Fifty-Five
STORY
* * *
“Get on the rugs.”
Grayson stepped off me. Without his heat, the window was icy cold, and shame assaulted me. I slashed a glance at the rugs.
A sharp, stuttering breath left me. “There?”
Where I’d just attempted to desecrate my love for Grayson? I stepped back, rubbed my chest, trying to stop my beating heart. He pressed his hand over mine, pushing me back toward them, ripping open the fly to his tailored pants in the same breath.
“It’s—”
“Wrong?”
Grayson slid down my body, pushing up my torn dress, kissing every inch of skin as he did. Wet and tender, careful yet sloppy kisses along my rounding stomach. My thoughts abandoned me, but Grayson kept me grounded, held me up by the arch of my back with strong hands.
From the ground, his eyes found mine, his voice was deep, vibrating in my chest. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I learned you were pregnant.”
Tingles rose along my skin like the softest touch.
“Your wife could be losing her child.” I whispered my fear aloud. He dragged his hands along my ass, teeth grazing my inner thigh. I struggled to focus.
Teeth.
Grayson.
More.
Then it was gone. I opened my eyes, dazed, as Grayson stood again. Before I could decipher the look in his eyes, he tangled his fist in my hair, ripping my mouth to his.
“There is nothing redeemable here,” I gasped against his lips. “If this was a fairy tale, we would be the villains.”
But I kissed him back.
Deeply.
Losing myself in him as he dragged us down to our knees, forgetting my shame, until we were soft on the rugs.
“I wanted to give you a beautiful happily ever after, Story.” He was calm as he spoke, calm as he pulled off the rest of my dress.
I was ravenous for him.
I tugged on his jacket.
I ripped at his pants.
Needing more.
“I wanted to make your life perfect, because you deserve perfect.” He kissed my shoulder tenderly, lazily. “I wanted to build us everything. I always thought the worst thing was becoming my dad. But I know better now.”
Our clothes lay discarded. A thousand thoughts tried to push into my head—wrong, shameful, bad—but they all vanished at the sight of him, one I’d been deprived of for months. His chiseled body golden even in the violent storm.
If it was possible, he swallowed my naked body with more hunger than I did him, jaw clenched, tongue pushing into his cheek. I pressed my hand to his muscled chest, dragging it down to his eight-pack. He gripped my wrist, and I paused—then he tore me to him, and our bodies collided.
“Worse than becoming my fate, is running from it, is losing you.” He wrapped his arm around me, an anchor against his cock throbbing against my stomach. “I would break every law, every rule, every moral code to be with you, Story Hale.”
He slammed his mouth against mine.
Hot. Brutal.
Every part of him bruised and plundered and stole. His hand gripping my ass, his tongue searing mine—months he was making up for in seconds. I gasped into his mouth and he swallowed it. I could only let Grayson use, explore, and take.
A soft pressure circled the entrance to my ass. I jolted away from his lips on a gasp. He kissed my jaw, never breaking contact.
“Still haven’t had anyone in your ass, little nun?” he asked against my neck, still teasing my ass. The slamming snow behind him was glittery in my blurred vision.
I shook my head. I couldn’t speak. The air in my lungs stuck in my chest.
Grayson made a sound in his throat; then before I could think, he spun me so I was on my knees. He ran a taunting, teasing hand up and down my spine. He knotted my hair around his fist, dragging me back so I could see him.
“Why not?” His breath fogged my lips.
“I—”
I broke off on a groan as he slid his pinky slowly, so slowly, inside my ass. His mouth quirked on a crooked smile.
“Why not, little nun?” he asked again.
“Because I—”
He pushed deeper inside and grinned when I broke off on another groan—but then he pulled out and I felt bereft, empty. He circled around me, teasing and thumbing me, eyes watching, drinking in every soft whimper.
“Why not, Story?” he asked softly.
“You know why not.”
The muscle in his jaw feathered at my answer, blue eyes cracking.
His grip tightened in my hair. “Say it.” As he spoke, he pressed his thumb against me, stretching me so much more than his pinky had, and I swallowed air. “Say it, Story.”
“Because I want it to be you,” I gasped.
Our groans melded together as he slid deeper inside me. I got lost in his blue eyes, in his fingers digging into my tailbone as his thumb rocked into me.
He thrust deep inside.
Deeper.
Deeper until I couldn’t breathe.
Then he kissed me.
Devoured me.
Tongue stealing my breath as he fucked his thumb harder into my ass.
Suddenly he pulled away, taking heavy breaths like he’d just run a marathon.
“What?” I blinked, feeling as if I’d come out of deep water. “What’s wrong?”
He let out a breath of a laugh, eyes heavy-lidded. Predatory. “Little nun…” He slid his tongue across his top lip, and I wanted to lick him.
“Fucking trouble,” he finally said, rocking his thumb slower inside me. “I wanna fuck your ass, but you’re way too tight.” He thrust in again, eyes dropping to my parted lips. “You need way more than this. You need lube and shit.”
I closed my eyes on a groan. “Grayson, you’re the worst virgin in history,” I breathed. “You’re supposed to have that on a key chain. Or a couple of samples you got one time in Vegas.”
