leaves my mouth.
Bending over, G locks his lips with mine, devouring my cries just as he presses the head of his cock inside me. My head involuntarily falls back, dislodging our lips, and my eyes flutter closed in rapture.
He’s rough and bare, and every thrust feels like he’s splitting me in two. His hips move faster and harder, his cock pushing deeper. I ache, and I burn, feeling more alive in this moment than I ever have in my entire life.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” Grayson grunts. “Every part of you is so. Fucking. Perfect.”
I relish the praise, his words and his touch pushing me to the very edge.
“I need to come.” My body teeters on emotional exhaustion. I wrap my fingers around myself and Grayson growls, his body halting, his eyes stormy and crazed.
“Only I make you come,” he pants, while eyeing my hand. “Me and my dick only.”
I drop my hand to the side as he shifts his hips and resumes his relentless assault. The head of his cock pounds into my prostate at a punishing pace. “I’m going to fill you up just so I can watch it all spill back out.”
True to his word, my balls are heavy and achy, my dick throbbing, and heat begins to coil around my spine as every muscle in my body tightens just before release.
Grayson’s cock pushes into me hard and deep, and thick ropes of come unceremoniously decorate my stomach. Like a trigger for his own orgasm, Grayson shouts into the void, and my pulsating hole contracts around him, dragging out his release.
As promised, he fills me up, only to pull out and watch in awe at the beautiful mess he created. He swipes at his come with his fingers and brings it to my mouth.
“Mine.”
I take hold of his wrist and push the digits past my lips, eagerly sucking on them, tasting us together; real and raw. My body begins to whir with a familiar hum when I catch the look of love in Grayson’s eyes.
It’s a look I used to think I imagined. Now I never want to go a single day without it.
“I love you,” I blurt out, the words releasing me of the misery and heartache I’ve held close for so long.
He gives me a show-stopping smile. “I love you too.”
He skates his knuckles down my cheek, and then squeezes himself beside me on the sofa.
Together and sated, my pulse slowly regulates, and my breathing eventually evens. With Grayson and I naked, every inch of me touching every inch of him. My world is perfect.
My world is right.
“I want you to do something for me.”
Sitting up on my elbows, I look down at him. “Anything.”
He reaches over me, and my carving knife comes into view. “I want us to match.”
I narrow my eyes at him in confusion. “You want a tattoo?”
“No. I want you to carve me. Permanently.”
I shake my head at him. “I don’t think I can do that.”
He presses his hand on my tattoo. “You can, Kai. And you will. For me.”
He points the blade at me. “I want it to be exactly the same as yours, with your name in the middle.”
I blow out a long breath. “Are you sure?”
“Sure as I’ll ever be.” He wiggles until he’s lying flat on his back, and I’m once again straddling him. “I want you to have my heart.”
“I have it, G. I don’t need this.”
He gently cradles my cheek. “Please, baby. Carve me with love.”
Enjoyed this forbidden tale of romance? Then check out Devilry by Marley Valentine. “Cole Huxley is everything I could fall in love with, except for one problem... I never wanted to fall for my professor.”
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King Thrushbeard
Cora Reilly
1
Whitney.
For a long time, our family name had carried weight. Old money. Social royalty. Influence.
But now that the first was dwindling, the others were at risk as well.
Dad righted his gray hair once more as if it was him who’d be offered to the highest bidder. The day I’d turned eighteen a few weeks ago, the meat show had begun.
“Our options are limited,” Dad reminded me. “You must give him a chance. We need this.”
Our options were limited because I’d already rejected three possible suitors, all of them from high-ranking families. Old money like our family but with the significant difference that they still had an almost never-ending supply of dollars at their disposal. It wasn’t only Dad’s fault. Grandpa’s unfortunate investment strategies