Branded (Fall of Angels #1)

He stands tall and proud as I roll my hand along his veiny cock, which bursts with as much excitement as his eyes. I’ve never seen him this aroused, this eager to go beyond the limit.

And I’m not sure what I think about it myself because my clit is definitely thumping.

Fuck.

Why do I feel this way about a man I hate with all my guts?

I wanna kill him, yet I’m jerking him off instead.

None of this will free me. I can’t escape when he’s got his gun down my throat, and I can’t take it away from him either. He’d shoot me before I had the chance. Right?

He couldn’t before … but maybe I angered him enough and went too far with my scheme.

A bitterness flows over me like a wave ebbing the sand.

He deserves the worst, yet here I am, jacking him off.

The faster I go, the harder his dick becomes until he suddenly begins to groan.

And the sound alone makes my pussy wet.

Jesus, am I that easy?

Apparently.

Then again, I did this. I wanted to seduce him so I could distract him. I just never thought he’d take me up on the offer, or that he’d overtake me within a few seconds.

How did I lose control so easily?

I can’t even think straight right now with him moaning while he thrusts that gun into my mouth as if it’s his damn cock. And fuck me for even liking it a bit.

“That’s it … cupcake.”

Cupcake?

He’s never called me that. I’m offended yet weirdly blushing right now.

“Suck it off. Make me believe you want it,” he moans as I continue licking the gun like it’s his cock. We both know he’s imagining it, but I would never let him get away with that … not without stealing his gun and shooting him straight in the balls.

That’s what he deserves for murdering my brothers, after all. And he knows damn well.

That’s why he won’t even try. He’ll keep on making me suck this gun and rub his dick until he comes, and if I’m lucky, he’ll let me off without a scratch. If not, I’m in for a fucking treat.

Jesus, I wish I’d never even given him the idea, but it’s too late now, and it’s all my fault. That’s what you get for using your body as a tool to get what you want; some people don’t fall for the tricks. Brandon is one of them.

Still, he can’t take his eyes off me. He’s gazing at me with this deep, penetrating stare only he could give. It’s as if looking at me only intensifies his arousal. And mine. Fuck.

“Spread your legs for me, cupcake. Show me what you have.”

With his gun still in my mouth, I do what he says. I feel ashamed and defeated, but at the same time, I don’t wanna surrender. Not to him. The only reason I’m doing what he says is because I know there’s still a chance I could steal his gun. I just gotta hold out until the perfect moment arises.

Meanwhile, I focus on getting him to the edge. If he closes his eyes even for a second, I might have a chance. Though for now, they’re completely transfixed on me and my pussy. Just like I am on his dick.

We never saw each other naked when we were young. And now that I have, I’m not even sure I’m upset. My heart and mind loathe him, but my body … it doesn’t listen. It wants what it wants, and right now, my pussy wants to be touched. And all of this is confusing as fuck.

“Go on then … touch yourself,” he murmurs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if he’s already excited at the thought.

With one hand, I reach between my legs and start rubbing myself through the fabric. My other hand is still jerking him off slowly and steadily. Pre-cum drips down his length, and I use it as lube to coat his hard-on. He bites his lip and lets out a hiss in response to my touch.

I don’t take my eyes off his, not even for one second. I want him to see how much I loathe doing this, and that none of this was my idea. He should know what kind of monster he is for making someone do this, for putting someone through all this. And for making them enjoy it.

Fuck.

“You watched me, so now I’m going to watch you,” he says with a sultry voice. He pulls the gun from my mouth and uses it to gesture to me. “Take it off.”

He points at my pants.

Well, shit. I was hoping he’d be satisfied without having me strip. Guess not.

I carefully peel my button open and pull my zipper down under his watchful eye. Then I roll down my pants slowly, trying to keep my legs closed.

“Panties too,” he adds when I step out of my pants.

Well, fuck. He really wants to debase me. I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point because I know what he’s capable of. I just don’t know how far he’s willing to go.

I do know one thing: I’m not willing to risk losing part of my mouth or my legs to a gunshot wound, so I’ll opt for the humiliation instead.

I pull down my panties and step out of them.

He steps back a few times and smiles. “Now spread ’em.”

When I take too long to think about it, he says, “What do you wanna lose, pretty girl? Your life or your dignity? You choose.”

Defeated, I part my legs and let him see my pussy.

His eyes glimmer with something I’ve never seen. A kind of dirty, wicked lust with a rowdy grin attached too. The kind that sets my body on fire in ways I didn’t think were possible.

No. I have to ignore it. C’mon, Dixie, you can do this. Just think of him as a complete stranger instead of that boy you once wanted to kiss more than anything.

“Play with yourself,” he coaxes. “Go on.”

My heart thrums as I place my fingers on my thighs and slide inside. A hot flash travels through my body as I touch myself down there while he’s watching. Being completely naked makes me feel vulnerable, and the thrill stirs something inside me that feels wrong … but oh, so good too.

Brandon takes a few more steps back and sits down on the chair against the wall. He watches from afar with a provoking grin on his face. All while stroking his dick in full frontal view.

It’s as if he wants me to get excited.

No. I shouldn’t. It’s fucking wrong to even think about him that way.

So I close my eyes and focus on what I’m doing.

Clarissa Wild's books