Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  His kiss turns deeper, exploring, a hint of emotion lurking in the movements between our mouths. Some unspoken words underlined in awe. I shiver in response, momentarily distracted.

  When I open my eyes, I find him watching me, his dark irises intense and reminding me of a starless sky.

  This isn’t the fucking I expected. It’s something more. Something special. Something neither of us anticipated. The sensation only increases as he begins to move, his lips still caressing mine in an almost reverent manner. I taste myself on his tongue, my arousal a sweet flavor in his mouth that heightens the need throbbing between my legs.

  “Kellen,” I breathe, our joining almost too intense for me to accept.

  “Shh,” he whispers, his forehead falling to mine as he sets the pace, driving into me with a strengthening force that fires electricity up and down my spine.

  I hold on, my nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders as his hands remain in a death grip against my hips. He’s finding the rhythm, sating us both while establishing a connection that goes deeper than our skin.

  Kellen Knight is in my fucking blood.

  I feel him there, writhing, heating my veins, leaving behind an essence that is all him.

  It’s a possession I can’t fight, one I give in to with open arms.

  My name falls from his lips, the sound a prayer against my mouth. Then he’s kissing me again, devouring me with every stroke of his tongue as he finally gives me what I need in each harsh, beautiful thrust.

  Tears fill my eyes, the pleasure nearing on pain as he forces me to the edge, practically shoving me into blissful oblivion.

  Everything inside me bursts, my walls pulsating around him and begging him to come with me.

  He erupts on a groan I feel to my very toes, his muscles clenching deliciously as he throbs inside me.

  It’s explosive.

  Unreal.

  The most euphoric experience of my life.

  I’m still quivering as he guides us both to the bed, our heads sharing a pillow. He remains inside me with one of my legs tucked over his, our groins fastened together.

  Our eyes meet, wordless comments floating between us.

  It’s surreal, the kind of moment I used to laugh at in movies. But it’s happening, right here and now. And I have no idea if it’s all in my head or if he’s feeling it, too.

  He palms my cheek and brings me in for a kiss, his lips whisper-soft.

  I realize that I could spend the entire day in this state and not mind, and the way he’s embracing me now suggests he feels the same.

  Seconds roll into minutes.

  Minutes into hours.

  And as our bodies join again, very little has been said between us. Kellen is in charge each time in his own subtle way, teaching me things I never knew existed as he positions me in ways I didn’t know I could bend. Each time is better than the last, taking me to the stars and back with every stroke.

  My heart begins to pound.

  My soul wavering on a precipice of dangerous territory.

  Because this feels like a true bond, a relationship forged in undeniable chemistry that lights both our spirits on fire.

  By the end of our fourth round, I’m a mess both physically and emotionally. He’s done things to me I’ve never even dreamed about. He’s taken my body in a manner boasting the kind of experience I should fear. And yet, I’m already aching for a fifth time. A sixth. A seventh. I don’t care. I want him. I never desire to leave.

  He carries me into the shower at last, denying me my yearning for the fifth, sixth, and seventh rounds, but I know it’s for the best. There’s always tomorrow. I think, anyway. I’ve truly lost track of time between the fucking and the napping and the repeat performances.

  Kellen sets me on a marble bench and turns on the water, a variety of already warm springs sprouting from different corners of the oversized enclosure.

  I smile, feeling a bit drunk. “Of course this would be as extravagant as you are.”

  He returns my amusement. “You’ll thank me for it in a minute.”

  Is he kidding? I’m ready to thank him for it now. Prepared to thank him for everything, in fact. Except for maybe the feeling growing inside my heart. That I don’t really appreciate.

  Kellen parts my legs, causing me to arch a brow at the very satisfied cock dangling between his own legs. “I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, kneeling before me with a washcloth. “Just relax and let me adore you.”

  I don’t have the energy to argue. Not that I would. I like the way he feels too much to tell him to stop.

