Breaking Grace

by Rose Devereux

  “I’m already doing things I swore I wouldn’t do,” I say. “I turned down an opportunity I’d have jumped on a month ago just for the fucking adventure of it. But I said no without a second thought.”

  “What kind of opportunity?” she asks.

  “To move to another country after the merger happens. I thought that’s what I wanted.”

  Her huge eyes plead with me. “Don’t, Bram. Don’t give up what you want for me.”

  “But that’s just it, Grace. I don’t want it. I don’t want the life I had before. The only fucking thing I want is you.”

  Her forehead wrinkles. “But you said –”

  “I know what I said. You shouldn’t depend on anyone but yourself. But fuck, you make me want to.”

  She takes my still-rigid cock in her hands. She kisses the head like she worships me, and I feel it in a place I didn’t know existed. Not my soul. Deeper than that. Where I’ve buried all the pain and death and things I wish I didn’t know. The secrets I want to tell Grace but can’t, because I love her.

  I fucking love her.

  “Back on the table,” I say.

  She gets up again. She goes to the table and kneels.

  Bending down, I cover her perfect ass with kisses. I lick her cunt from behind and slick the juices over her hole with my tongue. Her little squeals and whimpers tell me she loves it. She loves that I lick her in the most private places like an animal. That I smell her gorgeous feminine heat and want to breed her.

  When she’s good and slick, I position myself behind her. She wriggles her hips, begging to be fucked like a girl who’s just discovering the pleasures of a big cock.

  “I need this,” I say.

  “Take me.”

  “Not your cunt, baby girl. Your ass.”

  Her body freezes on instinct.

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. You’ll see.”

  Pulling her head back by her hair, I demolish her mouth under mine as I press the head of my cock to her ass. Whimpering, she breathes against my lips. “You’ll go slow?”

  “Yes. I won’t let it hurt. I promise.”

  She exhales a long breath. Her hole relaxes and opens to me. “Perfect,” I say, slicking more of her juices around my shaft. “Just like that.”

  Kissing and sucking her lips, I give her one inch, two inches, three. “Is that okay? Not too scared?” God, I love taking care of her. I love it as much as fucking her ass.

  “I’m okay. Don’t – don’t stop. Please.”

  Please. And I thought I couldn’t get harder.

  I thrust my hips forward with gentle but steady force until her body starts to yield. She’s soft but so tight, the perfect virgin beauty. She moans and cries, and a hot tear splashes over my fingers.

  This was what I always wanted – to feel her surrender. To hear her say yes to me a thousand times over with her body.

  With a long, slow thrust, I fill her ass with my entire cock. Fuck, I love this girl. I have from the first moment I saw her beautiful, weeping face.

  Her muscles pulse around me and her pussy gushes. “Why so wet, sweet thing? Tell me.”

  She turns her head and blinks up at me shyly. But under those pretty, bashful lashes, her eyes simmer with lust. “Because I’m excited,” she whispers.

  “For what? My cock in your ass?”

  She nods.

  “Out loud, baby girl.”

  “For your big cock in my ass.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Fuck, she turns me on. That high voice saying unspeakable things is almost more than I can take.

  I shove my cock inside her again, harder this time. She moans. She’s walking the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain, and it’s like clinging to the edge of a cliff together.

  “Tell me what you like.”

  “I like it all,” she whispers.

  “No playing shy. Tell me why you like getting fucked in the ass by a beast.”

  The apples of her cheeks are bright red. I watch her lips move and relish every sexy word that comes from her mouth. “I like your balls stroking my clit.”

  “It takes big balls to do that. Big balls like mine.”

  I drive hard into her and her teeth rattle. Reaching around to her pussy, I feel her swollen, slick lips. “Mmmm,” she moans, dropping back her head.

  “Mmmm what, my dirty-talking girl?”

  “I want to come. My clit is aching for you.”

  “So good girls love to come, too?”

