Beautiful Disaster (The Bet)

by Francette Phal

  He chuckled, his breath warm at her nape. "My cock, your cunt, perfect fucking fit." He laughed when she shuddered in his arms. "Where's your self-righteous anger now, babe?" he taunted, unzipping the front of his pants.

  "I may not know the meaning of love, Ellie, but I know the feelings I have for you are stronger than anything I have ever known. I can't seem to function unless I have you around me. Being around you has made me more human than all the passable fucks I've had in my life. So don't ever, ever think to demean my feelings for you. Because you can't even began to fathom how deep they run." He entered her then, one rough jerk of his hips and he was sheathed within Ellie's consuming heat.

  Like a stallion mounting his docile mare, Nicholas bent Ellie over and fucked her with enough force that stars danced in her vision. It was a tantric movement of two bodies moving simultaneously and yet Nicholas had all control. He wielded his power with the awesome strength of a man who knew the entirety of his lover's body. He knew where and when to rotate his hips to have Ellie groaning, he knew where and when to draw the spear of his tongue over her nape and down her spine to have Ellie pushing further back against him.

  Nicholas knew how fast or slow he needed to thrust in order to have Ellie's head snap back, her body arching like a well contented feline. His fingers dove through the tawny curls, tugging her up to meet his body. Back to chest, Nicholas cupped Ellie's chin and swallowed her moans, not faltering over the sweet rhythm they had going.

  It wasn't gentle. The moment Ellie believed Nicholas slowed down, his thrusts picked up a maddening pace, hard and fast and she bit down on her lips to prevent herself screaming out loud. It was animalistic rutting that differed on so many levels from all the other times they had made love. This was sexy, hot and sweaty, pleasure and pain all rolled into one. It was the kind of sex porn stars could only dream about having. It was the kind of sex that had your toes curling, your face flushed from exertion, and the strong urge to bite and be bitten. It was kinky, and it gave Ellie the biggest orgasm of her life.

  Nicholas caught her limp body, realizing that she'd fainted, he carried her to the bed. He dropped a kiss on Ellie's sweat matted head and made quick work of his shirt and slacks to join her. He spooned her to him, tight and snug against his own sweaty body and held her like life depended on it. And it did, he thought sadly as sleep came quick to claim him. Truly sleeping for the first time in weeks.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ronnie always had the habit of rising with the sun and Gabe's attempt to break her of the habit had yet to work. With the first rays of sunlight breaching the horizon, Ronnie slid out of bed taking care not to wake a snoring Gabe. Shrugging into her robe, she made her way out of the bedroom she now shared with Gabe.

  Doing what she did every time she spent the night, which had been quite frequent as of late, Ronnie snuck into Sophie's room to check on her. She was all things sweet and sound asleep, Ronnie had expected no less. Unable to resist temptation, she stooped low and kissed her cheek before turning away, heading to Ellie's room.

  The young mother and her daughter had managed to wedge themselves in Ronnie's heart when she wasn't looking and now she couldn't help but love them with the same unrelenting intensity she felt for their guardian. With a smile, Ronnie entered Ellie's room, glad that it wasn't locked.

  The first thing Ronnie noticed was the distinct smell of sex in the room and her gaze instantly flew to the bed. And it was probably a good thing Gabe wasn't awake yet, otherwise he would've gotten an eyeful of both his goddaughter and her very naked, semi-aroused boyfriend, who had a possessive arm slung across Ellie's abdomen.

  "Ooh..." there really wasn't anything else to be said.

  They really were quiet striking together, a painter's dream come to life. Caramel mocha, contrasted against pale gold skin in a tangle of limbs. Their faces peaceful and infinitely soft in slumber looked contented…satiated. Ronnie's cheeks flamed, knowing exactly the activity that could bring about such blissful expressions.

  She glanced further up the bed and gasped as she was met sleepy, hooded dark grey eyes. Nicholas pressed a finger to his lips and mouthed. "Get out." Before turning the whole of his attention back to a sleeping Ellie.

