STORY
He’d leave marks.
Visible marks.
“Grayson,” I breathed. I grasped his shoulders for support as his lips found my collarbone, kissing, sucking, biting.
“I fucking love my name on your lips.”
My knees weakened, and he slid his hand from the wall, grasping the small of my back, hiking me up against him and the wall, his hands under my ass.
He hiked me harder against his thigh, his dick iron against my stomach.
“Y-You’ll leave marks.”
He looked up at me, sultry and heavy lidded, then grazed his teeth along my collarbone. Goose bumps followed after them, tingling in my teeth. Between my thighs ached and throbbed. I threw my head back and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Yeah, give me those sounds,” he said. His voice was rough like sandpaper, abrading my blood and making me squirm. He bit harder, and this time I gasped. “Fuck, those are mine. You don’t make those noises for anyone else.”
Another bite, this one at the juncture between my neck and collarbone. A whimper escaped as my vision twirled into a kaleidoscope of pleasure.
“You like that. Fuck.” He groaned. “Of course you do.”
The room became only him. Grayson. Tongue. Teeth. Hands.
“Your dresses are perfect,” he said. “My little nun. Do you wear them just for me?” He pulled a bit of the giving material aside, biting my shoulder, then laving his tongue over the wound. “A taunting, teasing, torturous nun.”
He tugged on the sheer neckline, exposing my cleavage, paused. His blue eyes searched mine, waiting for me to tell him to stop. I licked my lips, his eyes dropped to them, then he tugged harder, exposing my breast.
I was exposed.
My heart must have pounded at three times the speed.
Obscene.
Raw.
That was how I felt.
It was a tight fit, the material barely had enough give, and my breast pushed out farther. The dress dug into my ribs. Gray’s jaw clenched so tight the muscle twerked, and his eyes hardened.
“I don’t like sharing you, Story,” he said, voice rocky and deep. “Any part of you.”
He took my nipple into his mouth. I arched my back. Swam in a sea of new sensations. Tongue, lips, sparks shooting and catching fire in my abdomen, lighting a blaze in my gut.
Teeth.
I gasped, opening my eyes and catching his at the same time. A hot, burning question in them. He took my nipple between his teeth, and I grasped the collar of his shirt, his bow tie, anything, and he bit harder. I was wickedly burning, a pain twisted and set fires inside me I couldn’t ever hope to put out.
Then I saw just beneath my thumb, a lipstick stain, a pale plum color.
I don’t like sharing you…
“I don’t like him talking to you.” His lips vibrated against my flesh. “I really don’t like him touching you.”
He stood up, pressing his clothed chest to my half-naked one. My nipple was bruised and marked. And so was he.
Just not by me.
He grasped my chin, pulling my eyes to his. “This is mine.” He pressed down my chin for emphasis. My eyes wandered again, to his collar.
Pale plum.
A pretty color that matched Lottie’s dress so well.
Grayson kissed my chin, his top lip barely grazing my bottom one, before pulling back to thumb my lips. “These are mine.”
He leaned in like he was going to kiss me, but I turned my head at the last second.
Pale plum.
It paired so well with her skin, and the matte made her lips look plumper.
“Kiss me,” Grayson growled.
“You said no kissing,” I breathed.
He gripped my shoulders, dragging me closer, fingers bruising. He was hard and throbbing against my hips, and every time I breathed, I breathed in Grayson. I could all but feel his heart pounding.
“Fuck what I said, give me your mouth.” His teeth scraped against my chin, dragging along my neck, before following the same path with his lips.
“The contract—”
“Is that really all this is to you?” He dropped me and slammed his hands beside me in one motion. “A contract?” His blue gaze flitted left and right, searching mine.
No, I need you.
No, I love you.
My eyes landed on his collar, where the purple truth lay smudged on his white shirt. Marked, because Lottie could mark him. She could kiss him. She had the right. Me?
This dark closet was suddenly too fucking dark.
This was my right.
Darkness.
He’ll marry her, leave me behind. If I’m lucky, I get holidays.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Coldness swept his face and sucked away my breath like a winter wind. He stepped away, eyeing me with that Grayson Crowne apathy and disgust.
“Don’t leave this room, Snitch.”
He opened the door, slammed it, and left me in the dark.
I was alone for maybe ten minutes before I heard them. I had only fifteen seconds’ warning. Her soft giggles. His dark, cocky laughter. There was nowhere to run, so I had to hide, but a linen closet didn’t afford many places. I looked left and right, and dove behind a stack of unopened boxes as the door opened, two bodies falling through it.
“Grayson, stop, people could walk in,” Charlotte laughed. Light flooded the room, then snuffed out, slammed shut.
“Can’t wait to feel your pussy,” Grayson said, pushing her past the boxes, to me. Her back hit the wall beside me, and I crawled to hide, to not be seen. I shrank between two piles of linen, drawing one over my body, hoping to disappear.
Lottie laughed. “You’re dirty.”
I could see them through my flimsy sheet. They were fuzzy through cotton, but I saw him kiss her and saw her kiss him back. I couldn’t help but think of the one year I went trick-or-treating and my mom had just grabbed a sheet and cut holes in it.
I’d wanted to be some princess or something.
She’d made me a ghost. It was easier.
“This dress is too fucking big,” Grayson said.
Lottie turned around, bending over and hiking up her dress to give him easier access.
I lowered the sheet a few inches, exposing my eyes but covering my nose. I needed to see the crash, needed to see for certain the moment my heart cracked in two.
He ripped down her panties, then prowled over her, thrusting his fingers inside her.
I wished for numbness, but my wish wasn’t granted. I was an exposed nerve forced to feel everything.
“Do you like that, little nun?” Grayson groaned.
“Nun?” Lottie’s delirious voice questioned. He never answered her, but by the way she gasped, he did something to make her stop questioning.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, but I made sure to stay quiet.
Grayson’s eyes opened, locking with mine as he kissed her neck and made her moan against the wall where he’d just done the same to me.
While I was behind her.
Then he closed his eyes.
She cried out, hitting her peak while I could still feel his lips, my breast throbbing from his kisses. Bruises would sprout.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Is this what a panic attack feels like?
I didn’t even realize she’d righted herself. That they were ready to go, until Grayson spoke.
“Come on, Lottie.”
He shut the door once again, leaving me in the black.