I felt him freeze; then his finger slipped from my ass.
I couldn’t help it. I whimpered.
He rose up behind me like a shadow, a predator. Thighs caged either side of me; his cock throbbed between my parted legs, hand still in my hair.
“Jokes,” he growled into my ear. “I missed your jokes.”
I was blind with my need for him. I arched my back, trying to arch into him. His hand dug into my hip and he pushed into me just a little, and a small whimper fell from my lips.
“I like your ass from this angle, little nun. You want me to fuck you this way? From behind?”
“Any way.” I begged, looking over my shoulder at him. “I want you any way.”
He ripped me up by my hair, forcing me to arch against his chest.
“You already got fucked, little nun. I can feel him inside you.” His eyes flashed, wild and dark. “Sure you’re not finished?”
I tried to shake my head, but his grip in my hair was too tight.
“Say it.”
“I’m not finished.”
“Watch,” he growled. “Look at my cock in you. Watch me fuck him out of you.”
He pushed inside me, and if it weren’t for Grayson’s burning, bruising, and unrelenting grip in my hair, my head would have fallen forward. It was sparks and tingles and fire in my chest and veins
And it was torture.
Grayson kissed me softly and tenderly as he slowly entered me, never all the way in, never all the way out.
“More,” I begged.
He laughed against my neck, kissing me wet and hot.
Not biting.
Not what I need.
And he knew it.
“Did he feel good inside you, Story?” Grayson taunted.
I gasped at the knife-sharp pain, the memory of West slamming back inside me twisting with the pleasure of Grayson’s thrusts.
“Did he hit that spot you like?” Grayson asked softly, too soft.
He thrust harder, deeper, but still not enough. Just so I knew what c
ould have been.
“No, he didn’t,” he growled. “Not even my little nun knows the things that make her scream.”
“Grayson,” I gasped. “Please. I need more.”
He thumbed my chin tenderly. “You’re so beautiful when you beg.” His touch turned vicious. “He’s all over my fucking cock, Snitch.”
“I’m so—”
Grayson slammed his lips against mine, cutting me off with a brutal, bruising kiss that left me winded.
“Shut the fuck up.” His eyes crackled and popped as he thrust. Harder, deeper, but still not enough. “I don’t ever want to hear those words from your lips. Not about this.”
Pain broke through his eyes.
The game vanished.
“He’s all over my cock,” he gritted again, thumbing my lip tenderly while saying words that eviscerated me in the way only Grayson Crowne could. He bent forward, until I could taste his breath on my lips. “Should I make you suck him off me?”
My eyes grew at the idea.
He laughed. “You don’t like that idea, little nun? Then you better come so fucking hard you’re the only thing left.” His words turned to a dark snarl and he bit my bottom lip. A strangled groan fell from me just as he pulled away. He seemed to focus on that, eyes zeroing. Animalistic. His own lips parted, sparkling with his saliva.
I wanted to lick it. Lick him. I reached for him and he pulled farther away with a vicious smile.
He continued to thrust at the same ruthless, calculated rhythm. His hand trailed down from my chin, lingering on the swell of my abdomen. Restraint made his grip iron.
My thighs ached, my entire body throbbed.
Dangling on the precipice, but never allowed to fall.
“Grayson.” I wrapped my arms behind me, encircling his neck. “Please.”
He froze, as if coming out of a trance. “What? Do you want me to stop?”
My heart cracked. Even after everything, he paid attention to me.
I dragged my nails down the back of his neck. “Fuck him out of me, please, Grayson. Do it for real.”
It was shameful and hideous and it should have disgusted him, but he groaned like I’d just swallowed his cock inside my mouth.
“My little nun…” He licked a blaze of fire up my neck. “You were made for me.”
He groaned and thrust harder.
In and out.
But his bite still wasn’t enough.
His thrust still wasn’t enough.
He was holding back.
“Please. More. Give me what I need.”
Grayson flipped me to my back, eyes burning, jaw clenched.
“Story…I…” He looked away.
I pressed my hand to his jaw. “What?”
“I don’t want to hurt her.” His brows drew together.
“You’re worried about hurting the baby?”
My heart broke a little.
Because of course Grayson Crowne was worried about that.
“She said we couldn’t hurt the baby. Give me more.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist and dragged my nails down his back. His groan only heightened my need.
He went a little harder, but not enough. Not Grayson.
“Please.” I scraped at his shoulders. “More.”
His jaw was clenched, nostrils flared.
There was something in my chest.
A truth I was keeping secret.
Because even if this moment never lasted, it would always be true.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered. “I love you. I need you. Only you can give me this.”
He groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder, then rolled his hips, thrusting harder and faster at exactly the speed I needed.
We were a chorus of repressed desperation and need.
It started at the perfect spot between my thighs, growing until the throbbing was mind-scattering, until I couldn’t breathe or think in anything but Grayson.
“Give me what I need,” he rasped, pulling my hair back, biting my neck. “Give me those beautiful sounds. Let go, Story.”