  Leaning back against the wall, I let him treat me as his own personal doll. He soaps off every inch, moving me without a word, holding me as needed, and gently cleansing me in a manner I’ve never experienced.

  When he kisses me deeply, I return the embrace.

  When he tilts my head to comb shampoo through my tangled blonde hair, I sigh.

  When he nibbles my neck, I grasp his hips and hold us together.

  Soon, he’s hard again, and I find my back up against the wall and my legs wrapped around his hips.

  He’s fucking Superman.

  I tell him this and he chuckles, then silences me with another kiss.

  I’m so drunk on pleasure I can hardly think. Which is why it doesn’t occur to me that he’s bare until after we’ve come together in unison.

  It just felt so right. Too right.

  He curses against my neck, realizing the mistake at the same time, but he doesn’t seem angry so much as awed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Everything,” I suggest. “Anything. Whatever you want.” And I mean it, too. I’m so utterly lost to this man, and the way he’s looking at me now says he feels similarly about me.

  “Another first,” he whispers. “I’m clean, Cyn. If you’re worried.”

  I should be, but I’m not. This whole intoxicating experience has clouded my judgment in the worst way, and I can’t bring myself to be concerned. “I’m on birth control. Clean, too.”

  He nods as if he expected that already, then kisses me again and lowers my feet to the ground. Steam and warm water surround us as if to pull us back to reality, but it fails the moment our eyes meet.

  “I’m not ready for this to end,” he admits.

  “Me either.” I lick my lips, swallowing. “It doesn’t need to end.”

  “It doesn’t,” he agrees softly, studying me for a long moment. “There’s a gala next month being hosted by my family. It’s really my mother. She organizes it annually.”

  I gaze up at him, trying to follow his train of thought and not wanting to jump to conclusions. “Sounds lovely.”

  He nods. “It is. She goes all out, giving all the proceeds to a youth program in New York City meant to help children succeed in schools that may not have as many resources as others. The Break Through Barriers Program, if you’ve heard of it.”

  “I’m familiar with it.” My mother used to give to a similar organization, but I can’t recall the name, so I don’t mention it.

  “Right, so, do you want to go with me?” he asks, his expression taking on a boyish charm that is rather adorable considering the way we just spent our day.

  “Kellen Knight, are you asking me out on a date?”

  “Yes, I am, Cyn Ellis.” He cracks a grin. “I’m being a bit ridiculous, aren’t I?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Man, I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I’m thirteen all over again and asking Rebecca DeFleur to the middle school dance.”

  My eyebrow lifts. “Did she say yes?”

  “She did more than say yes, Cyn.” He waves a hand over himself. “I’m pretty irresistible.”

  “Even at thirteen?” I cock my head. “I’m thinking I’ll need to see proof of that to judge for myself because I’m picturing a short kid with pimples.”

  He covers his heart. “You wound my ego.”

  “Good. It could use a little wounding, from what I’ve obs
erved.” Returning to our banter rekindles my inner fire, grounding me in a way I welcome after all our emotional and physical bonding. “Another gala, huh?”

  “It’s in five weeks,” he says. “We can go to non-galas in the interim.”

  “Oh, so it’s more than one date?” I attempt to feign a shocked gasp, but it comes out sounding very real to my ears.

  Because, yeah, I’m pretty surprised.

  “Several dates.” Kellen cups my cheek. “I already told you—I’m not done. And you told me to take everything. So I am.”

  I study him, searching for a sign of teasing and finding none. “You’re serious.”

  “I don’t do anything partway, Miss Ellis.”

  A laugh bubbles out of me. “No, Mr. Knight, you really don’t.”

  His lips quirk up. “There’s my ego, back where it’s supposed to be.”

  “I don’t think it ever left.”

  “You’re probably right.” He steps closer, his hands finding my hips and closing the gap between us. “So what do you say, Cyn? Are we dating yet?”

  “That depends,” I whisper.

