Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) (21 page)

As I rummaged through my assortment of clothing, I wondered what my colleagues would think if I brought them here. The deviant ones were aware of my proclivities as they, too, shared in their own debauchery. But I meant, the holier-than-thou crowd. They were the ones who not only supported my reform on prostitution, but gave generously to the cause. Little did they know, I thoroughly and utterly enjoyed beating such girls. While the thought brought on a fierce arousal, I turned to the man I often shared pleasures with.

“Tonight you will only watch. If you masturbate, I will whip you. Are we clear? Speak, now,” I commanded.

“Yes, Mr. R,” he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes as he bowed his head in deference.

By the way he stood there; I knew this night was going to be a twofer. Holy hell, I was going to come. I quickly brought my baser self under control and slid on a pair of leather pants. There was no need to bother with a shirt, for I knew my body was well defined. Since I waxed all body hair, they especially loved to touch. I put on the leather mask and gloves to insure there would be no DNA left on her body. Doubtful that my prostitute would live through the events about to unfold, most just couldn’t handle my ways of seduction. But every now and then, I found one who could. And, oh, the fun we had. Matter of fact, afterwards, those specific whores searched for a repeat session. Joe always shared the finite details of his performances with them long after I had finished. He had informed me that they always requested Mr. R’s return.
Naughty sluts.
Before the real entertainment could begin, I was going to have to get off—judging by the weight of my erection. As I adjusted, over my shoulder I called, “Stay in the suit. Make it look like you might rescue her.”

“I hope she begs for it.” He licked his lips methodically. “Love watching them realize I’m not here for that.”

Had I mentioned his depravity? It was why we worked so well together. I winked as we entered the main warehouse.

Show time.

*****

My God, she was exquisite. After I had worked her over for three hours, she was still cognitive. “Please,” she lustfully begged, “I need more of you.”

With a low and deep chuckle, I queried, “How do you need me, baby?” I stroked her sweat covered hair away from her big, gorgeous hazel eyes.

She looked up at me through hooded lids. “Use the whip.”

“Now, now, beauty.” I cupped her perky, lacerated breasts to make a point. “Your body can’t handle that, again.”

She whispered, “May I lean into you?”

I gave her the go ahead with a nod. As her slick, warm body cradled into mine, I couldn’t resist holding her. Which made no sense—usually after four releases, I was beyond spent. But there was
something
about her that drew me in. Images of her writhing beneath me flooded my vision. Abnormal. Never had I fucked one of
my
girls. The thrill, the high, came from full control of them. The knowledge I could do whatever my heart desired to their bodies, and they could do
nothing
to stop me. Which was why, I kept them restrained in the shackles and chains hanging from the steel beam above. Not her. I had even lost the mask and gloves about an hour or so ago.
Why was that?

I purred in her ear, “Tell me your name.”

“Marissa,” she panted.

“Lovely name for such a breathtaking woman,” I complimented.

When her cheeks flushed, I swatted her ass, hard. As she bit her lip to keep from crying out, I growled, “If I pay you adoration, you will not ever blush.”

She lowered her eyes and waited for my permission to reply.
Yes, I like that.
“Good girl.” I patted the top of her head. “You may speak.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she declared.

“If it does, I’ll have to spank you with something other than my hand.”

At that, her breathing increased. And the smell of her arousal hit my nostrils. Yes, I would have this one for a while. She certainly was not leaving here tonight—
maybe not ever
. I was beginning to think Joe, Viviane, and I had just brought on a new partner. As if the thought brought Joe back to consciousness, he moaned deeply. We watched his swollen, bruised body as he came fully back online. When he searched my face, I commanded, “Go.” Once he stood, I grabbed a towel and threw it at him. “Clean yourself up. Rest. I have no more use for you this evening.”

Without a reverential response, he lumbered to the locker room. This time, I would forgive the error. Matter of fact, a reward was necessary. He had truly outdone himself. From the selection of Marissa, to his stamina through the lashing I gave him. The man was spectacular in his demonstration of male restraint. Slowly, I escorted my girl over to the table. As I bound each wrist and ankle with the leather cuffs, she bled. I licked each and every droplet before I stepped back to admire her spread eagle form. Yes, time to really work her over. Hopeful she would survive it, I set the clamps to her most obvious erogenous zones.