  Completely stunned and not in a right state of mind to object, Ronnie dazedly exited Ellie's room and made her way back to Gabe's room. Knowing if the raven haired man saw what she just did, he would probably bring down the house around them. Ronnie wanted to prevent that from happening. But she and Nicholas would certainly be having a few words before the day was out, of that Ronnie was sure.

  Barely nineteen years old and already Nicholas felt as though he'd lived multiple lifetimes in a span of several months. The entirety of said life was a compilation of fuck ups and regrets that were now coming back to bite him in the ass. Karma as they said was a bitch and she was having a glorified bitch-fest on his behalf. Or maybe his ill-gotten luck stemmed from the curse of being born from a man whose Machiavellian ideals he feared were slowly rubbing off on him.

  Either way Nicholas knew life had become quite complicated and all around ridiculous as of late and with each passing second he feared the inevitability of drowning in a cesspool of his own cynicism. A cynicism that began far too early in life and was now spreading through his being like a cancer destroying whatever good remained. He no longer knew how to stop it and did he have the knowledge, Nicholas knew he would've chucked it out the window and said ‘fuck it'.

  Asphyxiating in this mire was something he was enjoying immensely. He was having far too much fun wallowing in anger and self-pity to want to come back up for air. He looked around him as he brought the shot glass to his lips. Scantily clad women grinded and gyrated to the ‘fuck me' song emitting from the bone thumping subwoofers surrounding the club. Like aficionados of some ancient Greek deity participating in orgy, they danced inhibitions away in a flurry of pheromone induced binge. They were the same people, the same type of boarding school/ ivy leaguers who were frequenters of this underground establishment.

  Nicholas knew many. He had fucked many. Bred from money and infused with the innate knowledge that money and familial ties could get you anywhere in life, these people used that simple fact to their advantage and did whatever the hell they wanted. Mommy and Daddy would no doubt handle the repercussions. Right now Nicholas felt more at home here with them, than around a certain biracial girl he was determined to binge out of his system. Here, among the pretentiously rich he could be exactly what he had fought so hard against becoming.

  Nicholas Grayson. Scion to the master of iniquity and degradation. It was a title he would one day bear. Why not start sashaying the honor now? Dad would no doubt be proud.

  Here, Nicky, the pussy ass bitch he had turned into was locked somewhere far, far away in a dark room, no doubt pining after his lover. In his place was the doppelganger Nicholas Grayson, son to Charles Grayson, flagrant asshole and CEO of vise. Vise. Nicholas had several. Drinking....drinking was something he excelled at. Bourbon, scotch, rum, Hennessey, vodka---excellent educators who never failed in teaching him lifelong lessons.

  His favorite one? When mixing vodkas and hard liquor, never, ever do so while under the influence of recreational drugs. The results could really fuck you up. Like now for example, Nicholas knew he was more than likely fucked up when he saw someone who looked suspiciously like the lover he was miserably failing in forgetting, heading his way. Leather clad hips swaying in that way that only a woman could make look undoubtedly sexy.

  The resemblance was uncanny. The hair was the same, tawny curls framed her face in that 'just thoroughly fucked' look that Nicholas always prided himself on putting there. The facial structure was the same, oval face, short nose, and cupid arrow shaped lips. Same stature, rounded shoulders, dancer arms, with curves in all the right places that had Nicholas's cock straining at half-mast in his jeans.

  She drew closer and came to a hesitant stop before him. Through a veil of thick sable lashes, she coyly looked at Nicho
las.

  The eyes were not the same. Nicholas couldn't decide whether it was disappointment or relief he felt.

  "Wanna dance?" Beneath the fast-paced show of flamboyant laser lights and Nicholas's inebriated mind, Ellie's look-alike painted an alluring picture with her blue contact eyes.

  "No," He tossed back the shot, jumped off the seat and grabbed her wrist. "I wanna fuck." Vise number two? Sex. In piss scented bathrooms, against the darkened corners of the club or in the backseat of his car. A blow job here, a hard fuck there, it didn't much matter so as long as he got off and Nicholas always got off. Fuck it if his partner did or didn't.

