried out when he did it again. “Yes!”

  Her fingers slid free of her passage, but he caught her hand and urged them back in. “Keep doing it,” he said, working her in and out of herself. “That’s hot, Squirm, I like it.”

  With his hold on her pumping her fingers, he paid her clit special attention until she yelped and reared up. “Oh, God, Fella, no more!”

  Sated and exhausted, her body became boneless. That was when he appeared on top of her and with a fist around his dick, began to guide himself inside. At that first hint of his attempt to moor, fresh energy infused her and she hooked her legs around his hips.

  Her climax had prepared her for him and he slid in deep with one smooth advance.

  His hair fell over his brow as he worked his hips faster and she lifted her hand to reach it when he drove a hand under her pelvis to tilt it. The extreme angle made his head hit her g-spot and she screamed.

  No man had ever touched her there and she’d never sought it herself. The intensity of pleasure it delivered made her struggle to breathe.

  “Oh! Arch! Fella! It’s… too much!”

  A short reprieve
came when he pulled out to roll her to her stomach. Yanking up her hips, he came into her from behind. With her ass in the air and her face buried in the bed, she opened her mouth and dug her teeth into the comforter to muffle a scream.

  From her hips, his hands leapt to her shoulders and he propelled himself into her so hard, he hit her limit. Surging onto her hands, Nya screamed in unison with his guttural growl when they collided in orgasm together.

  Still on her hands and knees with him behind her, she was panting and searching for something to say when there was a knock on her front door.

  Startled upright, her back bounced on his chest and he threw a strong forearm around her waist to balance them both high on their knees. “Who the fuck could that be?” she whispered, in case they chose not to answer it.

  “Forgot to say, your boyfriend’s coming over.” He kissed the groove where her neck met her shoulder and jumped off the bed to grab his jeans. “Toss some clothes on, Squirm. Don’t want your boyfriend to know I’ve been handling your goods.”

  twenty-four

  Bare-chested and with nothing on his feet, Archer was still buckling his jeans as he hopped across the room to open the front door. Nya scarcely had the chance to scramble off the bed to snatch his tee shirt before he was opening it. In true Archer style, he anticipated her need for time and didn’t let their visitors in straight away.

  She pulled the tee shirt over her head and leapt to her feet. His seed was still warm and wet inside her. The bed was a mess. The stench of sex permeated the air and she had no way to ventilate the room, so there was no denying what they’d just done. The only part of the skylight that opened was in the bathroom and even that had to be done with a long hook-ended pole kept in there, hardly subtle.

  Hunting in her top drawer for panties, she leapt into the first pair she found and had just pulled them over her knees when Archer opened the door and Tag came in with Gio behind him.

  “We’ve got company, honey!” Archer called out with a hint of condescension in his voice, not aimed at her but at the men he’d just invited inside.

  It was ridiculous to presume she wouldn’t have known people had arrived when the whole apartment was so tiny. The knock would’ve been heard in every corner. The fact that it had also taken them time to answer the door indicated that they may have had a conversation before Archer got to answering it.

  Fumbling her fingers through her hair, Nya knew she had no hope of taming it. When she bent to straighten out the bed she nicked her fingertip on the blade lost in the sheets. Hissing at the pain, she took the growing bud of blood to her lips.

  They’d been lucky the knife hadn’t sliced them during their frantic movement on the mattress while they screwed. Grabbing it up, she guessed that the sheath was still on his belt, and he didn’t like being unarmed, although Tag would be no threat to their safety so he shouldn’t need a weapon. Still, returning it gave her an excuse to join the men.

  Choosing not to leave them alone any longer than she had to, she passed through the bedroom curtains and pulled them down to conceal the bedroom, though the attempt to cover up what they’d been doing was pathetic. From Tag’s glare, she knew he knew exactly what had been happening before he knocked on that door.

  Gio looked no friendlier. But Archer seemed relaxed, with a wide stance and his arms folded, there was almost a smile on his face. Whatever he was playing at, it looked like he’d succeeded in his goal, and she wondered at exactly what had been said during his and Tag’s phone conversation.

  It hadn’t slipped his mind that Tag was coming over, he’d chosen not to tell her and she’d guess he orchestrated this to play out exactly as he wanted it to. Which was why she didn’t loosen her scowl when he glanced at her.

  “Hi,” she said, flashing a smile at Tag and Gio as they went into her living room to seat themselves on the couch that stood in front of the curtain that concealed the bedroom.

  “What took you so long to answer the door? What the fuck were you doing?” Gio barked.

  “Enjoying my Cheerios,” Archer said. But when Tag and Gio sought out a bowl, or other evidence of cereal, there was none.

  Even if they had just eaten cereal, the bowl would be gone by now anyway, Archer was too meticulous about tidying up to leave dirty plates lying around. But the lack of one contradicted his story.

  Still sucking on her finger, she snuck around Archer after he noticed the knife she was carrying. For a second she thought about his trust at letting her stand behind him with this slick blade that she could easily slide into his back. But she’d had it in her hand while her face was level with his dick, a guy would probably consider that a greater display of trust than this.