  “Yes, Sir, they do.”

  My whole fucking heart warms like a ray of sunshine. “I didn’t hear you,” I say, though I did. I just want to hear it again.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I smile. What she does to me.

  Fucking her ass hard, I play with her drenched little clit. It’s a stiff, swollen rosebud under my fingers, so tiny and sweet.

  “Feel good?”

  “So good, Sir. Please…don’t stop.”

  Her moans are still soft, but they sound different. They come from deep inside her, from her dark, animal soul.

  “I’m going to – Bram…”

  I lower my mouth to her ear. “Let go. Give it to me.”

  And she does. Her lower back curves and her legs spread wide. A sudden cry splits the air as she comes, and her ass grabs my shaft tight. God, she’s amazing.

  She’s still coming as I explode inside her. I fill her all the way to her heart. Nothing has ever felt so fucking good. So pure. So real.

  As I pull her into my arms, I want to tell her everything. Right now, tonight, I’m sure of one thing. There should be no secrets between us. We’re too close. I care for her too damn much.

  A war breaks out inside me as I kiss and hold her, and praise her for being such a good, strong girl. I’ll tell her now. There’ll never be anything between us again. Just peace and truth.

  But I carry her upstairs without saying a word. I bathe her and put her to bed and kiss her, and say I’m sorry. And she thinks she knows what I’m saying it for.

  Grace

  The morning of the party, I wake up with my heart in my throat. I sit up in bed and let out a nervous giggle. Every birthday I ever wanted and never had is finally here. All of them, rolled into one perfect day I planned myself.

  Bram has gone to the office for a few hours, then to the gym. He doesn’t want to see me until just before the party, when I’m dressed and the ballroom is ready.

  It feels like my wedding day. In a way, it is.

  This isn’t just a gathering for almost two-hundred of Bram’s closest friends. It’s a display of love and gratitude. Mine for him.

  It’s a way to thank him for saving me. For taking everything from me, and giving me back the world of my dreams.

  The chairs and tables arrive just after eight while I’m drinking coffee. For the first time in weeks, the sky is clear and bright.

  Mug in hand, I direct the delivery men around the ballroom. My mind is clear and my senses sharp. At first I think it was a good night’s sleep, but then I realize. This is me without grief. This is how it feels to return to life.

  The linen and china deliveries are next, and a few minutes later, the assistants I hired arrive. After showing them to the ballroom, I put them to work on each table. They bustle around polishing crystal and setting out plates. The white tablecloths sound like bird’s wings as they flutter open.

  Deliveries come all afternoon, bringing another piece of my vision. Once the caterers have set up the buffet tables and started preparing the hot food in the commercial kitchen, I take my first deep breath in hours. The servers are being body-painted in the dressing room. The lute players are tuning their instruments.

  I walk from table to table, sliding flatware a millimeter to the left or right. The wineglasses and gold-rimmed plates gleam. Everywhere I look, I see another token of luxury. Napkins edged with the images of nymphs and Greek gods. Vases wrapped in red silk ribbon. On each woman
’s charger plate is a feathered mask, each one unique and glittering with vibrant beads and crystal.

  I turn to go upstairs and get ready. I pause in the doorway, a glow of accomplishment swelling in my heart. This moment is my reward. Tomorrow it will all be over, but I will never forget how I feel right now.

  I look around the room and think that I’ve never felt such joy. Everyone always told me I’d be happy again, even though James was gone. They told me that someday I’d fall in love.

  They were right. I just never thought I’d owe that love and happiness to Bram.

  It’s the most beautiful night of my life.

  It’s everything I dreamed of. The room, the food, the crowd – everything is perfect. And so is the man in his beautiful dark suit.

  He loves my dress. He loves my red lipstick. He loves every detail, from the flowers to the servers in their body paint to the wineglass charms. When he came into the room for the first time and saw what I’d done, he walked up to me and whispered my favorite words in my ear. “Good girl.”