He went harder, faster, eyes burning, studying and drinking me, each thrust like the careful stroke of a violin. My mouth opened on a whimper, a gasp.
“More,” he demanded with a powerful thrust.
I came undone.
For those two point five brilliant seconds the world stretched on into forever like melted taffy.
For those two point five brilliant seconds, everything was perfect and whole.
I cried his name on a broken scream, the room blurring. All I knew was feeling. Him throbbing inside me, his groan against my neck, lips wet and hot, sucking and biting.
I arched into it, into him, until I came into stardust.
When I came back down, he was watching me. He anchored my head with both of his hands, watching me tenderly, still hard inside me.
“You will be the death of me, Story Hale.” He kissed me brutally until I was breathless. “But I will die over and over again if I could hear that sound one more time.”
He pulled back, lips still pressed to mine.
“What if it’s fate, Grayson?” I whispered my fear. “What if we’re not meant to be? We keep trying to beat it, but what if it’s fate?”
He smiled against my lips. “If our fate is forbidden, then I’ll live as a fugitive.”
Fifty-Six
GRAY
* * *
Story lay on my chest and I carded my fingers through her hair, listening to the sounds of the blizzard dying outside. Somehow the world was burning down around us, but for the first time in months, I could breathe again.
Story pushed off, sitting up. “What just happened can’t happen again.”
“Fuck that.”
I grabbed Story by her hair, pulling her back down to the rugs and beneath me. I crushed my lips to hers, kissing her until she melted back into me, her body listening to my touch.
When I pulled back, it took a few seconds for her to blink her eyes open, a hazy look on her face.
I ran a knuckle down her jaw.
“Stay the fuck here,” I said softly. “I’m going to kill West.”
She blinked out of her delirium and grabbed my arm. “Wait.”
“I should have killed that fucker at my wedding, Story.”
This was all my fault…I’d pushed my girl to the brink of destruction. But not again.
Never again.
“This has nothing to do with West. It’s us. You lied to me. Again. I keep letting you. You’re getting rid of me to live happily ever after with Lottie. I almost fell for it. Stash away the mistress. Come visit me for the holidays. Give me a nice stipend.”
“After everything, you still don’t fucking trust me? I didn’t sleep with her, Snitch.” I gripped her face until my thumbs blanched her skin.
How the fuck did I get her to believe me?
“It’s not my fucking baby.”
Snitch started to stand again, and I grabbed her arm, forcing her down.
“You still don’t trust me.”
“I saw the come on her thighs on your wedding night. Lottie isn’t conniving, Grayson. She’s broken. Because we broke her.”
She reached for her locket, trying to undo it, and I slammed my hand over hers.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“This is where our thread ends. Just please forget about me.”
I pushed my tongue against my canine as a dark laugh stuttered from my chest.
Forget about Story?
“Story Hale, you crashed into my lips and into my life. You took my virginity. You took my heart. You are the only woman I have ever had sex with, and the only woman I ever want to sleep with. You.”
A look flickered across her eyes; her breathing came short and sporadic and she tried to break away, tried to shove me off, but I held her by the wrist so she couldn’t run.
“Don’t tell me you don’t fucking trust me. You bleed with me.”
“I c
an’t breathe. Let me go.”
“Did what we just do mean nothing to you? Every secret we share, is it nothing? Look at me, Story.”
She yanked on her wrist. “Let me go.”
“No!” It bellowed out of me, louder than the wind, louder than any word I’d ever said. Scratching at my throat and lungs.
She fell back down beside me, shoulders slumped.
I let her wrist go, studying her, waiting for her to speak, afraid to touch her and spook her.
“Tell me what the fuck I have to do, and I’ll do it.”
“I believe you,” she whispered.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
Slowly her eyes locked back on mine, her breathing labored. “We’re ruined,” she whispered. “We’re broken forever.”
STORY
* * *
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He stroked a hand down my face. The look in his eyes too soft. Too sweet.
“Even if you didn’t sleep with her, I slept with him. I slept with West.”
I was the only one in this twisted, fucked situation who did that.
Grayson smiled.
Not the Grayson Crowne smile, the Grayson smile. The one that made me feel like the sun had shone just for me. I wondered how he could be smiling at a time like this.
When he spoke, his words were gentle. “There you go again, Snitch, saying stupid shit.” He dragged my lips to his. “You’re my girl, Story.”
Tears I’d held at bay for months finally fell. I tried to hide them in my shoulder, but Grayson pressed me against his chest, holding me as sobs wracked my chest.
I pushed off, swiping the tears away.
“It’s not my baby, Snitch.”
I pressed my palm to his cheek. “I love you, Grayson. I will always love you Grayson Crowne.”
He grasped my wrist, holding it in place. “Don’t. I’m not letting you go, Story Hale. I’m never letting you go again.”
“Can you live with yourself if you walk away like this, Grayson? I’m not going to make you choose between me and your wife, between which of your children to abandon.”
“I’m not asking you to choose. I’ve chosen.”
“All you’ve ever wanted was to be nothing like your father.”
Forbidden Fate Page 33