Modern Wicked Fairy Tales: Complete Collection

by Selena Kitt

  Mae flushed “I’m so sorry. My grandmother made plans, and I couldn’t—”

  “I was worried,” he admitted, interrupting as he got to his feet. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine.” She fit the key in the lock of her door, turning and pushing it open. “Come inside at least. Have some tea.”

  “Are you sure?” He peered into the apartment, hesitating at the threshold.

  Mae smiled, reaching out and catching the edge of his sleeve. “Come on. Please.”

  “Well, since you said please.” He shut the door behind him, watching as she turned lights on, taking off her coat and hanging it over a chair.

  “Make yourself at home.” She put the kettle on, knowing tea would keep her awake, but now that Griff was here she didn’t care.

  “You look like a goddess.” His words stopped her at the stove and she glanced over her shoulder to see him staring at her in the dress her grandmother had bought. It was white with a high neckline but a ruched bust and no sleeves, leaving her arms bare. It was actually quite reminiscent of the dress Fay Wray wore in the movie, and it had probably been intentional on her grandmother’s part, she realized.

  “Thank you.” She joined him at the table, still admiring him in his suit. They were in different territory now and she felt a shift in things. They were both trying to gain their footing in this new place.

  “So do you want to try again?” Griff suggested. She had the feeling he was trying not to sound hopeful, which just made him sound even more so. “King Kong isn’t going anywhere for a while.”

  Mae smiled and thought about lying, but that seemed like a bad way to start things off, so she told him the truth, that her grandmother had planned for them to go to the premiere as a surprise and she’d already seen the picture.

  “But I kept wishing you were there,” she said, hearing the kettle and rising to get it. “Lionel was a poor substitute, I’m afraid.”

  “Lionel?” he inquired, watching her pour water into cups, plopping in tea bags and bringing them on saucers to the table.

  “Do you want milk and sugar?” Mae stalled, kicking herself for mentioning Lionel at all.

  “No.” He stirred his tea, still looking at her. “Who’s Lionel?”

  “He’s a former business associate of my father,” she explained, reaching for the sugar and adding two lumps. “He thinks he has a buyer for my grandmother’s apartment. It’s not easy to find a buyer for the penthouse in the Century, given the market,” she explained quickly.

  “Oh.” Griff’s spoon slowed. “Well that’s good news.”

  “Is it?” She grimaced, putting the tea bag on her saucer.

  “No.” His answer was gruff and she looked up, seeing his jaw working.

  Sighing, Mae sat back in her seat, folding her arms. “I’ll be honest, I don’t mind leaving the city, but…”

  “But what?” Griff leaned in, elbows on her little table, closing the space between them.

  “Not what, exactly…” She met his eyes, those deep, blue familiar eyes, and told him the truth. “Who.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? She answered that one honestly, too.

  “You.”

  Griff got down on his knees. Mae stared at him, aghast as he knelt beside her chair. He was looking up at her from this position, so strange. This wasn’t just new territory, it was the entrance to a whole new world.

  “I’m going to do something right now that I really shouldn’t,” he informed her, taking both of her hands in his.

  “Please.” She didn’t know where she found her voice.

  “Please what?” He frowned. He was so close she could smell him, clean and fresh, like apples. “Please don’t?”

  “No…” She couldn’t finish her sentence or even her thought. He was too close; she was too full of him.

  “No?”

  Mae tried again, leaning in a little, giving him hope with her body language. “No, please…do. Do.”

  “I have to,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her and pressing his mouth to hers.

  Maybe it was knowing that this was all they could have, that she would be leaving with her grandmother, moving far from the city, and there would be no more stolen picnic lunches—but Mae thought, when thought returned hours later, that it went deeper than that. She gave herself to him because, at the core of her being, she knew she belonged to this man.

  He whispered her name, kissing the slender curve of her neck, licking the indented hollow of her throat, his breath so hot it burned her skin. She clung to him, his shoulders wide and broad under her hands. His mouth captured hers again, his tongue slipping between her lips, and she welcomed the deep, gentle exploration, lost in sensation

  The press of his body between her thighs parted them, hiking her dress up far too high for modesty, and when she felt the thick heat of his cock through his trousers she remembered to at least attempt to protect her virtue.

  “Griff,” she gasped, pushing at his chest, breaking their kiss. “We can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to…” She swallowed, seeing the hunger in his eyes, feeling his urgency. Flushing, she stammered over the words, “But if I get pregnant…”

  “I have something.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, flipping it open and pulling out a square she recognized, although she’d only ever seen one other one.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the condom. “Those are illegal.”

  “So’s alcohol, but you can get it in the speakeasies without too much trouble.” He grinned, putting it back into his wallet and shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “You just have to know where to go and have the money to pay.”

  “And it works?”

  He shrugged. “It’s better than Lysol.”

