Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

I had the shitty existence of not knowing what those things were, but Gemma...she had it harder because she’d thought I was cured.

That she’d cured me.

Fuck, if only it was that easy.

“Kas—” Her legs hooked over my hips, grinding her core against my pulsing cock. “I need you inside me. Please.”

She set fire to every inch of my idiotic heart and greedy soul.

I wanted to be free with her. I wanted to indulge in things and take everything she had to offer, but most of all, I wanted to fucking remember those things after we’d finished.

Ripping my mouth from hers, I panted, “Make me a promise, Gemma Ashford.” Her head snapped up, lust-fogged eyes struggling to concentrate on mine. I kept her cradled in my arms even though my broken arm burned and my cock was seconds away from exploding. I had to make her vow. “Right here, right now, make me a promise.”

She swallowed, her lips swollen and face etched with need. “Anything.”

I bent and kissed her. Softly. Maddingly gentle. “Remind me.”

She sucked in a breath. “Of what?”

“Of everything.” I pulled her closer, my hips still rocking into hers. “Whatever I forget, remember for me. If I ask, tell me. If I don’t, understand it’s not because I’m running from knowing but because I’m not strong enough. I-I don’t know how long these symptoms will last. That damn book said it could take years...” My jaw clenched with denial, but I forced myself to finish. “I don’t expect you to record every little thing, but please...” I rocked against her heat, her incredible body. “Remember the important bits. Remind me to keep trying, even if it seems like I’m failing. Tell me how I treat you, how I speak to you—teach me to be the man you deserve, and I’ll do it. Help me to be better.”

She flinched, her eyes mirroring the sorrow that consumed me. She took a moment to reply, tears welling, making all the spaces inside me fill with haunted, harrowed things. Finally, she said firmly, almost coldly. “I promise.”

I kissed her.

She grabbed handfuls of my hair, holding on as my tongue dived deep and our kiss turned sharp and primitive. Both of us sealing the promise. Doing our best to convince ourselves that it would work.

It would keep me with her.

It would make me better.

“Take me, Kas,” Gemma moaned, our heads dancing, our tongues tangling, our breathing matching in haggard rhythm.

I stumbled to the side, my body rock fucking hard and no longer willing to tolerate not being inside her. Spinning around, I marched her to the wall.

Pre-cum rippled up my cock at the thought of taking her.

Urgency made me jerky and mean.

This would be quick and vicious. Whatever softness I might or might not have given last night was gone. Today, I was nothing but brutality.

She wanted it hard.

So did I.

I wanted bruises.

I wanted marks.

I wanted my body to be covered in mementos of what happened here so I would remember.

I will.

She cried out as her spine hit the wall. Ivy leaves scattered around us, landing in her hair as we crashed against the vines. I waited for her to tell me to stop even as my hands grabbed the hem of her dress, ripping it up her legs to bunch it at her waist.

I looked down.

Naked.

No underwear.

No obstruction.

Fucking hell, this woman.

She’d be the death of me.

Not the bastards who’d bought me. Not the guests who’d broken me.

Her.

This girl who found me, wanted me, and promised me she’d stay.

I choked as another wash of savagery ignited. I ripped at my shorts, fumbling with the zipper.

My cock sprung free.

Her hand latched immediately around my length.

My head fell back as I let out a guttural groan. “Goddammit, Gemma.”

“Do you like that?” She buried her face in my neck, her teeth scraping on my throat.

I couldn’t speak.

My mind swam. The garden flickered. All that mattered was her touch, pumping me up and down. I shoved her harder against the wall. I grabbed her chin and plunged my tongue into her mouth.

In return, she fisted me, stroked me, dug her thumb into my crown, and smeared wetness down the hypersensitive veins underneath.

We matched.

Violence to violence.

Lust to lust.

My vision spluttered as I fucked her hand.

My breathing turned shallow, and my entire body became twitchy and desperate. An orgasm built in my belly.

I had to be inside her.

Pushing her hand away, I shoved her higher. Once her hips aligned with mine, I pinned her against the ivy again and fell on her.

My hips surged forward, my cock stabbing the wall, her thigh, everything but her pussy.

“Jesus Christ.” I reached down and went to fist myself, needing to guide my desperation to her entrance.

But I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t touch my own body, and how goddamn pathetic was that?

But she knew.

She reached between us, grabbing me again and lining us up without a word.

I think I fell in love with her for that.

I think I gave over my entire being for the simple acknowledgment of my flaws, acceptance of my faults, and her absolute kindness instead of judgment.

Leaving the head of my cock on the precipice of impaling her, she reached up and locked both hands on my shoulders.