Filthy Beast (Filthy Fairy Tales #1)

by Vanessa Booke

  His erection presses into my hip, and I rub against it, shamelessly teasing him. He groans deep in his throat, breaking away from my mouth.

  “Fucking tease,” he rasps.

  “Serves you right for leaving me the other night.”

  His blue eyes flash with amusement.

  “You left me thinking you didn’t want me.”

  “Does it feel like I don’t want you?” he says, pressing his hips up.

  “How would I know?” I tease, reaching down between us and squeezing his shaft through his jeans. “This little guy doesn’t tell me anything.”

  He growls, kissing me again. “You have a very smart mouth,” he whispers. “I’d like to fuck it.”

  A moan slips out of my throat almost without my permission, and my mouth waters at the thought of his hard cock on my tongue. He slaps my ass, hard enough that I whimper in pleasure.

  “Come here,” he demands rolling me underneath him. His eyes drop to my breasts. “First, let's take that top off.”

  I glare at him. “Who says I want to fuck you?”

  He winces slightly, but only for a moment. A second later, he’s pushing my knees apart, sliding a hand up my inner thigh slowly, hiking my skirt up as he goes. I bite my lip to keep from moaning. God, his hands feel so good on my skin. He reaches the edge of my panties and runs a hand over my pussy, pushing the damp fabric up into my crease. His finger grazes over my clit, and I gasp.

  “This says you want to fuck me,” he rumbles, moving the cotton aside and running his hands through my lips. He pulls his hand out abruptly, holding it up and showing me his fingers. I moan as I watch him take his fingers between his lips, sucking them clean.

  “Delicious.”

  Stupid, traitorous pussy. I can’t deny that my body wants him. And my mind is quickly catching up. I’m close to caving. What if someone hears us? Despite being so big, this house does nothing for muffling sound. I frown at the thought of what Adele would think of me.

  “Adele....”

  “She won’t hear us,” he says, nipping my lower lip, smiling softly.

  I close my eyes. I want him.

  His hand caresses my thigh again, and my eyes snap to his. His blue gaze is hooded and hazy, lust etched into the very lines of his face. His rock-hard cock is pressing into my hip, urgent and insistent. He wants me just as much, if not more than I want him.

  “Olivia,” he growls. “Do I need to rip your clothes off?”

  That would be hot. I bite my lip, and he groans. I lift my hips, shifting myself until I’m straddling him. My dress gets pushed up to my waist, and I rock myself against him slowly, teasing us both through the layers of fabric separating our bare skin. I lock eyes with him, and the intensity in those beautiful blue orbs sends shivers up my spine.

  He pulls me closer, wrapping his thick arms around me and burying his face in my hair. “You smell so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck. “Like springtime and happiness.”

  I laugh.

  He pulls back to look at me, and the look on my face must amuse him because he smiles. The sight of it stops my laugh in its tracks. My mouth hangs open, and my eyes widen. Holy shit. Declan is hot when he’s brooding. His frown turn me on in a way I’ve never experienced before. And yes, I admit, when he growls and scowls and shouts at me, my underwear all but melts off me. But when he smiles? He looks lighter, younger. His smile is a bit lopsided because of the scars on the right side of his face, but it only makes it look sexier. It’s mischievous and playful.

  He falters. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Do...” he blows out a breath, “does my smile look that bad?”

  My brow furrows. “Have you not seen yourself smile since this happened?” I ask, lightly rubbing my fingertips over his cheek.

  He frowns. “I haven’t had a reason to smile since this happened,” he said. “Not since you.” His eyes are sad as he looks up at me.

  I kiss him softly. “Your smile is beautiful,” I whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

  He looks over my shoulder, staring without seeing. “Used to be.”

  I grab his chin, turning him to look at me again. “Are,” I correct him, my tone firm. “This,” I tell him, cupping his damaged cheek in my hand, “This is just something that happened to you.” I shake my head. “It’s not who you are.”