  Mae made a face. She’d seen the advertisements and had heard that douching with the stuff after relations would prevent an unwanted pregnancy, but just the smell of the stuff made her dizzy and sick. She couldn’t imagine putting it inside of her! Of course, there were a lot of things she couldn’t imagine putting inside of her, and the cock rising thick and insistent between her thighs was one of them.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t know what sex was or how it all worked—her girlfriends had talked extensively about it, and her best friend, Irene, had lost her virginity the year before with a boy at summer camp and had given her all the gory details—but she was more than a little afraid. Still, she’d never felt this way about any of the boys she’d been with, the ones she had fumbled around in the dark with, their hands groping, mouths open with sloppy kisses, like over-eager puppies looking for a treat.

  Griff was different.

  Mae stood, holding out her hand, and he took it, rising to meet her and take her into his arms. She felt instantly connected to him, even before he kissed her, his mouth practiced, sure, controlled. This wasn’t a boy, but a man. He could restrain himself if he needed to—even if he just wanted to. He wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do, and that made it safer somehow.

  “Come to bed,” she whispered, closing her eyes and letting him caress her neck and shoulder with his mouth.

  She felt him stiffen, hesitating, his teeth nibbling at her ear. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, putting her arms around his neck and pressing her breasts fully against his chest, hearing him gasp at the sensation. That filled her with an incredible sense of power and she wiggled in his arms, wanting more.

  “Oh god, Mae,” he murmured, and she squeaked in surprise when he swept her up into his arms, carrying her around the corner and shoving open her bedroom door. He pulled the shade and switched on the little lamp on her dresser, pulling her between his thighs and turning her around so he could unzip her dress.

  His hands moved over her shoulders, sliding the silk of the dress down her arms and letting the expensive material pool on the floor at her feet. She stepped out of her heels, feeling him lifting her slip, pul
ling it off over her head. Now she was undressed for him, down to just a bra, panties and stockings, and she turned to face him, seeing the lust in his eyes as his gaze swept over her.

  Griff was still almost fully dressed—he’d taken his shoes and suit coat off—when he kissed her down onto the bed and they rolled together, hands and mouths exploring. The twin bed was small and they barely fit together, but neither of them seemed to notice. She found herself impatient with his clothing, wanting to feel more of him, all of him, and she worked the buttons on his shirt as they kissed, rewarded with the heat of his chest under her hands as she slid it over his broad shoulders.

  They rocked together, her pelvis into his, separated by his trousers and her panties. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the growing friction and heat between her thighs, but Griff’s focus was further up, raining kisses over her cleavage as he worked the hooks on her bra. He groaned when her breasts spilled free into his waiting hands, his tongue making delicious circles around the dark coins of her nipples.

  Mae gasped and squirmed, arching toward him for more. She’d never felt anything so good and she couldn’t get enough, burying her hands in the thick waves of his hair. When he kissed his way down further, his tongue dipping briefly into her navel, she sighed in disappointment, wanting more of his mouth on her breasts, but then he settled himself between her thighs and, to her surprise, buried his face between them.

  “Griff!” she gasped, flushing with embarrassment, but there was no stopping him. He groaned as he pulled her panties aside, spreading her thighs wide with his big hands, leaving her totally exposed. She threw an arm over her eyes, hiding from her own shame, as his tongue delved deep into her cleft.

  It took just moments for her to melt into liquid pleasure all over the bed, giving into the pressing flutter of his tongue. The feeling was incredible, beyond anything she could have hoped for even on the nights she’d rolled restlessly around in her bed dreaming of him, twisting the sheets between her thighs and rocking into the sensation. She couldn’t have imagined anything like this, so soft and wet and sweet, a dizzying thrill with every pass of his tongue.

  “Oh!” she cried, her thighs trembling under his hands. “Oh! Oh! What—?”

  Something was happening. The world was tilting, coming to an ecstatic end right there between her legs, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Not only that, but she didn’t want to, she admitted shamefully, grabbing a handful of Griff’s hair and crying out with her pleasure as she shoved him hard against her flesh, grinding her hips up to meet the velvety lash of his tongue.

  “Oh my god!” she gasped as he kissed his way up her belly, pulling her quivering body to his, holding her close. “What was that?”

  He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “What did it feel like?”

  “An earthquake,” she panted, feeling the hot steel of his cock pressed against her hip. Curious, she slid her hand down to rub it and heard his sharp intake of breath.

  “I would move heaven and earth for you if I could,” he whispered, rocking against the press of her hand.

  “You did,” she breathed, daring to unzip him. “You do.”

  “Oh Mae.” He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed, when she found him, stiff and engorged, far larger than she had imagined. She touched him tentatively, her fingers brushing the tip appearing over the V of his zipper. “Here.” He took her hand in his, wrapping it around the length and guiding her movement up and down.

  “Like that?” she inquired, breathless, watching the look on his face, pleasure almost to the point of pain, as she stroked him.

  “Oh yes,” he agreed, leaning back on the bed and lifting his hips to give her better access. “Just like that.”

  She leaned on her elbow, moving him in her fist, watching the head of his cock play peek-a-boo with his foreskin as she began to pump a little faster. He bit his lip and thrust into her hand, matching her rhythm.

  “Does it feel good?” she asked, thrilled at the way he groaned in response, arching up to meet her. She hoped she was making him feel half as good as he’d made her feel with his tongue, and then a very naughty thought occurred to her. Irene had told her about petting with her boyfriend at summer camp, about all the things they’d done before she lost her virginity, and one of those things had been to put his cock into her mouth.

