Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1)

by Unknown

  “Yes, sir,” they say in unison, standing at attention, looking serious.

  ***

  The past couple of weeks was difficult, to put it lightly. It had nothing to do with my recurring nightmares. Josh had handled that with the sedatives he prescribed for me. It was my two-hour sessions with my therapist, Dr. Cambria, every night after work. I don’t even know how I got through the first week without breaking down, feeling guilty and ashamed of myself.

  Each time I walked into her office my stomach would turn into one big knot. I hated discussing the past, but I have to admit, though, the more I spoke of my demons; strips of the painful memories began to dissipate.

  Michael was a bundle of nerves, yet he was my solid rock. He came to my first appointment and held my hand during my session with the doctor. His face went taut as he heard how my marriage to Danny began.

  I had a few moments when I thought I was going to lose my fingers. He squeezed them so tight the blood circulation stopped at my wrist. After an hour of numbness, I finally regained sensation back to my hand.

  Josh was true to his word and kept lowering my dose of medication, but instead of once a week, he decided every four days.

  After the Thanksgiving break, I returned to work, showing off my beautiful ring to Blake, Joanne, Jonathan, Sean, and the rest of my co-workers. They both received a smack from me because Michael had confided in them about his proposal, and they never once hinted his plans to me.

  At Joanne’s request, we went gown shopping. We haven’t even set a date, and she has me out looking for gowns. At least I can relax as to where the wedding will be held—on the 4C Ranch, secluded within the heavenly forest God created.

  It is already the eighteenth of December, and I told Michael I wasn’t going to take a sedative, which helped me sleep through the night. He went frantic and all caveman on me, calling Josh in haste. Josh agreed with me, at least to try it for one night.

  Michael wasn’t happy. He argued with me, saying I’ve only been on them for few weeks. He had no choice except to go along with the plan.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Michael asks, looking for reassurance.

  “Yes, Michael, please. I don’t want to become dependent on these. I have to try. You’ll be here with me, won’t you?” I ask.

  “Well, of course, Ariana, where the hell else would I be but by your side?”

  “Yes, what was I thinking?” I say and kiss him.

  ***

  I’m lying on the comforter, swaying to the music “Someone Like You” by Van Morrison. I let out a screech when Michael grasps my ankles and pulls me down, leaving my butt at the edge of the bed. He stands over me, bare-chested, looking all Neanderthal, and smiles. “I have the perfect sedative to help you sleep tonight,” he rasps out with a devious expression on his face.

  I catch the gleam in his eyes as his mind swirls with his mischievous thoughts, and I’m getting excited. My heart rushes over to her treadmill to warm up, flashing a huge grin across her face. My insides go Jell-O waiting anxiously for the erotic sensation to explode.

  “Do tell,” I whisper.

  His eyes grow dark and seductive. “I’ll show you,” he answers and removes my panties and tank top. I gasp with excitement, and already the juices are flowing out with anticipation.

  He spreads my legs apart, standing between them, and his hands begin to touch my breasts gently. He bends down and pulls one nipple into his warm, inviting mouth, making me jump from the arousing pleasure. His other hand slides down my chest and over my abdomen, and two of his long, thick fingers slip into the wet folds of my sex.

  “Michael.” I gasp, and scream out his name, feeling the heat and tension rise in my body. He muffles my mouth with his lips.

  His fingers continue to slither in and out, side to side, in a circular motion, driving me into paradise. I wrap my arms around him, begging and pleading for him to enter.

  He pulls back, and I whimper. His mouth swipes over my lower lip and his tongue slowly licks its way down my neck, tasting and kissing. From there, he finds his way down to my abdomen, making me quiver with just the touch of his lips against my flesh. His mouth reaches my sex, and he slicks his tongue over my pink folds, sending me practically over the edge as he licks and nips, covering every area as his fingers continue to penetrate deep inside me, working their magic as his thumb massages my clit making me all wet and crazier. He moans against me, which adds to the sexual explosion I’m about to have.