  His eyes close for a moment. When he opens them again, he looks fearful. “Olivia,” he rasps. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what happened. How stupid I was.”

  I brush my lips against his. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He shakes his head, his expression stubborn. “You can’t say that. You don’t know.”

  I run my hands through his hair. “Then tell me.”

  So he does. He tells me about the man he used to be. Selfish. Hedonistic. Careless. He tells me about the crash, describing things in as much detail as he can, given he was nearly blackout drunk at the time. I run my hands over his face, caressing his skin—damaged and whole alike—as he tells me about the worst day of his life.

  When he’s done, he lets out a shaky breath. His eyes are wounded, scarred almost more than his face, as he looks up at me.

  “How can you still be sitting here? How are you still touching me? Looking at me like that?”

  I kiss his forehead. “You know what I got from that story?”

  His brows knit together, and he looks down at our laps. His hard-on has flagged, but I suspect that’s the last thing on his mind right now.

  “That I’m a worthless excuse for a human being?”

  I shake my head gently. “No. That you’ve suffered enough.”

  He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat like he wants to cry, but he’s holding himself back. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  I circle my arms around his neck, rubbing the nape of his neck gently. “You did something stupid, yes. You made a mistake. But that’s all. No one was hurt but you, right?” He nods. “Then maybe it’s time to forgive yourself. Because this,” I lay a hand on his cheek. “And this,” I put my other hand on his chest, laying it over his heart. “This is more than enough punishment, Declan.”

  He stares at me for so long that I think he won’t answer. Finally, he nods, slowly. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” He kisses me softly. “You’re right.” He kisses me again, and then again, whispering, “You’re right,” over and over.

  Eventually, the kisses change, deepening. His hands travel down my back to my ass, and he squeezes my cheeks gently. I moan into his mouth, and just like that, I’m wet again. His cock thickens against my thigh, straining the worn denim of his jeans. I rub myself against him again, seeking friction to relieve the ache building at my core.

  He breaks the kiss, cupping my face in his hands once more. “Olivia,” he moans. “I need you."

  14

  DECLAN

  She stares at me, her eyes hooded and fuzzy with lust. Mine are staring at the corners of her mouth as they turn into a wicked grin. Something tells me her imagination is going wild.

  “Need me or want me?” she asks.

  I kiss her jaw lightly. “What difference does it make?”

  “I’m just wondering if I should repay you for the way you left me the other night. I smile, pulling her closer to me. She’s flush against my chest now, her stiff nipples pressing into me through the layers of fabric separating our skin, and I groan.

  “What should my punishment be?” I growl. “Ten lashes of the tongue?”

  “I never took you for a kinkster.”

  “Everyone has a little kink in them.”

  She leans in, and our mouths fuse together again. And I’m in heaven. She gives as good as she gets, pushing back against my lips and tongue. I could kiss this woman again and again and not get tired of it. Her hands wander down between us, and she pulls at the hem of my shirt. Her nails scratch lightly against my stomach, and my hips buck. Fuck. The feel of her hands on me is better than I imagined. It feels like every nerv
e in my body is calling out to her, begging for more. I feel alive, electric, for the first time in years. Possibly ever.

  Reluctantly, I break the kiss to pull my shirt over my head. Her gaze drops to my naked torso, her beautiful hazel eyes eating me up. I welcome her look despite the shame I feel when her hands run over my puckered skin. I tip her chin up to look at my face, kissing her softly.

  “Take your top off.” My tone is quiet and commanding, and her eyes darken as she reaches to the hem of her blouse, pulling it up and over her head.

  She’s wearing a light pink bra, embroidered lace with a little bow in the middle. My breath hitches when I realize she has freckles on her tits. I never thought I’d find that attractive, but she’s so goddamn perfect I can’t imagine them any other way. I’m tempted to press kisses across them.

  I groan, and my hands twitch as if they can’t decide what to touch first. Everything. I want to feel everything.

  When I look up, I realize she’s watching me, biting her lip almost nervously. I pull her into me for a kiss, deep and sweet. She tastes like peppermints, with something sweet underneath, something uniquely her.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” I tell her.

