Father (Blood Brotherhood 1)

“I can beat you and put you there.”

“You're not going to lay another fucking finger on me ever again.”

“That’s where you're wrong, Nina. You’re my ward. My responsibility. I have no intention of letting this astonishingly bad attitude fly.”

“You called my mom’s name!”

“Yes. A mistake. One that could have been made by anyone.”

“Jesus, do you really fucking believe that, you absolute psycho?”

He grabs me and throws me down on Jonah’s bed. I scramble to get up, but before I can, he has pinned me by the back of my neck and he is working his belt out of the loops of his pants so he can use it on me. My skirt has betrayed me by flying up when he tossed me down. I have no protection from him whatsoever…

SMACK!

I scream as the leather lashes against my cheeks, all the more sensitive for the fact that I recently came. Even a ruined orgasm makes me more vulnerable to punishment than I usually am.

“You are a spoiled little girl who knows nothing of pain or the truth of the world. Your brother has run away, and now I must punish you for your insolence.”

The belt cracks across my upturned ass harshly. Again. Again. Again.

Ten times it lands, ten harsh lashes. Every single one of them leaves a hot flash across my flesh that melds into the others and makes them all greater and more painful than any individual one of them could be.

He throws the belt down then, but he is not done with me. He pushes my thighs apart, holding me down for the next phase of my punishment.

“Nina,” he growls, saying my name as he plunges inside me. He is fucking me again, for the third time in less than a day. I ache, but in the best and most twisted way. Bryn causes me pain, but he never hurts me. Instead he makes my sore, well-fucked pussy melt for him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I curse against the bed. I am so sensitive, both in my pussy and across my ass. I feel every single thrust more intensely than before. Bryn is going to fuck the anger and the resentment out of me, and it is going to work. There is something about the way he handles me that makes me weak not only in the knees, but in the head.

I curse his name, but what does that matter when we are once more approaching rough orgasmic perfection? I know I should hate him. I think I do hate him. But I love my orgasms more. There are thousands of men in the world who could treat me better than Bryn. But there are none who could make me come as hard as he makes me come.

“Do you still feel as though I don’t know who you are?” He is lying beside me, holding me as I recover from a ravaging that has left me very sore, very tender, and very satisfied.

“You wouldn’t know me if you fell over me, if I didn’t have her face.”

He kisses me roughly, passionately, and completely, looking into my eyes with all that dark intensity. “Let me tell you what I know about you. You crave pain. You know you deserve it. You are guilty to your core. Ivy was pure and free of such burdens. But you have wasted your short life and now you find yourself as my ward.”

He’s right. Jonah and I have both wasted all the opportunities we've been given. Neither one of us attended college, though we both had college funds; instead, we decided to come over here and party through Europe. We were going to burn through our savings and see where the world took us. I guess this is where the world took us. Jonah is gone and I am being fucked by a man who is using me like a living cocksleeve.

Chapter Ten

Bryn

Saying Ivy’s name was an unfortunate faux pas. I hope to mask the unpleasantness with a revelation that I know will prove far more distracting, though probably far more disturbing to the poor waif.

Thrashing and fucking Nina only gets me so far. The girl has attitude to burn. It is almost as though in the absence of her brother, she takes on the role of being the petulant pain in the arse.

I have waited three days, enough time to make this believable. I must compose myself so I don’t come across too giddy or excited. This is supposed to be serious and sad. I go up to her room and knock on the door.

“What do you want?” She snipes the question at me with a petulant sneer. She’s not entirely forgiven me for calling her the wrong name during sex. I imagine it is ammunition she is going to hold onto for some time.

“I have some news. I’m afraid it’s not positive.”