Breaking Grace

by Rose Devereux

  “Are virgins always this wet and horny?” I ask.

  “You’d know better than I would,” she pants.

  “No, I wouldn’t. You’re my first.”

  With that, I bury my tongue in her pussy. Her juices spill across my tongue, a sweet flood that makes me moan with joy. I’ve imagined this a hundred times, and now it’s happening. Grace and me. No ropes, no restraints, nothing keeping her here but her desire for me.

  She bucks her hips from the sheer newness of the sensation. I hang on. Pushing her leg open even more, I drive my tongue up into her pussy and slip the tip in and out. A little preview of the massive cock to come.

  God help me. I can’t wait to see her cry.

  Not the way she did in the courtroom, but from pleasure so intense it shatters her. And changes her forever.

  I suck her soft, slick wetness against my tongue. To hear her moan in this room makes me so hard I could come without touching myself.

  I fill my mouth with her juices and stand up. Gripping her by the hair, I pull her face to mine. “Taste yourself. You’re so fucking delicious.”

  Kissing her, I smear her sweetness across her mouth and chin. Her tongue flickers out curiously.

  “Delicious, aren’t you?”

  She gives me a tiny, intoxicating smile. “I like it.”

  “See how wet you are?”

  “Yes,” she says, wiping the corner of her mouth.

  “Who made you that way?”

  “You did,” she whispers.

  “I did. What’s my name?”

  “Bram.”

  “I want you, Bram. Say it.”

  “I want – I want you, Bram.”

  Her words feel so good, like fucking music. My whole body aches with the need to fuck her.

  “You want more, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she says, as I fall to my knees again. “Please.”

  Circling my hands around her ass, I devour her pussy again. This time I focus on her clit, lapping the sensitive bud until her hands are knotted in my hair and she goes up on her toes.

  How’s that have to escape thing going, Grace? I think with a smile. My tongue make you forget what a monster I am?

  Her cunt pulses around my finger as I push one inside. Or try to. This is virgin territory, and even though it’s wet, it’s tighter than anything I’ve ever felt.

  She murmurs something unintelligible as I force my finger in deeper. I circle it in her opening, preparing her for my cock as I lap her petal of a clit.

  Wrapping her leg around my neck, she pulls me closer. Sucking, licking, I show her how much I’ve wanted her from the first day I laid eyes on her.

  I’ll never forget seeing her in front of my house the morning after. She was standing in the street with her father and a police officer. Her face was contorted with grief. I watched her through the window, my heart breaking for her but my cock hard as steel. Something about her beautiful sadness made me want to fuck her until she started crying from pleasure.

  That was the first time I wanted her, and it was sick and wrong. I tried to block out the memory, but I never could. I thought about it while driving, working, jerking off. It came to me in my dreams.

  Dragging her hands through my hair, she holds me against her cunt.

  “It’s so good,” she whispers. “Please don’t…don’t stop.”

  I swallow a tongueful of her gorgeous juice. “Never.”

  Finger twisting slowly into her cunt, I lap, lap again, and then stop. I look up to see her head rolled back and her eyes half-open. Her whole tiny cunt fits in my mouth. I feel so big and powerful in front of her, my kitten, my little moaning nymph.

  “It hurts,” she whimpers as I push my middle finger to the second knuckle.

  “Virgins are supposed to hurt.”

  “But I like it, too. I like – I want –”

  “What do you want?”

  “I just – I love this. I shouldn’t love it.”

  “Oh, Grace, you should love it. You’re just a girl. A beautiful girl who needs to come.”

  I slide my finger out of her cunt and replace it with my tongue. I fuck her with it, giving her a little glimpse of how my cock will feel when I make her mine. When I ruin her for anybody else.

  Her foot finds my cock again, rubbing and pressing my huge erection. It feels so good, the way she feels me with the sole of her foot, curious, a little clumsy, and desperately sweet.