  He introduces me to so many guests, I lose track of names and faces. I meet people from Phantom and the bar Carol and Fritz own, old friends Bram grew up with and wealthy businesspeople I’ve seen on television. He makes me blush by telling everyone that I planned the party myself. He promises to send around my phone number and web address when I start taking clients.

  Best of all, no one seems to recognize me. I’m not “that girl” anymore. I’m just me. I’m Bram’s girlfriend, I planned this gorgeous event, and I’m the happiest woman on earth.

  Later, after dinner is cleared, I go to the dessert table to check on the display of cakes and truffles. Most of the guests are up and mingling again. I shiver with pleasure as eyes rake over my exposed skin and follow the long train of my dress. It would feel good even if I were alone, but to be with Bram, master of this house and my heart, is enough to make me cry.

  My smile trembles as a teardrop trickles over my cheek. Pure joy.

  “Hi, babe,” Coral says, coming up and hugging me. She wears a red empire-waist dress that shows off her gorgeous round stomach. She looks like a queen.

  “I’m so glad you could come,” I say. “How are you?”

  She tilts her head like it should be obvious. “Two weeks from my due date,” she laughs. “That’s how I am.”

  “Where’s your husband? I’m dying to meet him.”

  “He’s upstairs.” She quirks her eyebrows. “I thought I just saw you coming down.”

  I shake my head. “That must have been another half-naked girl in a white dress.”

  “No one’s mistaking me for anyone else. Not with this.” She cups her hands around her stomach. “The first thing I’m going to do after the birth is drink champagne.”

  “I’ll save you a glass,” I say.

  “Save me a bottle. Actually, two.”

  She kisses me. I watch her disappear into the crowd, her blonde hair flowing like part of the décor.

  I check on the desserts, then walk back toward my table. Ahead of me in the crowd, I catch a glimpse of long, auburn hair. It must be the girl Coral mentioned. No wonder she thought she was me. She’s my height, my build –

  I stop in my tracks for a second, then start walking again. Faster, this time.

  She winds through the throng, her slim form slipping between groups of people. In a sea of long gowns and flowing hair, it’s impossible to keep track of her. I think I’ve lost her when I see her at a table groaning under the weight of fruit and cheese platters.

  It can’t be her. It would ruin everything. To see her here, in Bram’s house, the only place that’s ever felt like home…

  I’m six steps behind her. I wait, sure it’s not her, praying that it isn’t.

  She turns to the side. She’s smiling. Destiny.

  My heart plummets. I feel faint and queasy.

  I duck behind someone’s shoulder. She doesn’t see me. She looks nervous, out of place in her jeans and turtleneck sweater.

  Why the hell is she here? Who brought her?

  A tall man with salt and pepper hair stands with his hand on her back. He must have been on the guest list. He’s still wearing his coat, like he just arrived. I never had Destiny pegged for a girl who’d go for older men, but she’s a woman of many faces. None of them authentic, apparently.

  I have to get a look at this guy. I wonder if he knows that his date ran from the scene of a shooting so her boyfriend wouldn’t find out. That she kept quiet while Bram spent millions on lawyer’s fees. That for two years she let me wallow in the fallout of her lies. Poor fool. Hopefully this is just a fling for him.

  Heart pounding, I wait for him to turn around. When he does, my world collapses under my feet.

  “Daddy?” I whisper. Then I turn and run.

  Grace

  Everything I thought was real is false. My life, all the things I thought were true.

  Morality. Goodness. Fidelity.

  I knew my father wasn’t a loving man, but I thought he was a real one. I thought he was aloof because his head was filled with moral questions. He wasn’t affectionate or even knowable, but he was virtuous.

  It was all a lie. A big lie I believed in, just like I believed in James.

  How can he be here? How can he be here with her?

  I run through the crowd, my dress flying behind me. Suddenly I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed that I created this beautiful gathering and poured my heart into it. I hate every blossoming flower, every flicker of candlelight.

