Page 327 of Once Upon a Fable

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.

Our eyes met.

They met, and they held, and I wanted her with a gut-shredding pain.

I pushed into her wetness...slowly, agonizingly.