  She rocks her hips against my face. Gently slurping and sucking, I feel her go stiff. Her legs shake and her belly vibrates. I moan against her clit. My face, my neck, my hands are covered with her beautiful cream. I want to drown in it.

  “Please,” she pants, as I give her my finger again. “Fuck me. Make me come.”

  I push my finger all the way in just as she comes. This time, a helpless little scream escapes her. She explodes around me, her sweetness pulsing and squeezing and gushing silky wetness into my mouth. She’s so delicious I could live on her. I could drink her forever.

  As her pussy relaxes, I pull her down to the floor. She’s wobbly and her skin is damp, and she’s smiling that beautiful smile.

  I pull her against me and kiss her with pussy-flavored kisses, and she licks her wetness from my chin.

  “You like your taste,” I say.

  She blushes a little. “I guess I do.”

  “I never knew virgins could be so uninhibited.”

  “You’ve never been with a virgin before,” she says. “Or so you say.”

  I raise my palm. “God’s honest truth.”

  “How did you like your birthday present?” she asks, her face so earnest and real that I laugh.

  “I loved it,” I say, draping the throw over her shoulders.

  She smiles. “Funny how it felt like a present for me.”

  On the way back upstairs, she stops at the doorway to the ballroom. “What’s in here?” she asks.

  “Another room,” I say. I press the button on the wall. I watch her face as warm amber light floods the space.

  Her face glows and her mouth opens. “Another room? Oh, Bram, it’s incredible.”

  I smile at her girlish excitement. It’s like seeing my house for the first time as my eyes follow hers. Everything is big and grand and elegant, from the chandeliers to the stone staircase. The air almost hums with the memory of past parties. Parties that, in retrospect, seem empty without her.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says. “You could throw some amazing events here.”

  “I used to, until –”

  She looks at me, waiting for me to finish. She really doesn’t know.

  “I stopped having parties two years ago. It didn’t feel right after what happened.”

  “After James,” she says.

  I let out a huff. “I’m sorry. You brought him up and now I have, too.”

  “No,” she says, her eyes open and honest. “I’m glad. I’m glad you were…”

  “Changed?” I say quietly.

  She nods.

  “I was, Grace. I always will be.”

  We lapse into silence. Stepping into the ballroom, she looks up at the soaring ceiling. There’s a wistful longing in her eyes I’ve never seen before.

  “You miss your job, don’t you?”

  “I miss being good at something.”

  “The way you talked about it at lunch today, you lit up. I could see that it’s your passion.”

  “It is,” she says. “I guess I love…I don’t know. Vicarious happiness.”

  Taking her shoulders, I turn her toward me. “Why did you quit? Because you didn’t want to see me? I had nothing to do with the bidding process for Phantom. I swear to you.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s not why. It was a choice between Stephanie and me, and Stephanie deserved it. A few times I’d come to work after drinking…and my heart wasn’t in it. I always wanted to work for myself.”

  I hear fierce ambition in her voice, but it’s muffled by everything she’s gone thro
ugh. “Why don’t you?” I ask.

  “I was starting to when –” She stops and forces a smile. “Maybe someday.”

  “You can start a hell of a company with six and a half million dollars.”

  “We’ll see if I can earn it first.”

  Seeing her against the empty backdrop of so many gatherings, I feel a flash of guilt. For two weeks I’ve kept her from the world. Yes, I’ve protected her, and given her the structure she didn’t have. But she can’t go on living this way, trapped and isolated, letting her talents go to waste.

  “I want you to plan a party,” I say.

  Her eyes are dark with disbelief. “Don’t tease me.”

  “I mean it, Grace. Plan it for a week from Saturday. Here, in this room. Can you do it?”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “Nine days? How many people?”

  “A hundred and fifty? Two-hundred?”

  Her eyes brim with excitement and fear. “I’ve never planned such a big event by myself.”

  “Then shouldn’t you?”

  She hesitates. Doubt and confidence battle in her face. “I don’t know, Bram…”

  “I do. I’ve gotten to know you over the last two weeks. I see how hard you try. I know how smart you are.”