For some unknown reason, about halfway through my paces with her, I stopped. There were spots where she was bleeding profusely, which brought on an unnamed emotion. I shook my head to clear it and began to nurse her wounds. Bizarre. I’m not a caring man. Cold, dangerous, violent, but never one to give a damn about anything or anyone except myself and how another person could benefit me. I released her bonds and slowly eased her into my arms. What was it about
her
that brought out a side I never knew I had? I leaned in to suck on her split lip and then released it, but never pulled away from her face. I whispered, “You’re incredible, Marissa.”

She blinked several times in rapid succession and replied, “I still want you.”

When her brows furrowed, I could see the confusion in her eyes. Yes, it was a bit disconcerting to yearn for the one who had only brought you extreme pain. Yet I understood the longing completely, even though I had been the one to torture her for almost five hours straight. I began to care for the wounds that were open and stated, “We need to be careful. You don’t want an infection.”

As if she comprehended what I had just alluded to, she glanced down at the torn, raw flesh of her womanhood. How pretty it was now that it was free from all the pesky pubic hair. I licked my lips at the memory of the straight edged blade I’d used. When I swiped the towel between her legs, she arched into my hand.

“You
are
horny,” I uttered as I rubbed her clit with terrycloth. A vision of a piercing through the hood had me adjusting myself. Definitely happening next time. What the hell?! Not only was I planning on fucking her in the next few minutes, but apparently there would be another round. I wondered why that was.

All thoughts disappeared when she moaned, “Can I come now?”

“No,” I barked.

There was no reply from her. She just laid there and patiently waited. I would have tested her. But, at the moment, I wanted to bury myself deep inside that stunning cunt. Once I stripped off my leathers, I mounted her quickly and surged forward with enough power to move her to the front edge of the table. Damn, she was tight. You would have thought that impossible with the trade she was in. As her inner muscles squeezed tight, I began to pound mercilessly. She latched her legs around my waist and held on for the ride. Wasn’t long before I came, and she surprised me by following suit.
Finally, I’ve met my match.
Wait! Where did that thought come from?

Our gazes locked while I tried to regain some composure. I had lost all sense of her. Myself. The whole situation at hand. And when she pulled me against her, I knew it wasn’t going to happen any time soon. As her hands moved down to my ass, I was undone. We began again, although this time slow and easy. I should’ve been scared shitless by that, but, somehow, it just felt too damn good to fret about. There would be plenty of time to figure out the details. Later.

I released on an “ah, fuck,” as I bent to take her mouth with mine.

Afterwards, I pulled out of her body and stood. When I walked over to grab another towel, I tossed it to her and declared, “You’re not leaving. Ever.”

She held my gaze and vowed, “Never.”

With that I left the warehouse, only one thought raced through my mind:
I now have my partner.

A tiny voice responded, “What will you do with me?”

I sank down on my haunches in the locker room. What was I going to do about Rachel? Aimee? Nik? Not to mention my pastime, which I truly did not want to give up. Was Marissa worth it? Only time would tell. And fortunately, there was plenty to go around.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Aimee

“Mom, this is amazing,” I gushed as I took in the surroundings from every angle.

The church I grew up in was filled with lavender, hydrangeas, freesia, and purple roses. The pièce de résistance was the altar draped in silvery-white gossamer accentuated with two large, pewter and crystal candelabras on either side of the ornate Bible. Still, I was in awe of how she and her friends had turned the simple, quaint sanctuary into something otherworldly. The guilt began to overwhelm me as the little voice in my head reminded me,
this isn’t a true marriage.
Not to mention the shame that went with the fact, I had
sold
my body for money. I bowed my head and stepped away from everyone.

