And I saw stars.
The world around me shattered, and then all I knew was rolling, gasping waves of pleasure. Deep, aching waves I think might destroy me.
“Scream,” Grayson demanded. “Fucking scream, little nun. You own this house.” Thrust. “You own me.” Thrust. “Fucking scream.”
The great chandelier blurred with his thrusts. I think I screamed, by the way my throat ached. I had a vague view of Grayson’s warm hand closing over mine as I clawed at the cold marble.
“You are so goddamn perfect when you come,” he murmured against my flesh. “My perfect little wife. You only come for me.”
His sweet words licked my ear just like the very first time Grayson took me, tethering me as I came. This orgasm felt different. Marked. As if Grayson was holding a hand to my soul, bruising the name Grayson Crowne forever and indelibly with his thumbprint.
“I will never let you go again,” he continued. “Never lose you again. You don’t fucking bleed for anyone else, ever again. You bleed only for me.”
Because in our twisted fairy tale, the prince slays the princess, and the princess begs to bleed for the prince.
Seventy-Six
STORY
Grayson and I lay on the floor, and I was grateful for the cold marble. I was hot and sticky with him. He ran his finger along my velvety-soft stretch marks, kissing softly as he went.
“You don’t know how hard these make me. Seeing the proof you carried my baby.” His eyes darted to mine, heavy-lidded. “I’d like to fill you with more, paint you with more. Would you like that?”
I can’t do anything but nod, words tangled in lust.
He grinned, cocky and predatory. He slowly slid up my body, muscles bunching with the effort. Morning light slashed unevenly across his body, highlighting the dimples in his ass, the perfect muscles of his back and shoulders.
I swallowed when he settled on top of me, his lips above mine. This was the Grayson Crowne I remembered. Not just the confidence to lay naked in the middle of Crowne Hall, but with a huge smile, golden body gleaming in the sun.
Freed.
Would I ever get used to him?
He dragged a finger down my nose. “I want to give you a huge wedding. I want the world to know you’re mine.”
He played with my lower lip, twisting it, twisting me up. He was already hard again, bruising my hip.
“Little wife?” he prodded.
“I…” Another swallow, and he tilted his head, a soft smile on his face at my stuttering. “I think the world is pretty well aware. What with my confession, and the video. Anyway, don’t you want a small wedding?”
His eyes went dark. “Not with you.”
I blinked. “I’ll marry you anywhere, Grayson.”
He grinned, that big, Grayson smile I lived for, then pressed a deep, slow kiss to my lips.
“So…” I sighed against his mouth. “Are all the coins finally accounted for?”
Grayson palmed my cunt, but nothing more. I groaned, arching into him.
“The triplets have three,” he said against my shoulder, still massaging my pussy. “Lottie has the one you gave her. And one went to the DA to keep my grandfather in jail.”
I jerked up. “Three of them are going to the St. Germaines? Is that okay?”
“I don’t give a shit. I’m done chasing coins.” He dragged me back down to him, then paused. “You were right, you know.”
I tilted my head.