Unforgettable: The Complete Series (A Sexy Cinderella Standalone Love Story)

by Nelle L'Amour

  “Who are you?” I gasp.

  “We’re your fairy godmothers,” says the slightly taller of the two. “I’m Jeffrey and this is my life partner, Chaz.”

  “Wow! I have two fairy godmothers?”

  “Double the pleasure. Double the fun,” they reply in unison.

  “Now, darling, dry your tears,” says Chaz. “It’s bad for your complexion.”

  “And you can’t go to the ball with red eyes,” chimes in Jeffrey.

  My eyes grow wide. “I’m going to the ball?”

  “That’s the goal here.” Chaz surveys me.

  I look down at my sweats and then back at Chaz. “But I have nothing to wear.”

  “No worries. I’m a fashion designer by day, a fairy godmother by night.”

  Jeffrey glances at his Mickey Mouse watch. “Oh dear, we’re going to have to work fast. Are you ready?”

  With a nod, I squeal out an eager “yes.”

  “Chaz, do you remember the incantation?” Jeffrey asks his partner.

  “Abracadabra?”

  Jeffrey rolls his eyes dismissively “No, honey, that’s so last year. It’s bippity-boppity-boo.”

  Chaz blushes. “Right.”

  I stand as still as a statue while the twosome recite the magic words and wave their glittery wands. On my next breath, I find myself shrouded in a cloud of sparkling fairy dust. And when the dust settles, I’m dressed in the most beautiful ball gown I’ve ever set eyes on. A sexy tulle and lace pouf in a color that’s reminiscent of Prince Brandon’s famous violet eyes. I gasp. “Oh my God, it’s beautiful!” Tears of joy spring to my eyes.

  Proud of their handiwork, my two fairy godmothers give me the once over.

  “We need to accessorize,” comments Jeffrey.

  “Totally.” Reciting another incantation, Chaz waves his magic wand. With a whoosh, he transforms my worn slippers into shimmering glass stilettos and my tears into a breathtaking pair of diamond teardrop earrings.

  “Come look at yourself, honey,” says Jeffrey. Taking me by the hand, he leads me to a floor-to-ceiling gold-leaf mirror. I gasp at my reflection. I hardly recognize myself. My hair is done up in a crown of dark curls, and I’m wearing a stunning spaghetti-strap dress that hugs all my curves and compliments my cleavage. I look like a princess! And then my heart sinks.

  “Fairy Godmothers, how am I going to get to the ball?” The thought of driving my little Mini-Cooper in this voluminous gown doesn’t sit well. Plus, I’m so anxious I’ll probably get into an accident. Or pee.

  “No worries. Where’s your car?” asks Jeffrey. “I’m an event planner by day. I’m a whiz at these things.”

  I tell him it’s in the driveway, and on my next inhale, the duo escorts me outside. Wagging his tail, Gooch trails behind us. Jeffrey waves his magic wand over the miniscule white car, and before my stunned eyes, it magically transforms into a majestic Rolls Royce. It’s fit for Hollywood royalty.

  “Oh my God,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s outrageous, but there’s no way I can drive that to the ball. I’ll crash it for sure.”

  “No worries.” Grinning, Jeffrey recites another incantation over panting Gooch, shrouding him in a pouf of fairy dust. My eyes grow wide again as the little dog magically transforms into an adorable shaggy, white-haired livery.

  “Meet your new driver.” Jeffrey beams.

  “Shall we, Madame?” says Gooch, gallantly opening the passenger door for me with a sweep of his arm.

  Pinch me. This can’t be real. I slip into the car as gracefully as I can while Gooch gets into the driver’s seat.

  “Get ready to par-tay,” chants Chaz.

  “Enjoy the ball,” chimes in Jeffrey. “But there’s one caveat. At the last stroke of midnight, our spell will be broken. The Rolls will turn back into a Mini, the driver back into a mutt, and you back to a simple servant girl.”

  A shiver skitters up my spine, but I’m still grateful for the incredible opportunity they’ve given me. “Fairy Godmothers! How can I ever thank you?”

  “Give us hugs and be off. Have fun!” replies Jeffrey with a smile.

  “Oh, and give the Prince a kiss from us,” adds in Chaz.

