Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

“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.