  “Thank you, but…” She looks around the room again, her pretty face bright. “I guess I should ask. What’s your budget?”

  “Whatever you want it to be.”

  She giggles, and it makes me smile. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous and true.”

  Her smile fades, and her face takes on a sweetly professional look. “Well…what kind of party do you want?”

  “A dinner party.”

  “I mean, describe your perfect gathering.”

  “No,” I say. “Describe yours.”

  She lifts her eyebrows and puts a hand to her heart as if to say, me?

  “I want your vision, Grace. Whatever you want. No limits.”

  “No limits?” Her eyes fill with wicked delight. “Okay…off the top of my head? White candles in wall sconces. Blood-red roses. Naked servers in gold body paint.”

  “I like this so far,” I say. “Go on.”

  “Um…lute players. Long tables with ornate chairs. White fabric draped from the ceiling and columns.”

  I take her hand. Her palm is damp from excitement. “It sounds like ancient Rome. How debauched you are, my wet little angel.”

  Her blush is sexy and innocent. “I wasn’t until I came here.”

  “Oh, but you were. You just didn’t have enough encouragement.”

  Her face turns serious as she looks at me. “You’d really do this for me?”

  “You’d be doing it for me. It’s a job, Grace.”

  She shakes her head. “I won’t charge you for it.”

  “Of course you will. You’ll charge me way too much and I’ll pay it. It can be the start to your new business. Will you say yes?”

  She doesn’t answer. She just throws her arms around my neck and presses her warm, quivering body against mine.

  Licking her pussy was beautiful, but this is my birthday present.

  Grace

  For the next two days, life is as perfect as it’s been in years. Maybe ever.

  We eat. We sleep in Bram’s bed. We take showers together. I work on my cock-sucking technique and practice having orgasms on Bram’s tongue. For the first time in my life, I straddle a man’s face. I hold his hands to my tits and ride his mouth until I see stars.

  He gives me an afternoon dirty talk lesson, and I giggle all the way through it. “Say it like you mean it,” he says, a devilish smile on his face. “Fuck me. Pound my wet pussy. Make me your bitch.”

  I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Fuck me,” I say, blushing. “Pound my wet pussy.”

  “You forgot the last one,” he says. “Do it again. Take it from the top.”

  Later, when I’m lying next to him wet and panting, I ask him to fuck me. He strokes my face and says, “Not yet, baby girl. You’ll know when it’s time.”

  I almost like his denial. Even though I’m not in my room anymore, he lets me know he’s still in control.

  When we aren’t coming and eating, we’re talking about business. He knows everything there is to know, and I want to learn. I ask him a hundred questions. How did he start out? Who was his first employee? How did Phantom expand?

  For the first time, he talks about the merger and what it means to him. His company is still a young upstart in the industry, even though it made him rich. Signet will give him what he’s always dreamed of. Influence. A name as old as Sears and GE.

  “Nine years in this business and I don’t feel like I’ve made it,” he says, holding me in bed one night. “If we merge with Signet, I will.”

  I take in every word he says, every lesson and bad experience. My dreams feel small compared to his, but he won’t let me minimize them.

  “Someone taught you to underestimate your gifts,” he says, stroking my hair. “Those days are over.”

  “I just…don’t know how to go from who I was to who I want to be.”

  “The key is to depend on yourself,” he says. “Not on me or your memories, on yourself. You’re strong. No one else can fulfill you. Only you can do that.”

  “How do you know I’m strong?” I ask.

  “Because all you’ve ever shown me is a spine of steel.”

  By the time he goes back to work on Monday, I feel different. I feel free. Truly, blissfully free.

  After he leaves, I stand in the upstairs hallway and listen. I hear nothing but the wind gusting through the trees. It isn’t the solitude I relish as much as the trust. Bram left me with a new phone, the keys to his other car, and the run of the house. No room is locked or off-limits. His world is my world. It spoke volumes when he walked down the steps and drove away.