  Nicholas was hell-bent on destroying whatever happiness he had remaining. His relationship with Ellie was something he was forcing down the drain. He knew this and he didn't care---tried not to care.

  He took the look alike in the back alley. Nothing was too good for Ellie's doppelganger. Her mouth wasn't as impressive as Ellie's however. Her cunt wasn't the same either and instead of the tight compression of heat his dick had anticipated, Nicholas was sorely disappointed to find that he was fucking a pussy that felt as though an ocean liner had cruised through it.

  Sickness gripped him then and he managed to pull out just in time to empty his stomach near the rusty trash cans a few feet away from where they had rutted moments ago. The fetid stench of waste brought on a second bout of chunk infested bile that had his eyes watering.

  "Shit, you okay?"

  "Fuck off." He brusquely shrugged off the hand that settled on his shoulder as another wave of nausea overtook him. As though trying to purge his core of everything Nicholas was feeling, his stomach clenched, fluttered and lurched as he continued to spew out his guts.

  Ah, what a great way to cap off his night, Nicholas thought despairingly, straightening to full height an eternity later. He brought the back of his hand to his lips and wiped as he clinically assessed the nervous Ellie look-alike with the wrong eyes.

  Beneath the harsh orangey yellow tint of the streetlight, Nicholas was able to make out the carefully hidden blemishes that would've went a long way in fooling many---had managed to fool him for a bit. But no matter how much eyeliner and makeup smeared on that face, nothing could hide the awful stench of a two dollar whore. This woman reeked of it and suddenly Nicholas couldn't help the humorless mirth that bubbled deep in his chest. The laugh was on the brink of maniacal, it was a harsh laughter that hurt far more than it pleased.

  "Tell my father I appreciate the sentiments, but maybe next time I suggest he sends a whore who hasn't been fucked by the entire city. The effect would've been far more damaging." Feeling incredibly disgusted with himself and life itself, Nicholas did not permit the floundering strumpet a word in edgewise as he walked away. Suddenly the need for a scalding shower and a warm bed seemed incredibly appealing.

  A hangover greeted Nicholas the following morning, a norm in the last few weeks of his nightly excursion. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, nature summoned and so he headed to the bathroom. Bladder emptied, Nicholas showered, brushed his teeth and patted downstairs in search of Aspirin and a cold glass of OJ. A morning ritual he was beginning to despise. There were many things in his life Nicholas was beginning to despise he was at the top of that list.

  Ah well, at least he was getting closer in becoming his father. Scary as it was, Nicholas was tired of fighting destiny. Who was he to fight something so innate?

  He'd fought being like his father for years and what exactly had that gotten him? Self-loathing? Misery? An incredibly fucked up life? Ding. Ding. Ding. As the saying went “if you can't beat them..."

  Entering the kitchen, Nicholas stopped short at sight of his uncle and mother seated around the kitchen island, their hushed conversation coming to a halt as Terran became aware of his presence. It was strange seeing his uncle in the cabin. Sure the man owned it, but Terran had never bothered to visit since Nicholas began to inhabit it. When he was in need of him, Terran would always call him to the manor. Nicholas figured it had something to do with his deceased aunt and the memories that undoubtedly came with being in the cabin.

  Terran nodded subtly in greeting as Nicholas made his way to the sub-zero fridge, feeling his mother's gaze at his back the entire time. Nicholas knew the tension in the room made his mother uncomfortable and he took a sick sort of pleasure from that knowledge as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. Grabbing the bottle of Aspirin from the countertop, he downed four white pills before chasing it down with the juice.

  Setting the glass back down, Nicholas observed his mother from the corner of his eye. She looked as she always did, all but a little tired around the eyes. Nicholas could understand her fatigue, he was feeling rather peaked himself.

  "Good morning, Nicholas," She addressed softly. " How are you feeling?"

  Silence was her answer as Nicholas continued to stare. He hadn't seen her since the funeral, and all her attempts in consoling him were either ignored or rebuffed. He didn't need anything from her.

  His daughter---Nicholas jammed his fingers through his shaggy mane.

