Page 7 of Taking Over the Dark
I question him, “And what about your family?”
“I’ve been done with them for a long time, but all of this has truly opened my eyes. I don’t trust them and never want to be associated with them ever again.” It sounds like he’s been thinking about this for a lot longer than just today.
“I hope you know you’re selling your soul to the Devil with this little show you’re putting on, Prifti.” I don’t know who he’s trying to convince with this, but having my brand on his body… I will own him from here on out.
And why does my heart rate speed up at the thought of that? The ownership, that’s why.
?*“Over my heart.” He pulls his shirt over his head and rubs an alcohol pad over the area to clean it off. One thing with brands is that you donotwant them getting infected. “Each of you owns a section of my heart, and I’m over fighting it. I know Ellie is your world, Marcello, but they’re both the axis I spin around. And I hate to break it to you, but you’re also becoming very important to me. I don’t want any of you ever questioning my loyalty or intentions with you all.” The sincere tone he’s speaking in, all while still prepping everything, shows me he really means what he’s saying. Everything he’s expressingis flowing off the tongue with complete sincerity. There’s no way he’s coming up with lies this easily.
But truly, you never know someone…
“Are you ready, Zamir?” I lock my eyes on his to make sure he truly wants this.
Those green pools of his drift over to the red glowing brand, and he stares at it for a beat. Finally answering me, he says, “Mark me. Make me yours. All of yours.”
Fuck… why did my cock just twitch?
Grabbing the branding iron, I appreciate the heavy metal with the glowing red emblem, and at this moment, it feels different. Normally I bask in the weight of the brand and the pain I know I’m about to be inflicting on my normal piece of shit victims.
But Zamir isn’t a piece of shit.
He’s the complete opposite. He knew his father was, and still is, wrapped up in bad shit, so he separated himself from his own blood and made something of his name outside of that blood. And when it’s from a family with no morals, that’ll usually get you silenced one way or another.
“Do I need to tie you down? I don’t want my brand being fucked up on this pretty skin of yours.”
“Careful, Cello… you didn’t like my reaction to you earlier. You’ll be quick to learn I like pain and can handle it. That is, unless you want to see me tied up.” He gives me a sly smile, and I have to beg my cock not to react.
“What you need is a goddamn muzzle,” I mumble as I approach him. He backs up until his back hits the wall. I have the brand down by my feet, careful not to let it touch the ground or anywhere on Zamir. I lean into the side of his face, growling, “I didn’t say I didn’t like your reaction. It just wasn’t the time for it.” With my free hand, I wrap my hand around his throat, putting pressure on each side, blocking the much-needed bloodflow. He’s watching my face, so I tease him, “The desperate slut likes his oxygen robbed from him, doesn’t he?”
Tilting my head to the side to look down, I spot the erection in his joggers, clear as day. It’s mirroring mine. Our cocks are practically begging to rub up against one another… but now is not the time. I drag my hand from his neck down his chest, then to his stomach. He sucks in a quick breath when I don’t stop and move past his waistline, gripping his heavy cock and balls in my hand. I grit out, “You ready?”
He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, and I take a step back, pulling the glowing brand up in front of us. That sobers him up real quick. He nods again, places his hands down by his sides, then murmurs, “Do it.”
I line up the brand right over his left peck, ensuring it’s straight, then begin counting down, “Three, two, one…” Pressing the brand into his skin, I hold it there for the second it needs before pulling it away. He didn’t even make the smallest whimper. No one I’ve ever branded has taken it that well.
“Fuck! That hurts!”
“You didn’t even flinch when the brand was on you?”
“That would’ve fucked it up… and it’s more painful now. The adrenaline that was coursing through me before it happened, that keeps the pain receptors at bay.” He’s not wrong there, but I’m still staring at him, bewildered.
* Divide - The Plot in You
* DEMON TIME - Chase Atlantic
SEVEN
NASH
My shoulders are on fire, my head is pulsing, and there are voices in the distance, yelling.
I’ve heard these voices around my dad before. Maybe it’s his friends over, and they’ve once again had way too much to drink.
But why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck?
Cracking my eyes open, I quickly realize I’m hanging from a ceiling by my wrists.
“Hayden! Up and at ‘em, pretty boy,” the shorter man in front of me says, smacking my cheek a couple of times. Way too hard, might I add.