  Tears fall in terrified droplets from my eyes. I want to escape who I am. I want a safe place to breathe as my world falls apart.

  I need Bram. I need the protection of his arms. Panic flooding my veins, I run to our table. The chair at the head is empty. I scan the room for him, but he’s gone.

  From out of the sea of laughing faces, I see my father again. He’s half a table-length away, his eyes like fire. Frozen in fear, I watch him walk toward me. I see no repentance in his face. Only the anger I once tried to convince myself was love.

  I turn and rush toward the arched doorway. Just as I get to the empty hall, an iron fist closes around my arm. In a brief moment of surrender, my muscles relax. I know that grip so well. It slapped my face and squeezed countless bruises into my skin when I was a child.

  He backs me against a wall and glares into my face. As our eyes connect, my heart stops. So do my tears.

  “Why are you here?” I ask in an even voice.

  “Why do you think?” he says. “I’m looking for my daughter.”

  I force myself to hold his gaze. “How did you find me?”

  “A police officer told me you came into the station with Bram Russell. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  “I don’t care,” I say. “I’m proud to be here.”

  His frown is deep and angry. “With the man who killed James? Do you hate yourself that much?”

  “It isn’t hate that led me here. It’s love.”

  He laughs his hard, staccato laugh. Forcing the quaver out of my voice, I square my shoulders. “Why did you bring Destiny, Daddy?”

  His burning eyes feel like an assault. “She offered to help look for you.”

  “Is that all?”

  He looks at me like I’m insane. “All? I don’t know what you mean.”

  He seems so sure of himself. I didn’t imagine the connection between them. I couldn’t have.

  “Do you know anything about her? Did she tell you she was with James that night?”

  “Smearing her won’t help you,” he says.

  I lean forward into his face. “There’s video, Daddy. She was in the car. She saw him get shot. She ran.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It doesn’t matter that she lied?”

  He looks disappointed in me. Disappointed, and tired. “Lying is so important to you, is it? Because if there’s video, then Bram lied, too.”

  I pause. He doesn’t understand. “But he t
hought – he did it to protect me.”

  “To protect you. Okay, Grace.” His grip is so tight my shoulder aches. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to take off that whore costume and put on respectable clothes. You’ll pack whatever possessions you have and come home with me. And when you get there, you’ll beg God and your mother for forgiveness.”

  “I’m not going anywhere but back to my party.”

  His face is ruthless. “You’re coming home where you belong. Right now.”

  “No.”

  “No?” The air is so tense I feel sick. “You know, I’ve been following the merger story quite closely,” he says. “I’m sure the people at Signet would be interested to know that Bram Russell kidnapped my daughter.”

  My body goes cold with horror. “No. You can’t.”

  “And imagine, Grace. What will the police say when they find out about the video? You know, the one Bram swore didn’t exist. I think that’s perjury, isn’t it?”

  I can’t even breathe. “Daddy, please…”

  “Before you say no again, think about the position you’ve put him in.” His eyes are pitch black. There’s no feeling in them, just dead rage.

  I feel myself dissolving under his fury. I was so strong this morning. I was sure I’d never feel fragile again. But I do. I’m the old me, and weaker than ever.

  “Why did you adopt me?” I have no fight left, just sad curiosity. Who is this man? How did my life end up in his heartless hands?

  He drops my arm with a look of disgust. “Go get your things. We’re leaving.”

  He turns, but I grab his shoulder. “Really, Daddy, why? Because you’ve never loved me. You never wanted me.”

  His gaze swivels back to me. The rage has turned to a deep, jagged pain. “Your mother did.”

  “What?”

  His face sags. Suddenly he looks old and broken. “Haven’t you figured it out by now? The reason she’s so sad?”

  I know I should feel something – dread or fear. But I’m numb to the root of my soul. “No.”

  His voice sounds distant, as if I’m hearing it through a fog. “We had a son.”