  I jerk my hips up from the erotic sensation that shoots up from my groin through my body, leaving my heart to palpitate. “Ahhh! God, Michael,” I cry out. My head thrashes side to side, and I feel drunk and drugged from his tantalizing tongue and fingers as he sinks them deeper inside of me.

  I push my hips against his mouth, feeling his lips sucking my clit and fingers sliding in and out, over and over as the tension starts to build higher than it ever has. I let out one last scream before the orgasm of all orgasms takes over my mind, body, and soul.

  Michael climbs over me and sucks my tongue into his moist mouth while his fingers continue to enter me, feeling the shivers coursing through me in violent waves. I wrap my legs and arms around his muscular frame like a snake waiting for the last shudder to abate.

  He rests his head against my neck, kissing and sucking my skin.

  “God, Michael. You’re . . . amazing. I don’t think I could ever compete with that,” I whisper into his ear, still reeling from the orgasm.

  He chuckles and slowly lifts his head up. I gaze into his eyes, which are burning with pure hunger. “I’m not done with you, future Mrs. Grayson.” His eyes radiate with a never-ending want.

  I gasp as the moisture between my legs increases. I bite my lower lip, anticipating his next move. “I want to please you,” I whisper. I’ll do anything for this man.

  “You will, Ariana, don’t you worry. Remember what I said about wanting your pretty little virgin ass for myself?” He expresses with lust-filled eyes.

  The time has come, and my heart begins to race with triumph. He mentioned he would take things slow, but I don’t think I can wait. “I want all of you,” I say.

  His eyes widen in exultation and lust. “Are you sure?” He asks.

  “Yes, Michael. God, I would do anything for you. I love you so much. You always please me, and I want to do the same for you. Please,” I beg.

  Suddenly, he sits up and spins me around, my stomach to the bed, and he lifts my hips up, my ass facing him.

  “Ariana,” he says with a roar, hovering over me, his lips to my ear. “I’ll take it real slow. I’m going to get some lubrication.” He hurries off and is back in less than a minute.

  His warm hands rub up and down my legs, heating my skin and the blood in my veins. I start as he brushes his fingertips gently over my breasts, awakening them. He glides his palms down my torso and reaches over the small mound and plays with my clit. My body trembles and I gasp with a stuttering breath at the sensation.

  “I need to lubricate your ass and myself. I’ll be gentle. You tell me when to stop, agreed?”

  I nod, and his hand slaps my ass. I jerk up, surprised at how aroused it makes me.

  “That was for not answering me. Now do you agree?” He slaps me again, but harder.

  “Yes,” I yelp out. Oh God, I’m shocked on how much I enjoy the sting on my ass. “Michael, I really enjoy when you spank me,” I confess. I’m sure I just surprised the hell out of him, especially with my background, but those sweet, stinging slaps across my ass are enticingly hot.

  “You do?” He sounds surprised.

  “Yes,” I whisper, and the heat surfaces to my face, making me flush.

  “Well, if you behave, I’ll do my best to please my future wife.”

  “Make it a point,” I murmur, and the sweet words ‘future wife’ has me melting.

  His hands gently begin to massage my ass. His fingers lubricated, he gingerly strokes down between my cheeks, sending a chill up m
y spine. “I’m going to enter you with one finger and work my way to three. When I feel you can take me, you’ll have all of me. Don’t forget, if it’s too much, you need to tell me to stop.”

  “Yes,” I say.

  I gasp as his first finger enters me and repeatedly slides in and out, making my body quiver from the unknown bliss of pleasure. Another gasp escapes my parted lips when he enters the second finger, stretching me wider.

  “Ahhh!” I yelp from the unexpected spanking he gives me. Oh shit, his third finger just entered, and the pain begins to intensify. Oh God, oh God. I take long, deep breaths to get used to the fullness inside me. He has all three fingers penetrating deep within me and drawing them in and out, in and out, and my body can no longer hold on. I want to burst from the pain, but yet it’s pleasurable. How can I explain this wild sensation ripping through me? It’s so erotically arousing. Painful pleasure is the only way I can define it. I feel the juices oozing between my legs, my body starts convulsing, begging for more.