  She smiles, radiance lighting up her entire face. “So are you,” she whispers, running her hands over my scarred skin.

  And when she looks at me like that, like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen, I actually start to believe her. I lean forward, placing a kiss to the swell of her breast, and she throws her head back with a gasp. I trail kisses in the crook of her neck, lingering when she sighs in pleasure or moans. She’s so vocal, and I fucking love it. Her bra comes off next, and her full tits spilling out over the tops of my fingers. She moans as I take one of them into my mouth, tugging it between my teeth. I lick and suck on her, running my hands all over her soft skin. I’m so ready to come all over her that I force myself to slow down, to take this all in, and to enjoy every second I get to touch her because it isn’t often I get to touch women like Olivia.

  “Declan,” she gasps.

  Goddamn. I love the way she says my name like that, breathing it out like a plea. I look up at her, my mouth still on her breast. Her head is tilted back, her fingers tangled in my hair. I mentally add licking her neck to the list of things I want to do to her.

  “I need you inside me.”

  My arms tighten around her, and I pull away from her nipple with a little pop. I’m torn. I’m dying to bury myself in her. I have been for days, but she deserves better than a quick fuck. I want to make her come more than just once. I want to hear her scream as I ram my cock inside her, filling every inch. She whimpers, whether frustrated or impatient, I couldn’t say. Either way, she takes the decision out of my hands by taking me in hers. She unzips my jeans, pulling me out and running her hand up and down my shaft.

  My head hits the back of the bed, and I let out a long, pained groan. Her hand is so small and so soft, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to blow if she keeps this up. Her nails lightly scrape me with each downward stroke, and yeah, okay. That. It’s killing me. I’m going to fucking die.

  She shifts her hips up, moving her underwear off. And then she slowly sinks down onto me.

  No, I take that back. Now I’m going to die. And I’m not even a little sad about it. Death by Olivia’s pussy. Yeah, I’ll take it. I tip my head back up, locking her eyes with mine. She’s fucking glowing. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are bright, and her skin looks luminescent in the afternoon sun filtering in from the wall of windows behind me. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

  She rocks her hips, lifting a few inches and sinking back down slowly. The pace is torturous, but I don’t think I would have it any other way. I want to prolong this feeling, the divine experience of being inside Olivia. She is so tight and slick, her pussy clenching around me as she slides up and down.

  “So good,” she breathes, leaning forward to kiss me.

  I lean my forehead against hers, pushing my hips up to meet her. I squeeze her deliciously plump ass in my palms. Goddamn, she is so perfect, so hot, and so wet for me. Hotter than anything I’ve ever felt. It takes me a moment, but I realize, with a dawning sense of horror, why she feels so hot. I freeze, clamping my hands down on her hips to stop her movements, too.

  She pulls her shoulders back, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  I tip my head back again, staring at the ceiling. “Condom.” God, I’m so fucking stupid. As much of a man whore as I used to be, I’ve never made this mistake before. I’ve never been so caught up with lust and need that I forgot the most basic part of sex—always suit up first.

  She grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her again. “Hey.” Much to my surprise, she’s smiling. “It’s fine.”

  I shake my head stubbornly. “No.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  She sighs and leans in for a kiss. “I have an IUD. I’m clean.” She raises her eyebrows.

  I close my eyes. “I’m clean, too. I’ve never—” I blow out a breath. “I’ve never had sex without a condom. And I get tested.” I frown. “I did get tested. I mean— Fuck. I haven’t done this in a long time,” I admit, my face reddening.

  She smiles again. “It’s been a while for me, too.”

  “You trust me that much?” I ask, my voice full of awe. She didn’t even hesitate when she took me inside her.

  She kisses me again, her tongue delving deep, and I groan, my hands slackening on her hips. She begins to move again, increasing her pace.

  She breaks the kiss, leaning back to cup my face in her hands. “Yes, Declan. I trust you. I trust you implicitly.”