  In twenty short magical minutes, we pull up to the entrance of the Prince’s majestic palace. It looks just like the castle at Disneyland. The valets take the car and escort me to the ballroom. For the third time tonight, my eyes grow as wide as spinning saucers. It’s a veritable spectacle filled with the glitterati of Hollywood. All eyes are on me, but my eyes are on only one person. Heart-stoppingly beautiful Prince Brandon. Our eyes connect instantly. He meets me halfway on my walk down the red carpet until we’re a mere breath apart. His violet eyes sparkle while a dazzling smile curls on his lips.

  My heart flutters, my body trembles, and my legs go weak.

  “You’re beautiful,” he breathes against my neck. “What is your name?”

  “Zoella. But you can call me Zoey.” I’m tingling all over. Every fiber of my being is sparkling like fairy dust. For the first time in my life, I feel beautiful.

  “Zoey, may I please have this dance,” he asks me. It’s more of a command than a question.

  Before I can respond, a perturbed Katrina clamors up to us. “Brandon, you promised you’d dance with me!” She shoots me a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here look.

  Prince Brandon shoves her away. She lands hard on her bony ass at the feet of her nearby mother and shrieks.

  “Mommy, do something!”

  Her shrieks fade in the distance as Brandon sweeps me into his arms and waltzes me away.

  I’m his. Melting into him, I lose sight of everyone around me. My body follows his as if we’re sewn together. As if we’ve danced this way forever. He draws me in closer to him. His hard body brushes against my chest and his hard length against my center. My heartbeat accelerates and wetness beads between my legs.

  “C’mon, let’s blow this pop stand,” he whispers in my ear and then whisks me away.

  A few breaths later, we’re in his royal highness’s private chamber. Lit by candlelight, the cavernous room is dominated by a massive four-poster bed draped in violet satin and fit for a king. A tall grandfather clock sits in the corner. I can’t make out the time. I’m too distracted. Too caught up in the moment.

  Bathed in the glow of the amber light, Brandon holds me tightly in his arms. His soft lips kiss my neck, shoulders, arms, and face, touching every ounce of flesh they can latch onto.

  “Oh, Zoey,” he breathes against my neck. “From the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one.”

  My heart beating a mile a minute, my skin heating with fever, I lift my head and meet his smoldering gaze. Those violet eyes that dance with a glint of lust and love.

  “Oh, Brandon. I’ve dreamt about you forever.”

  Before I can say another word, his luscious mouth captures mine and he continues our erotic dance with his warm waltzing tongue. Each sensuous sweep takes me further to the edge until we’re entwined on a precipice. Fisting his silky hair, I deepen the kiss. I can’t get enough of him.

  Without losing contact with my mouth, he tugs at the back zipper of my gown, and glides the dress down my body until it puddles at my feet. To my shock, I’m totally bare and wonder if my fairy godmothers deliberately left out underwear. Pulling away from me, Brandon beholds me. I feel terribly naked and ashamed under his gaze, but his sincere words ease my discomfort.

  “Zoey, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined. A vision of womanly perfection.”

  While I tremble with rapture, his mouth repossesses mine with a fierce kiss and his hands coast from my ass to my tits, lingering on all my curves. Moaning into my mouth, he gropes my bare breasts. His thumbs rub my sensitive nipples and send a tingly rush of wetness to my sex. My hands move back to his head, but this time I cradle his gorgeous face between my fingers. Capturing one of my wrists, he places a hand between his thighs. His hot rigid length sears my palm. He’s as aroused as I am. I f
eel the fiery desire that’s consuming us both.

  “Oh, Zoey, you make me feel so good,” he breathes into my mouth, breaking the delicious kiss. His lips return to mine yet again before he rips off his clothes in a fit of passion. My fingernails dig deep into his heated flesh as he scoops me into his arms and lays me down on his regal bed. The sea of satin sheets feels cool against my flaming skin.

  He climbs onto the bed. Every inch of his virile magnificence makes my skin prickle. I’ve never set eyes on a man as beautiful as he is. And have never wanted anyone more. Straddling me, his muscled legs pressed against my hips, he trails hot kisses from the ticklish crook of my neck, all over my breasts, and then past my abdomen until his head is buried between my thighs. After an inhale, he kisses my delicate folds with urgency and reverence.

  “Oh, my sweet Zoey. You smell and taste divine. And you’re so hot and wet.”