  “God, you’re tight, Ariana, so beautiful. I can’t wait to slam my cock into your sweet little ass. You stop me if I hurt you.”

  “Please, Michael, now. I’m ready for you.”

  “Are you sure?” He hesitates before he pulls his fingers out.

  “Yes please,” I beg. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. I need to feel him in my ass, hear his groans of pleasure fill the room. I want him to shudder over my body as he comes inside me. I crave pleasing him. He leaves for a moment, and I hear the hum of the water running. He must be washing his hands. He walks back in, and I feel his pelvis and erection against my back.

  I gasp as the tip of his cock enters ever so slowly. The thickness is nowhere near his three fingers. This is two or three times the size. He enters more of himself, and I blow out a breath of pain. I don’t know if I can do this. What was I thinking? This hurts more than the pleasure I was feeling earlier. He spanks me hard, bringing me out of the pain, and I’m overcome by the sweet, stinging sensation of the slap. He slaps me again, and again, making my head spin.

  He glides in further. “Ahhh!” I yell out. He stills. “I’m okay, don’t stop, please.” It hurts too much, but I can’t stop. I need to give this a chance. I’ve read in books that it hurts, but it feels so good the moment they’re inside you.

  “I’m halfway in, Ariana. You’re amazing, sweetheart. I love you so damn much.” He grunts out, and without warning, he sends me spiraling into an abyss of pain and pleasure as he slams into me with full force.

  I cry out from the sting and gratification he’s filling me with. Oh God, so much pleasure. My body begins to convulse, and the pain is no longer there. This is the most erotic decadence I have ever experienced. God, this feels so dirty, sinful, yet deliciously arousing and pleasurable. I want more.

  He continues to rock into me, making my body quiver with intense ecstasy. His thick cock rubbing inside the walls of my rectum is so damn erotic that I’m about to erupt. His hands grip tightly around my hips as his fingers dig deep into my flesh. Our minds, bodies, and souls begin to merge into one right before we come apart.

  “Oh, Ariana, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Your ass is glorious.” He hisses out. I feel the tremors vibrate from his body. He lays over me, panting for breath. “Oh! Damn it, Ariana, I’m going to explode.”

  I hear his sweet cries, and he screams out my name right before he comes inside me. He touches my clit, moving his fingers in a circular motion and plays with my left nipple with his other hand, killing me with such powerful sensations. I follow right behind him, screaming out his name with the most earth-shattering orgasm my body has ever experienced.

  “Oh God, Michael,” I yell out with stuttering breaths. I can’t see straight; everything is a blur. I collapse on the bed, inebriated, and he falls on top of me, breathless. I feel his tremors diminishing, as are mine.

  Minutes later Michael rolls off me. “Ariana, are you okay?”

  I turn myself around with a drunken sensation. “Yes,” I say, taking a few breaths in. “This . . . was . . . amazing, Michael. I never . . . I never thought this would feel so erotic, so hot, so good, and so mind-blowing.” I pull him down and kiss him hard on his lips.

  “Ariana, you’re incredible. I didn’t think you’d be able to take all of me.” He shakes his head. “I was worried.”

  “I love you so much, Michael. I would do anything to please you. Feeling you shudder and moan the way you did when you were in my ass was the biggest turn-on.” I kiss him again. I take a last stuttering breath, and exhaustion begins to set in.

  “Oh, Ariana, you can drive a man to insanity when you talk like that.” He kisses my forehead. “You look like you’re ready to pass out. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Yes, now let’s go wash up and get some sleep. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are as well after your vigorous workout,” I say, and he taps my nose and pulls away from me, and we head for the shower.

  Chapter 35

  Numb

  I’m startled out of a deep sleep when the alarm goes off. I open my tired eyes, moaning softly, the clock reading six thirty in the morning. I moan again.

  I stare at the huge figure next to me, wrapped around me as if he were a blanket, emitting a wealth of heat. His soft, even breaths fall against my neck, and his arm, built like Adonis’, gently rests over my waist. I take a deep breath and inhale his fresh, wholesome scent, provoking every nerve in my body.