In a small, silent corner I sank down to my knees, having a moment of reflection. Could I really go through with this? I knew my parents would never have the 411 on my past, or how Nik and I ended up together. Part of me felt awful for the prevarication, yet what other choice was there? While I sat in a place where truth, grace, and forgiveness should overflow, I wanted to retch. Lies. And I was trapped with no way out. All of a sudden, a quote from Sir Walter Scott came to mind. “Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive!” And didn’t that just sum it up, right there. Renée placed her hand on my shoulder; meanwhile, I was mentally kicking myself in the butt.

“You have a visitor,” she announced.

As I wiped the tears from my cheeks, I glanced across the room. There—taking up almost every inch of the threshold, with a bouquet of yellow roses in hand—stood Nik. What a sight. A tingle of warmth began to blossom deep in my belly. His rugged, masculine beauty took my breath away. He narrowed his eyes and strode towards me. I rose to my feet and greeted, “Hey.”

Once we were toe to toe, he tilted his head to the side and reached up to capture a tear that escaped. “What’s wrong, Aimee?” he asked with deep consternation etched in his face.

I shook my head and lowered my eyes. He wasn’t tolerating my obvious attempt at hiding. Gently he lifted my chin with his forefinger, and our gazes locked. “Talk to me, please.”

Before I could answer, my mother approached. I half-smiled at him and then grasped the hand on my face. I turned us towards Mom and introduced them. Nik was so gracious with her, handing the bouquet over, which caused her to flush. At that moment my dad walked in. When he reached us, he wrapped an arm around my mom’s shoulders and jokingly queried, “Now, how did you know my wife’s favorite flowers?”

Nik cleared his throat and stammered, “I…uh…had no idea, s-sir.”

Never would I have imagined such a powerful man struggling for words. Somehow, it made him more approachable. Let’s face it; his size alone was a helluva intimidation. Therefore, witnessing his very normal reaction to meeting my father for the first time, made me love him just a little bit more. Did I just say love?
Gee, shocker.
Time to be honest, with at least myself; I was falling in love with him. Scratch that. I am in love with him. Annnnd didn’t that just fan the flames more. While I was actually marrying him for the right reasons, I knew it wasn’t reciprocated. Subtext: This was the real source of my previous mendacity. My biggest fabrication was, he thought I would only go through with it for protection. What a farce. Somewhere, in midst of this mess, I had developed very deep feelings for this wounded, yet honorable man. Go fig.

While I came back from my reverie, my dad said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nik.”

As the men shook hands, my mom smiled, “If you gentlemen will please excuse us.”

I squeezed Nik’s hand and began to step away. He tugged me into him and hugged me hard. Then he leaned into my ear and whispered, “I’ll see you soon, sweet Aimee.”

I blinked several times in an attempt to get my bearings. That was so unlike him. As I pulled out of his embrace, I called, “See you at dinner,” over my shoulder.

He flashed a genuine smile, and my step faltered. It was enough to make a woman weak in the knees. Realization hit, staying out of his bed tonight would test my self-control in more ways than one. For some reason, I wanted to follow tradition. How sappy. All too aware of his effect on me, he winked. OMG, I wanted him.
Right here. Right now.
I walked outside with my mother and Renée reluctantly. All the while I fought the compelling urge to march back inside and demand he take me. Phew! This was going to be one looooong night.

Mom turned towards me in the parking lot. “Oh my!” She fanned herself for emphasis. “That is one massive hunk you have there, Aimee.”

I attempted to suppress my giggle—and failed miserably, I might add—and confirmed, “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

Renée chimed in, “Girl, please. He’s a major hottie. And you know it.”

I blushed furiously and bowed my head. Then added, “Hard to believe he really wants to marry me.” Uh-oh, that was a little too close to the truth for my comfort. Although my bestie understood completely, my mom was in the dark. And there was no way, unfortunately, I could shed any light. It was for her well-being, as well as protection, if she never knew the ins and outs of Nik’s and my relationship. Gah, I abhor falsity. Yet in my heart of hearts, I knew there were no other options. All of a sudden my blood ran cold; I wrapped my arms around my torso tightly.

Of course, Mom didn’t miss it. “Are you chilly, hon?”