The Glass Slipper (Cinderella 3)

She snorts out a laugh. “Win!”

I bite her lip. “Hmm?”

“You’re so nasty.”

Any other words she tries to speak are stolen when I pinch her clit and roll it between my fingers. It only takes a few times of this before she’s jolting with an orgasm. I waste no time jerking her thighs apart and lining the tip of my cock against her slickness. She screams when I drive into her with a hard thrust. I fuck her hard—much longer than forty goddamn seconds, thank you very much—until she’s a trembling mess beneath me. With a contented sigh, I release inside her, filling her with hot come. I don’t slide out of her but instead rest on my elbows on either side of her face so I can look at her.

“Do I make you happy, Win?”

I lift a brow. “Fishing for compliments. So unattractive.”

“Liar. It’s one of the things you love about me.”

“Happy? Hmm. Maybe just fine. I feel fine.”

She smacks me. “I hate you.”

“Not when I give you flowery words,” I taunt. “Yes, beautiful girl. You make me so fucking happy. I can’t live without you. You’re my everything.”

Her hazel eyes twinkle with mirth. “Keep going.”

“That’ll cost you.”

Her grin is devilish. “I can afford it.”

“So fucking cocky, Cinderelliott.”

This girl changes me—warms frigid parts of me I didn’t know existed—and I’m not even mad about it.

“You, old man, taught me everything I know.”

I kiss her hard and then spend the rest of the afternoon teaching her a few things she doesn’t know yet.

I think they call this a filthy fucking happily ever after.

EPILOGUE

Winston

Seven and a half years later…

Team Constantine.

That’s what Ash calls us when she’s trying to round us up to get out of the house or to get our group to cooperate. Like our own little family cheerleader. Of course, our team sucks. Lane is particular as fuck and can’t ever seem to get his backpack organized just the way he likes it which nearly always makes us run late. He’s the most neurotic kid you’ll ever meet. Noelle—or No-No as we like to call her—is a monster. Three and a holy fucking terror. Even the baby, Tuck, nine months old, is better behaved than his sister. Whenever it’s time to leave to go to the Constantine Compound or our house here in the Hamptons or anywhere for that fucking matter where we have to pack, it’s a goddamn zoo.

“Okay, who wants a snack, Team Constantine?” Ash says from the middle of the towel she’s laid out on the sand. “Mommy brought applesauce.”

Lane, ever the serious one and who lives to please his mother, says, “I love applesauce.”

No-No, however, screeches in indignation, “No appo-sauce! Gummy beaws!”

This sets Tuck off, who needs a fucking nap probably more than his sister, and he starts to bellow, fat crocodile tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

“You made the baby cry,” Lane chides his little sister, his blue eyes glinting angrily. “Bad girl.”

She raises her hand like she’s going to smack the shit out of him. I snag her up before she can make impact and tug her into my arms. Her brown pigtails are curly, and her hazel eyes are filled with fire.

Just like her damn mother.

Which is why I get stuck dealing with her.

“We don’t hit,” I explain, my voice stern as I settle her in my lap.

The ocean air today is salty and the waves are mild. It’s a perfect, sunny beach day. Even when everyone is fighting and crying, it’s still perfect to me.

Noelle scrunches her nose at me. “Wane is bad. Not me!”

“No one is bad.” I kiss her forehead. “Tell Lane you’re sorry and I’ll give you a present.”

Her cheesy grin makes my heart melt. “I sowwy, Wane. I wuv you.”

“It’s okay, sissy,” Lane says back because he’s a good boy. “I love you too.”

“I did it, Daddy.” Noelle holds out her cute little hand, waiting for a treat.

Ash smirks at me but is busy trying to feed Tuck a bite of applesauce. My wife—yeah, she’s locked in forever—thinks I spoil the kids. As if she has room to talk. She’s just as spoiled.

I reach into one of the bags we brought down from the house to the beach and fish out the gummy bears. Noelle is all grins as I hand her a red gummy bear. Lane watches me with a serious expression that always kills me. The kid is so damn adorable but he’s going to get ulcers one day if he doesn’t relax.

I toss him one and it bounces off his forehead making him giggle. Tuck makes a go to grab it, but Lane is quicker. Noelle has already demolished her gummy bear and is holding out her hand for another.

“Who do you love?” I ask, holding the red bear up and not giving it to her yet.