I slant my mouth across hers in a ferocious kiss, defying even the heavens themselves to tell me it’s wrong. My hands roam over her body, and then my tongue. She’s still so wet from her punishment and I taste her thoroughly, dipping into her sex with my tongue. Feeling how tight and hot she is. How ready.
“Branwen, baby, do you trust me?” I whisper between soft kisses on her pussy.
She nods, her gaze beseeching me. I spread her open wider and taste her again, her sweet, untouched sex. All mine.
“I don’t have any condoms. Guess we’re doing this the Catholic way.” Skin-on-skin, the way I want it. I sit up and plant my hands beside her head. She’s splayed beneath me, ready and waiting, and I’ve never seen such a goddamn beautiful sight.
Branwen traces the chain around my neck, and then lets her tentative fingers trail down my chest to my belly. She caresses my skin in little swirls, learning the feel of me, getting braver as she goes. I watch her, barely daring to breathe. She strokes lower until her hands touch my straining cock. Hesitantly, she strokes up and down, featherlight and cautious, her eyes flicking up to mine as if afraid she’s doing something wrong.
I close my eyes for a second and breathe hard. “Fuck, that’s torture, baby. Don’t stop.”
Reaching down between us, I caress her sex, and then dip into her with my middle finger like I did that first night, testing her tightness, imagining her grip in my cock. I’ll have to hurt her, but I know she’ll be brave for me, just as she has been every time I’ve inflicted pain on her. Because good things are always waiting on the other side.
I take my finger out and line up my cock against her sex. Branwen looks so smooth and fragile against my hard, hairy belly and jutting cock. The lamb lies down before the lion. I push into her just an inch, a small torture for me. I’m desperate to plunge into her greedily but I make myself wait. Branwen gazes up at me, trusting, her brow creased with just a hint of the pain that’s to come.
I cup her cheek and remember how she sucked my fingers that first night when she was down on her knees. She must have taken the Eucharist from her priest so many times, the wafer dissolving away to nothing on her tongue and the sweet release of love pouring through her. I push my thumb into her mouth and she sucks it hard.
Slowly but firmly, I thrust into her. She whimpers and her face creases in pain, and she sucks harder on my thumb.
“Good girl, Branwen.” I thrust again, and again, firm and deep. Her flesh grips mine like a vice and her tongue massages against the pad of my thumb, urging me on. I take it from her mouth and reach down between us, stroking over her clit. The last of the pain in her eyes gives way to pleasure.
“Such a pretty girl,” I murmur, fucking her steadily. I don’t ask for much, just the whole world in my hands. Beneath my body. Branwen looking back at me, her dark eyes filled with desire and submission. She makes little mewling sounds in her throat and clutches my wrist, grinding her hips against my hand and cock, edging herself closer to what she needs.
“Ready for more of me, baby?” I ask, and I plunge further until I’m balls-deep in her pink velvet. Fuck, she’s so perfect, taking every inch and wrapping her legs around me. I watch her tits quivering with every thrust. As she comes closer to the brink, she bites down on her plush lower lip.
Then it’s bursting through her, rocking her beautiful body and transforming her into something swan-like. Her pussy clenches hard on my cock, driving me into a wild frenzy. I want her to cry out, to shout, but even now she’s silent, her nails digging into my back instead.
I pull out right before I come, even as I can feel myself not wanting to. I want to make her mine, completely. My come spatters against her belly. Branwen trails her fingers through it, fascinated.
“You still hurt, babygirl?” I ask, noticing the smear of blood on my cock as I lie down beside her, but she shakes her head.
She lays in my arms, curled into my side like a kitten. I stroke her hair, thinking about the blood that’s going to be spilled tomorrow. There’s no way around it. I may have mourned him, but Trefor still needs to be avenged.
“I know what you want me to do. You want me to forgive your father because you’ve shown me how powerful forgiveness is. But this isn’t what’s happening here. You don’t forgive someone who murders your brother.”
She doesn’t shake her head or look anguished, but she does look afraid.
“I promise you one thing. This isn’t revenge now. It’s justice. Maybe not your justice, but it’s my justice.”
When I put a bullet in her daddy, it will be with a clear head and an open heart. I’ve already said goodbye to my brother. Now I just need to tie up the loose ends.
The problem is, I have no fucking idea how.
Branwen
“Will you be by my side as I do what I have to do?” Geraint asks me.
I trace the links of silver chain around his neck. What he has to do. Justice, not only for Trefor, but for Cora too. There’s nothing I want more than to be by his side forever, but first we have to do something that frightens me. I nod, because I know he’ll protect me, no matter how scary it gets.
“Good, baby. All the same, we need a plan to get into Avallonis and you won’t draw me that map. I’m not asking you too, either,” he says quickly, putting a finger over my lips, as if I’m going to speak up. “But I’d rather not walk up to the gates and get a fucking bullet in my head.”
I think for a moment, wondering how to get around the problem. Then I sit up and tap my chest.
Geraint’s eyebrows raise. “You have a plan?”
I sketch a sort of curtsy, spreading my arm and dipping my head.
“You? You’re the plan?”