  Grabbing the horizontal sheath attached to his belt, she made sure the blade was in its slot before she gave it a hard shove to lodge it in its secure pouch. Archer smiled at her over his shoulder and reached around to grab her hand.

  “Thanks, Squirm,” he said, elevating her finger to examine her wound.

  Suspicious of his motive and his mood, she stayed wary. “Don’t mention it.”

  “You’ll think twice before you start the knife play next time,” he murmured, kissing her injury then sucking her bleeding fingertip into his mouth to salve it with his tongue.

  “You take his knives to bed?” Gio asked, Tag’s lips pursed tighter. “Isn’t that all kinds of crazy? Figured he should be smarter than that, thought he was supposed to be some kind of pro.”

  She popped out from behind Archer, but he didn’t relinquish his hold. “If he wasn’t, I’d have a lot more wounds,” she said. Trying not to share her suspicion with the room, she changed the subject. “Do you guys want a drink?”

  “No,” Tag said, snapping the word. “Archer told me he’d made progress, I’m here to find out what it is.”

  “Progress?” she asked.

  To get away from the tantalizing motion of her man’s tongue running around her finger, she yanked her hand free and went over to sit on the coffee table in front of Tag.

  Archer took a chair from the kitchen table and turned it around as he brought it over, then dropped down to sit astride it, angled toward the couch. Between her need for sleep and their sex just now, she hadn’t had time to find out what had happened last night.

  “I may have figured something out that will save your ass,” Archer said, tilting his head to scratch his ear before he folded both forearms along the back of the chair. “Hexam doesn’t want money and he doesn’t need your professional services. He sure doesn’t want you involved in his operation… obviously, ‘cause you’re a fuckwit.”

  “Ah!” Nya said, raising a pointed finger to each of the men. “We’re on the same side, no jibes, Fella. And Tag, don’t forget you need to know what Archer knows.”

  Though Tag’s cheeks puffed a little as he ground his teeth, he eventually exhaled and forced a smile. “What does that leave?” he asked. “This is your great plan? How can I pay off a man who has no use for me?”

  “He has a use,” Archer said. “A personal one.”

  “Personal?” Nya asked, not sure that she liked the concept of Tag being personally involved with a guy like Hexam.

  “He has a personal problem.”

  Again, Archer wasn’t looking at her, he rarely did when business was being discussed. He would answer her if she asked a question, it wasn’t like he ignored her, but he did have a habit of focusing on the men, rather than addressing her direct.

  “What?” Tag asked.

  “Hexam has a sister,” Archer said. “A beautiful one, young and naïve, but vivacious. He’s kept Farrah protected for years. Their parents were killed when they were kids, he’s always cared for her.”

  Relations in the room were already strained and introducing more attitude didn’t help. “What’s that got to do with us?” Gio asked.

  “It’s got fuck all to do with you,” Archer said, displaying no patience with Tag’s number two. “There’s a guy in her life, Hexam doesn’t trust him, t
hinks he’s only interested in infiltrating the operation and is bad for his baby sister. Hexam wants rid.”

  Dread began to increase. “Rid?” Nya asked. “I thought you said he didn’t order hits.”

  “He doesn’t want him dead,” Archer said, then conceded. “Well, he probably does, but that’s not what he’s asking you to do. See, if Farrah knows her brother’s involved, she’ll rebel. She’s got that Modern Woman Syndrome, thinks she knows better than the men in her life.”

  Nya’s mouth opened to argue, but Archer winked at her and she lost her bluster.

  “Hexam doesn’t want to be pushed out of Farrah’s life,” Gio said.

  Archer bobbed his head in a loose nod. “Right. He has to be more subtle about booting this guy to the curb and that means letting her think it’s her idea. Best way to do that, is to introduce other options. Scaring him under the radar, you know, bar brawl gone wrong, didn’t work. And if any of his own guys make a move on her it will be obvious what they’re doing.”

  These guys were willing to go to any lengths to get what they wanted and seemed to be experts at considering contingencies and outcomes. Manipulation upon manipulation. Annoyance made Nya curl her fingers tight around the edge of the coffee table.

  She growled out frustration. “This is so typical of men. This girl has made a choice about who she wants to be with, what gives him the right to screw with her relationship?”

  “We don’t give a fuck,” Archer said. “ ‘Cause this is your way out. Your only way. Seduce the sister away from the boyfriend and Hexam will forgive everything. If you fail, it’s over.”

  Tag sat back and raised both hands over his head to drape them over the back of the couch. “I’m supposed to screw his little sister and that will make everything better?”

  Archer’s slow blink was unimpressed. “I don’t think the point is to screw her. I think the point is to seduce her,” he said. “There’s a difference.”

  Nya frowned again. Yes, Archer was definitely in condescending mode. She scoffed. “Not with you there isn’t, Fella,” she said, only half teasing.

 

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