“You’re squeezing the life out of my cock,” he heaves into my chest. “You could make a priest sin, woman.” I clench around him at his words. “Fuckingfuck,” he grunts, pistoning into me.
“Oh God,” I scream, biting his shoulder letting him take over. I can barely hold on. I feel like I’m being split in two. It takes everything in me not to pass out from his brutal thrusts. He’s a man on a mission, and I’d gladly be slain if this is how good falling apart feels. I know he’ll always be there to catch me.
“Mais, please tell me you’re close. I can’t… I…” he whimpers.
It takes one more thrust before I’m tumbling towards the hardest orgasm of my life. I don’t care about the pathetic noises I’m making—I’m too busy trying to remember how to breathe. “Don’t you dare stop. I’m…I’m gonna…” I can’t get the rest of the words out before I slam my eyes shut and explode around him.
“Thank fuck,” he groans, slamming home one last time and holding me tight while he spills deep inside me. I feel every twitch of his dick as he paints me with his cum, drawing out my own orgasm before I slip off him. “That’s it, baby. Ride it out. Use me.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about until I notice I’m grinding my swollen clit across his cum-covered shaft. I whimper when he pulls me closer, hitting the perfect angle that has me coming again. My second orgasm hits impossibly harder, and I almost fall off the saddle. Grayson's arms wrap tightly around me.
I collapse on him. Sandalwood and leather wrap around me; I could die happily in his arms. We sit like that for a while, soaking up the lost time together. I stroke his bicep with my thumb, tracing a tattoo peeking out. Something has me sliding his sleeve up.
“Gray,” I murmur, “when did you get this?”
He holds up his arm to see better, a lopsided grin on his face. “Five months ago,” he hums.
I trace the delicate pattern inked into his skin, the first tear falling with it. “A monarch,” I breathe, stroking a wing. There’s a pattern through it, and I turn my head to read it. The wordArchieis etched inside the wing pattern.
“I had to have my angel with me,” he whispers against my cheek, kissing the tear away. “I may have let you fly away, but you were always right here with me. They say if you love something, set it free, and if it’s meant to be, it will come back. Your wings found their way back to me.”
“I love you so much.” I press my lips to his, savoring the kiss.
“I love you too, honey.”
Research notes: the story isn't over if you haven’t found your happily ever after yet.
epilogue one
. . .
GRAYSON
“You remember the plan, sugar?”
“I’ve got it under control!” Nova squeals, doing a spin so her dress fans out. “I won’t mess this up.” She gives me knuckles, clutching the cloth in her little hands.
“I’m counting on you.” I wink and then get into position.
I can hear their whole conversation from where I’m standing on the other side of the house. I try to muffle my laughs as best as possible.
“Will you play a game with me, Waisie?” Nova screams, a little too loud and obvious. “You have to wear this, though.” I can’t hear Maisie’s response, but Nova’s giggles tell me enough.
Nova leads her around the house to where I’m standing with The Foxes and Laine. Everyone stays silent as Nova marches Maisie right up to me.
“Now what?” Maisie asks, the prettiest smile on her face.
“Now it’s my turn,” I rasp, my throat catching. I rip the blindfold off and clasp her hands in mine.
“What’s going on?” she mumbles, looking around. She looks over my shoulder at her new surprise, her gorgeous eyes blowing wide. “What’s that?”
I place a kiss on each of her knuckles before pulling her behind me. “This is the start of your dreams, Maisie.”
I open the door to the pastel pink shed I built, leading her inside. It’s finished with hardwood flooring, bookshelves along the walls, and a handmade desk sitting in front of the single window, the typewriter I got her sitting on top.
“You built me a writing shed?” she squeals, jumping into my arms.
I kiss her and set her back down. “Well, go on, check it out,” I laugh, my heart beating erratically for what’s next.
