The sound that left Grayson didn’t sound human as he got to his knees behind me. He gripped my hips, pulling me to a stop and then his body was over me and his lips were pressed against my shoulder.
“What is it about you I can’t fucking shake?”
He lined his hips up with mine, and his cock brushed between my legs. I could feel his thick length sliding between my swollen lips. I looked in the mirror and felt my excitement intensify at how big he was compared to me.
“Nothing. I’ve done nothing to you.”
He raised his head, and his fevered gaze caught mine. “The hell you haven’t. Does this,” he asked, shoving against me harder this time, “feel like nothing to you?”
“It feels exactly how I imagined it.”
I pumped my hips back, trying to get him inside me.
“And how’s that?”
“Hard and ready to fuck me.”
My nipples were beaded tight, and my pussy was soaked as the tip of his cock kissed the opening between my wet lips. Narrowing my gaze on the intense man hovering behind me, I pushed him that final inch.
“I’ve been thinking about this ever since I got in trouble for being late to your class.”
It was a combination of her eyes, her words, and as she rocked back on me—her body, that finally did it. With a firm thrust, I drove my cock deep inside her, reveling in the erotic sound she made as she shoved her round ass back against my hips.
“Ahh, God,” she cried out, but I didn’t stop.
My hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head up, making her watch.
Someone should get the visual pleasure here, and since I couldn’t admit to what I was fucking doing, it may as well be her. I was more than happy to study the creamy curves of her voluptuous body but then I heard her softly say, “Watch us.”
Who am I to ignore such a plea?
My eyes caught hers in the mirror, and I pushed deeper inside her. With each forward motion, her eyes stayed locked with mine and blazed—like she couldn’t get enough.
Her breasts swung every time our hips connected, and when her shiny lips opened and she told me, harder, I almost came.
I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back until I was kneeling so she could sink down over my cock.
“Christ,” I cursed as I pushed her hair over her shoulder and ran the back of my hand down her side to where we were joined.
As I watched the two people in the mirror, it was hard to imagine them as anyone other than a man and woman enjoying each other—and that was exactly what I was doing. Enjoying the fuck out of her.
“Look at you,” I encouraged, now beyond any delusions.
This woman I was with—this gorgeous, sensual woman whose body was made to take mine—was spectacular. As her hands caressed her breasts and she watched us together, nothing could have convinced me that this was wrong.
My fingers found her clit and rubbed it gently, causing her hips to buck and a cry to leave her.
“Look at you sitting here with your legs spread and my cock so fucking deep I don’t think I’ll ever leave. Jesus, Addison. I thought you were perfect before. Now I fucking know it.”
I watched her shake her head in denial as she rocked on me. “Not perfect, never perfect. Again, do it again.”
I held her hip and plunged up into her as she continued murmuring, “Not perfect, never perfect.”
“Addison,” I whispered.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror as she continued to repeat herself, so I thrust inside her again and made her moan instead.
“Perfect for me. Look at us, and tell me this is not fucking perfection.”
She watched carefully as I moved under her, and when her fingers pinched her nipples, I brushed my thumb over her clit. I could see my cock each time I pulled out of her and then watched as it disappeared again between her folds. That was when I felt her muscles clamp around me.
My own climax hit me, and I shouted out her name. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she bit her lip as her body tensed and she screamed mine. Together, we gave in like two warriors who’d just surrendered to the ultimate fight.
Chapter Fourteen
Present…
Fairy tales don’t exist. I don’t know why we’re told stories about them as girls.
Why set us up for disappointment?
There’s a library here at Pine Groves. It’s a small room with three rows of books. Fictional books.
Books full of made-up characters in their make-believe stories.
That’s how I feel right now. Fictional.
I finger the spine of one and read the title before pulling it from the shelf. I run my hand over the cover and flip it open, skimming through the pages.
Tick, tick, tock.
There’s a clock on the wall in here. Doc had them put one up for me. He knows I like to come here to think. Which leads me to believe that he probably put this book on the shelf too. The Other Boleyn Girl—well, who cared about her anyway? No one cares about the other child when the most important one is gone.
Annoyed, I put it back on the shelf, searching for something very specific instead. The dictionary.
I open it and turn the pages until I reach the letter F.
F, for fairy tales.
As my eyes run over the definition, I’m left with a sense of clarity.
My parents weren’t setting me up for disappointment. They just presented the facts wrong.
Fairy tales are stories full of the unimaginable.
Why not tell the truth? That it’s all a lie.
They are nothing but stories to mislead and deceive us into thinking we can have what we want.
I’m not allowed to have what I want.
I can’t have the prince…because I am the unimaginable.
I’m the catalyst in the destruction of my own happy ending.
If only someone had warned the prince.
Tick, tick, tock.
Past…
I could see Grayson from where I was reclining on his king-sized bed. He was silently observing me from a leather chair in the corner of his room behind a dark wooden desk.
I’d stolen his shirt so he was left only in jeans, and when I nuzzled into the collar, I could smell him. Yes, I’d been right. It was the smell of hot sex.
“I like your photographs,” I said, inspecting the black-and-white stills on his walls. There were three on the far left, which I recognized right away.
The Pantheon, The Colosseum, and The Sistine Chapel.
“Did you take all of these?”
His eyes moved to the images hanging vertically.
“Yes. Last summer.”
I scooted over to the edge of the bed but kept my attention on him as I stood. Pushing my hair behind my ears, I strolled over on bare feet and stopped in front of them.
I ran my finger along the ruins of The Colosseum before turning to him. He had one foot resting on his knee and his fingers steepled over his naked abdomen.
I’d never been in the presence of a man so incredibly sexy.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, curious about everything when it came to him.
“I was just wondering how you ended up in my bedroom asking questions about my personal photographs.”