  “Oh, Your Highness, My Lord! What you do to me!”

  “My beauty, I love that you call me Your Lord.” His hand caresses my fluttering sex, a thumb running over my quivering clit. I moan from the ecstasy he’s giving me.

  “I want to own you. Possess you. Treasure you. Rule you.”

  “My body is your kingdom,” I whisper.

  “Your wish is my command,” he hisses back. “What do you want, Zoey?”

  “I want you to ravage me.”

  “You want to be my princess?”

  “Oh yes, please.”

  “Please, what?”

  “My Lord! Oh My Lord!” My voice is a breathless, desperate plea.

  “Good girl.”

  On my next rapid heartbeat, he spreads my legs with his powerful knees.

  “Show me what you want, Zoey.”

  My hand trembling, I wrap my fingers around his pulsing girth and guide it to my ever-ready entrance. The very touch of him at my door to pleasure sends a ripple of white-hot desire to my core. I let out an audible gasp as he drives his magnificent cock inside me, one glorious inch after another. I groan at the size of him, stretching me apart, filling me beyond measure. I want him all.

  “Take me, My Lord,” I cry out with equal pain and pleasure.

  “You’re mine,” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you royally.” With a loud grunt, he pushes all the way into me until his shaft hits a spot that makes me wince from the impact.

  “Jesus, my love. You’re so fucking tight and wet. You’re pussy fits my cock better than a glove. Like a rare glass slipper…the perfect fit.”

  At his words, my muscles clench around his erection like a carnal hug.

  “Christ, you’re amazing,” he sighs before pulling away. A heartbeat later, he lunges right back into me, and I groan when he hits my womb.

  “Oh, Brandon, My Lord. Fuck me hard.”

  “How hard?” he taunts as he withdraws again. “This hard?” He rams into me with savage force.

  “Oh yes!”

  On my next heated breath, he pummels me with reckless abandon, rubbing along my clit and hitting my magic spot over and over. My body arches into him, and with each thrust, my moans grow louder.

  “I’ve never had anyone like you,” he mumbles breathlessly. “You feel so fucking good.”

  I’m speechless. I’m too consumed with the most indescribable feeling I’ve ever experienced, his body joined with mine, his cock filling me and taking me to a place where I’ve never been.

  He puts his hands under my ass, his firm grasp making me gasp again from the intensity and pure ecstasy of his thrusts. My legs wrap around his hips, wanting to hold on, wanting this to never end as an orgasm begins to crescendo inside me. I rock my hips to meet his thrusts, each breath, each thrust harsher than the one before. A symphony of our breaths, flesh against flesh, fills my ears.

  “You’re so damn sexy,” he pants out, picking up his pace and jamming me harder, as if harder is possible. “I can’t fucking get enough of you.”

  The pressure inside me is so intense I think I’m going to die. Fisting the satin sheets so tightly, my hands begin to ache. My desperation for a release overtakes me.

  “I need to come!” I scream out, ecstasy pulsating inside me.

  “Not yet, my love.”

  “Please, My Lord, I beg you!” I can no longer hang on.

  “No, Zoey. You will come when I say you can. I own you. Your orgasm is under my command.”

  I’m so close to coming. I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming. And squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Don’t hold back, Zoey. Open your eyes and let me hear you.”

  I do as I’m told. But as my eyes open and meet his impassioned gaze, the sound of a gong coming from the clock chimes in my ears. Gah! I’ve lost track of time. It must be going on midnight!

  “My Lord, I must go!” I panic as the gong sounds again and again.

  “No, Zoey, you can’t leave.” He grips my hips tightly, holding me prisoner. “You’re mine.”

  “I must!” I cry out, so close to combusting. I’m silently counting the gongs. Oh no, the clock’s on seven. I have only five seconds to escape. I can’t let him see me for who I really am.

  On the next powerful thrust and a pinch of my clit, I come with a cry of his name and a release so thunderous my whole body convulses. Gong! His cock shudders inside me with his own explosive release.

  “Fuck!” he roars before he slowly withdraws.

  The gong goes on ten. I only have two seconds.

  Frantically, I bolt up and shimmy into my gown. Still in my stilettos, I dash out of his chamber. I can hear rapid footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder. Wrapped in a satin sheet, he’s coming after me. I run like there’s no tomorrow through the ballroom of shocked onlookers until I’m out the palace doors.