  I grab her, turning us so that she’s laid out on her back. I push my jeans down further and cover her with my body, pushing my cock back into her. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” I growl. “To deserve you.” I pump into her, faster and faster, and she gasps. “But I’ll try to earn you.”

  She slides her hands in my hair. Her fingers tighten around the locks, bringing my head down to her.

  “You don’t have to do anything, you stubborn man.”

  I huff out a laugh, and she smiles.

  “Just be yourself,” she says.

  I kiss her again, over and over, as I stroke in and out. She locks her legs around my waist, pushing her hips up to meet me. I drop onto one elbow, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  “You are so beautiful,” I tell her again. Her hazel eyes are huge as she looks up at me, whimpering with every panted breath. “So perfect, Olivia.”

  Her hands rake my back, her nails scratching, as she pulls me closer. My pubic bone rubs against hers, and she cries out. “Oh God!” Her pussy spasms around me, and I clench my teeth.

  “That’s it,” I growl, snaking my other hand down between us. I press my thumb to her clit, and she lets out a low, husky moan. “Come for me,” I demand.

  And she does. She screams out my name, her pussy squeezing my cock in a tight embrace. Her orgasm seems to go on and on, her voice growing hoarse as she moans long and loud.

  I pound into her as lightning races up my spine, and I feel my balls draw up tight. “I’m going to come,” I warn her.

  She digs her fingers into my scalp, locking eyes with me. “Give it to me.”

  And that’s enough to push me over the edge. My hips still, my cock pulsing deep inside her as I shoot three, four, five times. I groan, collapsing on top of her. I’ve never felt so spent after sex. I barely even have enough brainpower to worry that I’m crushing her.

  “Fuck,” I breathe.

  Underneath me, she giggles as she pushes me. I pick my head up, looking at her. Her cheeks are red, her face sweaty, her hair disheveled. She has the look of a well-fucked woman, and I grin in satisfaction.

  I could look at her like this all day, every day. The thought scares the shit out of me, but it also just feels right. I can’t put my finger on why, but I know this is where I’m supposed to be. I kiss her deeply, feeling overcome with a sense of
belonging. Maybe, after all these years, I’ve finally found the one woman I could have my happily ever after with.

  15

  OLIVIA

  My days are growing shorter here.

  I haven’t actually stopped to think, in the few weeks that I’ve been here in Vegas, how I’d eventually have to leave. As soon as Declan’s book is finished, it’s back to New York for me. Back to my crappy boss, and my crappy apartment with people I don’t even like. When I left the city, I never expected my life would change so dramatically. I was excited to meet Declan Hart, but I didn’t know he would fit into my life like a missing puzzle piece. Would I have come all this way if I had known? I’ve led an almost dreamlike life here with him. Sure, the first few weeks weren’t exactly what I had expected. He fit the nickname Adele and Louis had given him, but now...well, now, I’m not so sure anymore.

  I’m truly happy here, for the first time in a very long time, I feel comfortable. Even the problems that won’t go away, like my dad’s health, seem more manageable with Declan by my side. I know it won’t last. It can’t. At some point, we’re going to have to say goodbye. I’ll have to go back to the city and live my life without him. And he’ll have to live his life without me, too. And that thought affects me more than I care to admit.

  I’ve been here three weeks now, but it feels longer.

  Declan’s been sleeping in my bed every night. We make love until we’re exhausted, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms, only to wake up the next morning to do it all over again. I’ve never had this before, this feeling like we can’t keep our hands off each other, can’t get enough of each other. We’re both insatiable, kissing and touching, licking and nipping. Fucking until we collapse. Every time it feels like I discover something new, something that drives him wild, makes his eyes darken, makes him tremble.

  He’s never more than ten feet from me. He eats his meals with me, goes swimming with me in the saltwater pool, and takes walks around the garden with me. We talk about everything and nothing, savoring that heady rush of getting to know each other by inches. He’s even taken to working in the living room now so that he can ask me questions and have me review his progress. And the novel is progressing very well so far.