  All of his other reasons for keeping me – pity, guilt, concern for his company – are in the past. Now I’m here because he wants me.

  There are no secrets between us. Nothing I haven’t told him.

  I’m on the brink of a strange place called forgiveness. It’s a state I never thought I’d reach. I didn’t want to. But since he brought me here, that’s changed. I’ve changed.

  I spend the morning making a Pinterest board for the party. It’s the most fun I’ve had in…I can’t remember how long. I pin pictures of sparkly gold masks, lavish flower arrangements, and gorgeous platters of food that make my mouth water. I keep reminding myself that I have no limits. Everything is unlimited – my creativity, my budget, my life.

  After a lunch of leftovers, I drift upstairs to Bram’s room and look at his rumpled bed. That’s where I spent the last three nights, in his arms. Joy swells up inside me so fast I almost can’t contain it. I’m not supposed to feel this way. I’m supposed to be a walking memorial to James.

  But then Bram started showing me how to live again, and now I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to go back to self-destruction and misery.

  I throw off my white robe and flop blissfully onto the bed. Is it normal to be this happy, even for ten seconds? I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve felt the depths of hatred and now the heights of adoration. And I’ve felt them both for the same person.

  I throw back the sheet and fur blanket and pad naked across the room. Bram said I should enjoy being a good girl today, and watching a movie sounds like the perfect way to do it. The last time I watched a movie, I was in my parents’ apartment by myself, drinking cheap wine and feeling lonely. Now I don’t need wine. I just need the scent of Bram on the sheets and the knowledge that he’ll be home soon to kiss me again.

  Squatting down in front of the media center, I start opening drawers. The first one is filled with books. Tucked in the side next to a crime novel is a leather case filled with discs. They’re labeled by date, going back a few years. Maybe movies Bram recorded.

  I grab one and stick it in the slot. Standing in front of the TV, I press the
play button. A slightly blurry black and white picture comes up.

  It’s not a movie. It’s the yard behind Bram’s house.

  I watch it for a minute before realizing what it is. Surveillance video.

  My heart drops. I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to dig up bad memories on a perfect day.

  I eject the disc and stick it back in the case. In the drawer underneath I find movies. Dozens of them. Anything I could ever want to watch.

  I pick out The Notebook and am about to put it on, but my hand feels paralyzed. Get control of yourself. Don’t do this. He trusts you.

  I open the top drawer again and stare at the leather case. I shouldn’t have opened it. Shit.

  With trembling fingers, I tab through the discs until I find the ones from two years ago. It won’t be there. Bram isn’t a liar. He swore an oath to tell the truth. The whole trial hinged on this one detail. His word against James’s.

  From the labels, it looks like each disc holds a week of recordings. When I find the one from the week James died, my body goes numb.

  It’s okay. Bram never said the whole week was unrecorded. Only that camera, only that day.

  When I put it in, I’ll see nothing but images of his property, and maybe Bram coming and going.

  I pull it from its sleeve and slide it in. I feel frozen inside. I used to think that nothing else could happen to me that would equal losing James. There was no one that important left to lose. But now I know there is.

  The video starts. It’s silent. The picture is a little fuzzy, but clear enough. For ten minutes, nothing happens. I’m about to fast forward when a figure comes up the front steps. Bram. Followed by a girl.

  The time stamp in the corner says 12:32 am.

  She’s wearing a tight mini-dress and heels so high I can’t believe she doesn’t trip. She’s pretty, with huge, heavily-lined eyes and puffy lips. She’s almost as young as I am. My heart clenches as I watch her. Arm slung through his, she stands beside him as he punches the combination into the door lock. As if aware she’s on camera, she swings her blond hair forward so it cascades in a sexy sheet over her shoulder.

  “What did you expect?” I mutter. “That he’d be a virgin, too?”

  Queasy with jealousy, I watch him stand aside and let her go in first. What a gentleman. I wonder where he fucked her. And how many times. And if he fucked her the same way he’s going to fuck me.