  “Come back, Zoey!” Prince Brandon’s voice trails behind me.

  Thank God, the valets have left my Rolls Royce parked in the driveway in front of the palace. Gooch is in the driver’s seat waiting diligently for me. But as I approach the car, I trip. A glass slipper falls off. In a panic, I pick myself up, leaving it behind.

  Gong!

  It’s too late! I’m too late! Before my eyes, the Rolls transforms back to my Mini, and Gooch is once again a little fluffy white dog who’s looking out the window and wagging his tail at the sight of me. Back in my baggy sweats, I clamber into the car. I turn on the ignition, but the sedan won’t start up.

  Prince Brandon, with my glass slipper in one hand, runs up to me and tugs at the locked door. “Open up, Zoey. Let me in!”

  I can’t face him. Touch him. Bear the pain of my desire. Finally, the ignition catches. But Brandon is still clutching the handle of the door and banging on the window.

  “Brandon, please let go! Please! My Lord, I beg you!”

  “Zoey, if you leave me now, I will fuck every woman in the kingdom until I find my princess. My cock belongs in only one pussy. I’ll find you again. I will know when I slip it inside you. The girl who’s the perfect fit.”

  My core on fire and tears scorching my cheeks, I jam down on the gas and peel off the curb.

  Another loud bang brings my dream to a screeching halt. Tossing and turning, I’m drenched in a cold sweat. But between my thighs, I feel a hotbed of moisture and relentless throbbing. The banging persists.

  “Open the door, Zoey!”

  Is he still clinging to the car door? I’m dazed and disoriented. Lost in a gray space between dreamland and the real world.

  “Fucking open up!” The pounding grows louder.

  My Prince…he’s come for me.

  “Zoey, if you don’t open up, I’m going to knock down the door.”

  I blink several times while my heartbeat slows down. I glance at my cell phone. It’s midnight. I made it home in time! I’m still treading the fine line between reality and fantasy.

  The line fades and reality seeps into my veins. Fully awake, I realize I’m in my house—in the real Lalaland. I roll out of my bed, and after grabbing my robe, I stagger to the front door and unbo
lt it.

  It’s him! Brandon! A disheveled version of the gorgeous man I dressed earlier. His hair is unkempt, his eyes bloodshot, and his bow tie undone. I can smell alcohol on his breath. He may be more than a little drunk.

  “What do you want?” I ask, my voice shaky from my dream. Embarrassment mixes with anticipation. There’s a part of me that thinks he’s come here to sweep me off my feet and devour me. My wet dream is as vivid in my head as when I dreamt it.

  “You ate all my ice cream?” With each word, his voice rises with rage.

  “Yes,” I squeak. “There was only a little bit to begin with.”

  “But now, there’s none. And I’m starving. We’re going out to buy some.”

  “Now?”

  “Now. End of discussion.”

  My ego deflates like a balloon that’s been stuck by a pin. Who am I kidding? I’m no princess. I’m his personal assistant. His workhorse and slave.

  Ten minutes later, we’re at all-night “Rock ’n Roll” Ralph’s on Sunset, pushing a shopping cart through the packed supermarket’s freezer section. Though I’m dressed in my pajamas and he’s in his tux, no one so much as gives us a glance or a damn who he is. Everyone’s stoned or on some kind of high. Silence prevails. Still shaken from my dream, all I can think about is what would it be like to really fuck Brandon Fucking Taylor.

  I’m more and more convinced this man’s gone bi-polar. I mean, how can someone who’s just had the biggest and best moment of his life be in such a bad mood? He hasn’t said a word to me since rudely knocking at my door and waking me up. Seriously, if he doesn’t stop frowning, he’s going to get a permanent frown mark that won’t add anything to his character.

  “Are you happy now that you’ve got your ice cream?” I ask him, my voice thick with attitude.

  Wordlessly, he sits at the island in the kitchen and rips off the lid.

  “I’ll get you a bowl and spoon,” I say, heading toward the cabinets, “and then I’m going back to bed.”

  “Forget the bowl,” he growls. “Just get two spoons. We’ll eat the ice cream straight from the carton.”

  We’ll? I don’t think so.

  I fetch him a spoon and say goodnight as I pad toward the back door.