  “On?”

  I go up onto my tiptoes to hover my mouth near his. “On whether or not dating means spending more time in your bed.”

  “It absolutely does.”

  “Then consider us dating,” I reply as I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Another first,” he muses.

  I nearly laugh, but I’m suddenly too busy kissing him to make a sound.

  And then I’m lost to him all over again, my heart falling into the palm of his hand.

  Chapter 15

  Cyn

  Five Weeks Later

  I spin in the mirror, taking in the dress Kellen sent for me to wear tonight. It’s blue again, reminding me of water as it cascades over my curves to the floor. The back is bare, but the front is modest, similar to the gown I wore to the last gala. Only, something about this one seems even more elegant. It’s the beading along the neckline, the way the stones glisten in the light.

  Gigi looks me over, nodding her approval.

  When Kellen insisted on giving me the full experience—spa, makeup, and hair—I told him I wanted to work with my fairy godmother from the last gala. It was the least I could do to pay her back.

  And I am paying her back.

  While Kellen thinks he’s covering all this, he’s not. I made sure of it when I called in the arrangements. If the receptionist at the salon went against my wishes, we would exchange unpleasant words. Kellen paid for all our dates. This I wanted to cover myself.

  Apart from the dress.

  That I allowed him to purchase.

  Smoothing my palms over the silky fabric, I face Gigi once more. “Good?”

  “Something’s missing,” she says, tapping her jaw.

  I glance at my reflection again and frown.

  Hair? Check.

  Makeup? Check.

  Dress? Check.

  Stilettos? Check.

  “Nothing’s miss—”

  Maria appears in the mirror, her expression excited. “You look amazing, Cyn.”

  I spin around and hug her. Over the last month, I’ve met up with her and Gigi twice for pizza. We’re not close friends or anything but definitely more familiar than before. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I’ve come with a gift from your prince.” She produces a box and hands it to me.

  “Kellen sent you?” That seems odd. I didn’t realize they spoke.

  “By way of Victor, yes.”

  “Victor?” I’m too caught up in the present to think it through.

  “The producer of the commercial.”

  “Oh, right.” Duh. I knew that. Sort of. “Kellen mentioned it’s airing soon.”

  “It is. Did he show you a copy?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet. He wants to surprise me with it.” I have no idea why; it’s just a commercial. Well, there’s some special value since it’s how we met.

  “I would pay to see the look on Kota’s face when she watches it for the first time,” Maria muses, her grin wicked. The casting director really doesn’t care for my stepsister, something that has become abundantly clear over the last month.

  Can’t say I like Kota all that much at the moment either, what with the hours she keeps forcing down my throat. I gave her a percentage of my acting cut, just to see if it would stop her behavior. No luck. She’s been a tyrant these last few weeks, making me cut my dates with Kellen short due to this errand or that. He keeps telling me to quit, to pursue my fashion degree instead. It’s tempting, but I don’t have the funds—something I haven’t admitted to him out loud because I don’t want to complicate things between us.

  I like where our relationship is going.

  I like him.

  And I’m pretty sure he feels similarly since we spend all our free time together—what little we have of it, anyway.

  “Are you going to open it?” Maria presses, nodding to the box.

  “Uh, yeah.” I smile and untie the bow on top of the oddly shaped present. It fits in my hand, but it’s too big to be jewelry, which I’m thankful for because I don’t want anything too— “Oh my God, it’s a tiara.” I blink at the sparkly gold piece inside the box. “This isn’t real, right? These are crystals, not diamonds?”

  Maria lifts a shoulder. “I didn’t ask, but he mentioned it suits the theme of tonight’s ball. He also sent me this.” She digs in her bag, pulling out yet another gift. This one she opens to reveal a mask. “Masquerade ball.”

  “Right.” I forgot that little detail. “So he wants me in a tiara and a mask.”

  She nods. “Pretty standard.” Plucking the sparkly item from the box, she hands it to Gigi. “Do your magic.”