  'Fuck,' he inwardly cursed. He had been doing well too. And now, thanks to his mother, thoughts of Isabella pushed to the forefront of his mind and not too far behind Ellie Holbrook clamored for attention. He scowled and aimed it at his mother.

  Sonya tried not to flinch as her husband's gaze embodied itself through the stone grey eyes of her son. Those eyes were as hypnotizing as a cobra's stare and just as deadly. Hatred for her husband couldn't have been more profound as it was now. Because of him---it was all because of him.

  "Say hello to your mother, Nicholas."

  "Hello mother." His smile was not quite in reaching his eyes. "'I'm as well as to be expected given that I've lost my child. And you, how is Jean-Paul treating you these days? Or is it Paolo, now?" His question was meant to be insulting and Sonya believed he had all rights, but it nevertheless still pained her to be spoken to in such a way.

  "I'm sorry about…"

  "Not as sorry as I am mother," he tipped the glass to his lips, took a small sip before continuing. "Please spare me the sentiments."

  Sonya looked away then, eyes suddenly dampening, unable to take Nicholas's cold gaze any longer.

  "Your father's mask does not become you, Nicholas." Terran reproached with a scowl.

  Nicholas settled his glass down. "Yes I am aware of that, but fear not uncle I am in works of refining it."

  "Your father is a monster, Nicholas, do not think for a moment that he is the sort of person you want to emulate." The caution in Terran's voice was lost on Nicholas.

  "Be that as it may, Terran he is a powerful monster whose empire I will inherit in less than four years. His power is something I have found myself coveting these past weeks." He said this as if discussing the weather, although the significance of those words had Terran scrutinizing his young charge. "That sort of power can move mountains." And I will have that power, the unsaid words hung in the air.

  "I've never known you to be so jaded."

  Nicholas shrugged noncommittally. "It's a newly acquired skill."

  "That sort of power corrupts." Sonya said quietly.

  Nicholas turned a deprecating smile to his mother. "I am no virgin to corruption mother. I've lived the entirety of my life in it. What can a little more do? It isn't as if I had anyone to teach me better." The last statement did as expected and Sonya noticeably flinched.

  "Don't turn into your father, Nicholas. As Terran said, he is a monster who deserves to be locked away from proper society. He has done many things, many horrible sordid things that will make you---"She brought a hand to her mouth to keep the tears at bay.

  "Your father's perversion has possibly given us a way to destroy him." Terran said gravely, a firm believer in directness. His nephew was no longer a child who needed to be nurtured and coddled, if he was old enough to sire a child of his own, than Terran believed him old enough to take part in the grave discussion that would sentence his father to
life behind bars.

  After his meeting with Lancaster Teegs, a longtime friend of Terran's and a highly respected judge, Terran knew the probability of finally seeking vengeance and justice for all the wrongs Charles had committed, was extremely high. They had stockpiled a variety of evidence that were so damning Terran knew that even the attorneys Charles kept on short diamond studded leashes could not get the bastard out of this. And if the evidence weren't enough the testimonies of past victims and witnesses would be their trump card.

  Interest suddenly peeked Nicholas permitted Terran to elaborate. He listened as his uncle recounted the events that had led to his mother now taking refuge in the manor. They showed him the condemning evidence as Sonya quietly spoke her piece. Hands helpless held before her, she told her son of years of oppression she had had to live under Charles's unrelenting thumb. She told him of the stipulations she had to adhere to in order to keep them both safe.

  "---I was scared, Nicholas. I have been a prisoner of my fear for so long now. I do not wish to live in fear of your father any longer."

  So this was what it felt like to be cast in a state of complete numbness, Nicholas silently thought as he looked down at the pictures in his hand, the little few Terran had kept from the police in order to show him. He knew he should have felt something. Maybe shock? Or even a little sympathy for the woman who had given him birth? She had after all gone through earth's version of hell just so he could escape Charles tyranny. That had to garner some form of sympathy, right?

  Wrong. He was numb. There wasn't anything there. Nicholas felt absolutely nothing---except for maybe the sick sense of joy in knowing that what was once his father's would soon be his. He could practically taste the power that would come from being the sole owner of an empire.