  I shut my eyes, reminiscing of our erotic lovemaking only hours ago, and I begin to sizzle as an egg over a hot pavement in a hundred twenty degree temperature.

  I gasp with exhilaration as I realize something. “Michael, Michael, wake up.”

  He jumps out of the bed, overwrought. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asks with a panicked expression.

  “I slept through the night. I did it, Michael,” I say with joy, getting light-headed from the excitement.

  He pounces on me, hugging me. “Oh, thank God, thank God,” he cries out and smirks. “I may have to fuck your sweet little ass every night.”

  I beam with animation. A thrill shoots straight to my core. “Don’t tease me now, Michael.”

  His sweet, mesmerizing laugh echoes in the room. “Sweetheart, I’ll have dessert waiting for you tonight,” he whispers, pulling me close into his warm body.

  “I need to shower,” I groan, getting up from the bed.

  An unsettling sensation flutters around my belly. Oh, no. I dart toward the bathroom, and I lift the toilet seat up, collapse on the cold tile, and eject everything from my stomach, heaving several times thereafter. Sweat and shivers course through me in violent waves. I take slow, deep breaths to ease the queasiness and shakes rumbling over me. Maybe this is a reaction from not taking the medication.

  I hear Michael burst in like a cyclone. He rushes over to me and pulls my hair back. The faint sound of the faucet running hums.

  He places a cool washcloth over my face and neck, and my body is convulsing with tremors from the bile continually expelling from my poor stomach. When is this going to end? I have nothing left inside me.

  “Damn, Ariana, what happened? Do you think this is a side effect from not taking the medication?”

  “My . . . thought . . . exactly,” I utter out between bouts of vomiting, my limbs shaking. I can’t control this. This is awful. What is wrong with me?

  “We should get you to the hospital.”

  I shake my head, violently throwing up again. “I’ll be okay.” I manage to say, lying through my teeth. I’ve been getting sick after Thanksgiving, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon. Maybe I picked up some kind of bug while I was overseas?

  “Sweetheart, I don’t give a damn about your protest. I’m bringing you to the emergency room. I’ve never seen anybody vomit this much. You’ve been sick on and off since we left Texas.”

  I take a deep breath, waiting for the shakes and vomiting to abate. Michael kneels beside me, holding
me firmly against him, soothing me with a cold cloth over my forehead and wiping my mouth.

  “I’ll help you get dressed. I’m taking you in,” he orders.

  “No!” I yell out. “Michael, please, call Josh okay. I’m tired of hospitals. I don’t want to see one for many years to come.”

  “Fine, let me get you into bed first.” Michael picks me up off the floor and carries me into the bedroom. I’m not going to argue. I’m too weak to even move.

  ***

  I must have dozed off because when I open my eyes Josh is sitting at the side of my bed. “How long have you been here?”

  He smiles. “Not long, sweetheart. I arrived five minutes ago.” His face is as handsome as his brothers’ but with softer, more soothing eyes.

  “How’s your stomach, Ariana?” Michael asks, standing near the glass wall looking out onto Lincoln Center.

  “Michael, if you don’t mind leaving the room, I’d like to examine Ariana,” Josh orders with a soothing tone.

  Michael’s expression is undecided. He takes a few steps and stops. He opens his mouth to make a comment.

  “Michael, please. He’s your brother. I’ll be in good hands,” I say, consoling him.

  “Fine.” He walks out like a boy who has been scolded.

  Josh turns to me after shaking his head with a grin. “Ariana, when was your last period?”

  I’m caught off guard, taken by a whirlwind of surprise at his question. “Why would you ask such a thing? Michael and I have been very careful. We used protection.”

  He nods with a smile on his face. “Yes, Ariana, but nothing is full proof, you may have gotten pregnant. I suspected this back in Texas.”

  I gasp and sit up in bed. “No! Impossible,” I exclaim. Oh God, how is Michael going to react? What if Michael doesn’t want the baby, or maybe he’s not prepared to become a father? Oh shit. Am I ready to become a parent? Will I be a good mother? I blow out a long breath, trying to absorb the possibilities.