  Mae remembered being appalled and a little horrified at the time, but also more than a little curious, too. What did it feel like? She noticed the head of his cock getting wet as she stroked him, leaking at the tip. What did it taste like?

  “Mae!” Griff cried out in surprise when she leaned over and kissed the head of his cock, licking her lips and tasting the tangy, peppery liquid.

  “Is it okay?” she asked, lightly licking around the head, exploring the ridges with her tongue. He threw his head back with a low growl as she sucked just the tip.

  “Mae, wait,” he gasped, tilting up her chin and rubbing her mouth with his thumb. “It feels too good. I can’t stand it.”

  “Too good?” she smiled. “Is there such a thing?”

  He chuckled. “No. But I want to be inside of you, remember?”

  “Yes.” She felt a shiver of fear at the thought. “But…”

  “It’s all right.” He slid out his wallet, finding the packet and ripping it open. “We’ll be safe.”

  She helped him slide his trousers all the way down, undoing her garters and rolling her stockings down her thighs as she watched him slip the condom on. Wiggling her panties off, she spread herself like a sacrifice, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting.

  Griff moved between her thighs and she winced, gripping his upper arms as he poised himself above her. She expected him to do it quick, but he took his time, kissing her neck, nibbling at her ear, distracting her from her own fear. When his mouth reached her nipples, she whimpered, unable to concentrate on anything but the sweet sensation of wet tongue tracing hot circles around and around.

  A fire was burning again between her legs and she begged him to quench it somehow, calling his name as she bucked under his weight, wrapping her legs around him tight. She felt the hard length of him against her thigh and she stiffened for a moment, gasping.

  “Easy,” he urged, kissing her softly, his tongue exploring as he pressed her thighs open further with his own. She cried out against his mouth when he entered her, a brief, searing moment of pain paralyzing her in his arms. He kissed her cheek, her throat, whispering her name over and over, not moving inside of her.

  “Was that it?” she whispered, turning her face up to his, unable to really believe that she’d done it, she had given herself to him.

  “That was the worst part.” He kissed her forehead. “Now comes the best part.”

  Mae shivered as he began to move inside of her, his hips circling gently. The sensation was strange at first—she felt full to bursting with him—but the more they rocked together, the easier it became to open up and accept him. His cock throbbed between her legs, his breath coming in hard, hot pants against her ear, and she clung to him with all her might.

  “Mae,” he whispered, his voice catching. “Oh god sweetheart, you feel so good. I can’t hold back.”

  “Yes,” she urged, closing her eyes and lifting her hips to meet his, grinding her pelvis, feeling him move deep inside her. “Yes! Yes!”

  He groaned and gave into it, shoving himself in deep and shuddering with pleasure on top of her. She held him close, cradling his head against her breasts as he cried out and buried his face there, his whole body tense with his climax.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, collapsing onto her. She took his weight with a happy sigh, wrapping herself around him. She knew she should have felt ashamed at giving him her virtue, remorseful, even contrite, but she wasn’t. In fact, she didn’t remember ever being happier. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m perfect.” She smiled and brushed his hair tenderly out of his eyes.

  “Stay with me.” He sig
hed and closed his eyes, nestled between her breasts. “Don’t leave me, Mae.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She lifted his palm and kissed it, giggling. “You know, when you got down on your knees in my living room, I thought…” She laughed again, shaking her head.

  “What?” He lifted his head to look at her. “What did you think?”

  She flushed, admitting, “I thought you were going to propose.”

  “And what if I had?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious, but she shrugged and smiled. “I don’t even know your last name.”

  “It’s Griffon.” He pressed his cheek to her breast again. “My first name is George.”

  “Mrs. Mae Griffon,” she murmured.

  He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “It has a ring to it.”

  Mae felt a little thrill up her spine at his words, closing her eyes and stroking his damp hair. “Yes, it does,” she whispered, but he was already asleep.

  * * * *

  He liked watching her. Like most country girls who found themselves in city confines, she didn’t quite understand the new terrain. She lived as if she was still back home, surrounded by miles of farmland, the nearest house a fifteen minute drive away. He enjoyed her freedom, and with the help of a very fine and quite expensive pair of binoculars, because Mae never pulled down her shades.

  And she was a beauty. A little unrefined for his tastes, although her grandmother had clearly been trying to shine her up a bit. Of course, without her clothes who could tell? He was stunned by her freshness, the creamy white flesh of her belly exposed as she pulled her full slip off over her head, leaving just panties and one of those newfangled bras to cover her exquisite flesh. She didn’t wear a corset, and god knows she didn’t need to. Her figure was the perfect hourglass, ripe and full and so lush he swore he could feel the heat of her from a street away.

  She often stayed this way a long time, sitting at a little vanity, brushing her short, dark hair, removing her make-up, but eventually she would stand and unhook her bra, letting her breasts free, the nipples dark coins against her pale skin. He would focus his binoculars in as close as he could get to see how the flesh puckered in response to the sudden shift in temperature.