  The dark-haired woman practically vibrates with excitement. “On it.”

  I chew the inside of my cheek, frowning. “That had better not be real.” Because if he spent a lot on this hair piece, we are going to have words. Why be so wasteful over a one-time accessory? Not to mention the dress and the shoes.

  Good thing I’m paying for everything else today.

  “Beautiful,” Gigi proclaims, spinning me toward the mirror again as she slides the mask over my eyes. It’s the same color as my dress, with little rhinestones at the sides that match the ones woven into my neckline.

  I have to admit, she’s right about her critique. The entire outfit is gorgeous.

  Maria breathes a dreamy sigh that has me rolling my eyes. “This is like a fairy tale.”

  “You did call yourself a fairy godmother,” I remind her.

  “Indeed I did.” Her hazel eyes gleam as she stares down at me. “I’m so happy for you, Cyn. Really.”

  “It’s just a gala.”

  She shakes her head. “We both know what’s happening here is more than that. Kellen Knight never brings dates to events, especially not one hosted by his family. You’re going to be the talk of the masquerade. It’s like your debut party.”

  “You’re going to terrify the poor girl,” Gigi chastises.

  Too late, I think, swallowing.

  Because she’s right.

  Kellen plans to pick me up from here to head to the gala together. Meaning I’ll be at his side as we enter.

  My mind flashes to the last event, where I met him inside, the photographers all ignoring my presence.

  Tonight, I won’t be ignored at all.

  My mouth goes dry at the prospect, the next dozen or so minutes passing by in a blur before Maria and Gigi escort me outside to where Kellen is waiting beside a stretch limo. He’s in an all-black suit, his matching mask pulled over his sinfully dark eyes.

  He resembles the devil, waiting to escort me to hell.

  And I accept his hand because I’m no longer afraid of the burn.

  “You look stunning, Miss Ellis,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my cheek.

  “Likewise, Mr. Knight. But I think the tiara is a bit overkill.”

  His
lips twitch. “It’s perfect for tonight, Princess Cyn.”

  “That sounds like a title destined for the bedroom.”

  “Maybe it is,” he murmurs, helping me into the limo before turning to say something softly to Maria and Gigi. I call out a thank you to them, realizing I forgot to do so while wrapped up in the appearance of my Prince Charming.

  Maria winks at me before refocusing on whatever Kellen is saying. She smiles brightly, as does Gigi. “You’re not half bad, Knight,” Maria says to him, loud enough for me to hear.

  He gives a nod, agreeing with her.

  Because of course he would.

  His ego should irk me, but it doesn’t. I find it oddly endearing, his confidence an aphrodisiac in so many ways.

  He settles beside me, his minty aftershave filling the interior and shrouding me in a sea of lust.

  As soon as he closes the door, I kiss him.

  Not lightly.

  Not chastely.

  But in a demanding manner as I use the slits of my dress to my advantage and straddle him.

  He hums in approval, his palm wrapping around the back of my neck as he deepens our embrace and takes control. I allow it because I love when he does this, how his tongue dominates mine and leaves my mouth bruised afterward.

  Kellen is irresistible.

  Demanding.

  So damn hot.

  I want to call him mine, but we haven’t had that conversation. I’m not sure we ever will. We’re just taking every day in stride, enjoying our time together, and getting to know each other better.

  He loves talking to me about my sketches, my dreams, and my future career goals. Just as I enjoy hearing about his company, their multitude of projects, and how excited he is to introduce certain telecommunication gadgets to the public.

  The Glass Sliver is just the beginning. He has a series of elaborate ideas being cooked up in the labs, ensuring KK Midnight Enterprises is lucrative for many decades to come.

  But this goes deeper than our professional lives. It’s more profound than our physical chemistry, too. Everything about us just feels right. Like we were meant to meet on that set, our minds and bodies in sync before we even knew one another.