Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

I shuddered as his fingers dug into my hips, bruising me and sending greedy need whizzing through my blood. His breathing was feral and gruff as he cleared his throat, struggling with the intensity lashing us together.

“I need to know one thing. Just a single thing and then there’s no going back.”

I shivered as his large hands slid away from my hips and grabbed handfuls of my ass, jerking me back into his groin. He ground his erection against me, the seam of his jeans rough in the water.

“Ask me,” I panted, tingling with desire, totally drunk on every part of him. His smell, his touch, his voice, his control.

“Is this a trick? Are you fulfilling what you told me in the conservatory?” He rocked against me, shoving me high until my breasts broke the surface of the water. “Are you giving me your body all so you can steal my heart? Because I should warn you, it’s already yours. You don’t need to play games. I’m sick of fucking games. If you want to teach me heartbreak, you’ve already succeeded in wrapping me around your finger. I already know what it feels like to want you so much I’d rather die than let you go. I’m prepared to keep you here against your will because I can’t stand the thought of you leaving me.”

He bit my ear and slid his right hand to my belly. With aching, tantalizing slowness, he dropped his touch until he once again fingered my pussy. Shallow this time, he dipped in just to his knuckle, ensuring I was well and truly entranced and seduced in every sense.

“I want you, Gemma. I think I’ve wanted you my whole fucking life, but I’m aware that I’m not good for you. I’m not worthy of you. And if I know that, then you must surely agree.” His voice caught, thickening to a savage growl. “So tell me now and put me out of my misery. Tell me that this is all a trick to make me love you because I won’t survive if I believe you might actually—”

“Want you?” I groaned as his finger slid deeper into me.

“Yes,” he breathed, nipping my ear, his broken arm moving upward until his hand cupped my breast and squeezed. His right hand stayed between my legs, rubbing my sensitive clit, keeping me completely at his mercy.

“It’s not a trick, Kas.” I cried out as he pinched my nipple.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” I went taut beneath him as he massaged my breast painfully. “I’m not playing games. I’m not trying to hurt you. I truly want you inside me.”

“Jesus Christ.” His hands vanished from my body, fumbling against my lower back as he ripped his zipper down and unbuttoned his sodden jeans.

He choked with lust as he shoved them down as far as he could and wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me up his body. “I’m sorry.” He moaned as if he still believed he wasn’t worthy of touching me, as if he was infectious and dirty and so many awful things.

And then, he speared up.

His cock slipped between my legs and sank deep inside me. In one thrust, he impaled himself to the hilt, and I flopped backward, boneless and taken, splayed out over his chest with my hands locking around the lips of the bath.

I had no words. No thoughts. I was just sensation. Stretched and claimed and wide open for his pleasure.

He groaned low and deep as he rocked up and his hands went back to their chosen locations, one on my breast and the other between my legs, right where we were joined.

He didn’t speak as he thrust up again, hitting parts of me he hadn’t hit before.

I shuddered with desire, already climbing the mountain to come again.

No one fit me like he did.

No one made me comfortable enough to tip my head back and moan at the moon.

No one understood what I needed as he increased his pace, stabbing into me with quick, vicious thrusts, making water splash and sizzle in the fire, his hands grabbing, rubbing, fisting every inch of my exposed skin.

“God, Kas.” I cried out as he pinched my clit, sending me spiraling.

His teeth sank into my neck as he fucked me hard and fast. His breath puffed hot on my damp flesh, his scruff got tangled in my hair as we writhed together.

We gave up all concepts of being people and just let nature guide us.

We took and gave. We rode and rocked.

Up, up, up.

Gasping, groaning, thrusting, fucking.

We climbed fast and high together.

We gasped and grunted and when I didn’t think I could take another moment, he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug from behind as his hips shot up and his cock unloaded inside me.

“Holy...fucking...hell.” He jerked and spurted, losing himself to his release but still too well trained by his past to let me go unsatisfied.

Even as his body purged into me, delivering streams of his desire, his fingers found my clit and electrified me.

His touch was enough.

A single press and rub.

And I followed him, clenching his cock, milking the final dregs of his orgasm, ensuring we both couldn’t breathe as we went tight with the last waves of pleasure before collapsing together into the remaining shallow water.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I’D FINALLY DIED AND somehow snuck my way into heaven.

It was the only explanation for what just happened.

I dared not move.

I was too shit-terrified of breaking whatever hallucination this was. Because it had to be a dream. This couldn’t be real. That couldn’t have happened. No fucking way would she ever initiate sex between us. And not just initiate but participate so vocally, so physically, with her entire godforsaken soul.