by Dani René
I lie back, tugging her over me. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” I question, and she nods. Her long black hair frames her face. Those deep, forest-colored orbs meet mine, sparkling with need, want, and affection, an emotion that leaves me breathless. Her chest rises and falls, and I can’t help feeling the need to lave at her sweet nipples.
She rocks her hips, and the heat of her pussy has me groaning. My hands settle on her hips, allowing her to sink onto me slowly, so fucking slow its torture. The tightness and slick heat of her is incredible. Better than anything I’ve ever felt. Her body hovers over mine, and her lips mold to my mouth. The kiss is slow, sensual, and before I can do anything, her hips roll against me. She’s so inviting. And with one lift of my hips I’m fully seated, as I slip inside the tightest pussy I’ve ever fucking felt.
My head falls back, and I groan in satisfaction at her body molding to mine.
I want her.
Only her. Fuck.
I’m so fucking fucked.
“Jesus, Mila,” I bite out as she rides me. My fucking sweet girl is on my dick, and all I want to do is make love to her. Fucking her once will never be enough. Nothing in my life has ever felt so good.
Even though I’m buried balls-deep inside her, I’m fucking jealous of the men who’ve been there before me. I want to fuck them from her memory. I don’t want any other man with her, and that feeling is so fucking foreign to me, I don’t know what to do with it. So, I shut my eyes and revel in the feel of her.
I drive into her, deeper, faster, harder. Reaching out, I find her clit, circling it with my thumb, I feel her pulse and tighten around me. I keep going, plunging into her, claiming her pussy. My body locks when her cunt clamps down on me and sends me spiraling with an orgasm that allows me even deeper inside her.
She cries out and soaks me in her sweetness. Lifting my thumb to my mouth, I lick her honey from it, and I know at that moment; I’m owned. I’m a fucking claimed man, and it’s all because of her.
All I want to do is tell her how I feel. To be honest for once in my life, but I don’t. I allow us this moment to be. Just be. I allow myself to have her. Because I love her. I’ll tell her later. For now, I bask in the afterglow of being with the woman I love.
“I know.” Gabriel stalks into the living room, and I can’t turn to look at him. I spent another hour enjoying Mila, and when she passed out, I laid her in the bed and placed a kiss to her forehead.
“You know what?” I question, sitting back on the plush sofa. My body is still tense from what I just did with my niece.
“I’m not stupid, little brother. You’re in love with her.” His words halt my movement of lifting the tumbler to my lips. “I can see the way you look at her,” he confirms nonchalantly.
“There’s no doubt I love her.” I shrug, hoping to steer him off the conversation, but he doesn’t bite.
“You love her more than you should. You look at her like a man possessed, Grayson. I’ve seen that look. It’s how I used to look at her mother. I loved that woman with all that I was, all that I am. When I first saw her, I knew.” He sips his whiskey and regards me seriously.
My brother and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but something between us shifts. It stills me, my mind and my heart, because he’s looking at me like a man would his equal. Don’t get me wrong. Gabriel has always been good to me when I wasn’t fucking up, but this is different. It’s as if he’s finally allowing himself to see that I’m a grown man and not a child.
Nodding, I respond calmly. “I do love her, yes. You’re right. Seeing her with other guys was difficult,” I confess, gulping my drink.
“Then you should stay the night and see where the day takes you tomorrow. It’s Saturday, so take her out, on a date.”
His words shock the shit out of me. “What?”
“You heard me,” he smirks. “She deserves a man who’ll look after her. And you know that if you ever hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to. Look, I know we’ve not had an easy relationship. Things were always strained because I just wanted the best for you, and of course you’re stubborn, but you’re a grown man, and I can see that she’s special to you. There’s no denying it, brother.” He finishes his drink and watches me intently.
“You’re really allowing me to be with her?” Incredulity is thick in my tone because somehow, I don’t believe he’s letting his little brother — the famous man-whore — get anywhere near Mila. He merely nods, and not giving me more, he pushes off the sofa and heads to the liquor cabinet. He pours another two-finger shot of the smoky whiskey.
“I am,” he answers, his back to me. I watch him down the whole shot in one swift gulp. “Don’t break her heart, Grayson. I’m warning you. If I see tears on her face, I’ll kill you.” With that, he turns to face me. “I’m going to bed. Take care of my girl.”
I’m left alone with my thoughts of what the fuck just happened.
Chapter 7
Mila
The sunshine streaming through the window wakes me with memories of last night running rampant in my mind. My feelings for Grayson slam against my chest painfully when I realize we were taking a step we couldn’t come back from.
I saw it in his eyes. He looked at me like that. It wasn’t the way a man would look at his niece. It was the way a man looks at the woman he could possibly fall for.
When my Uncle Grayson stares at me, his suave demeanor is full of his sexy smirk. It’s enough to unravel me, leaving me panting and needy.
I’m not sure what to do with it. Confusion clouds my mind, but when I feel a hand snaking around me, my body shudders at the tender touch. “It’s me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
“Grayson?” We’ve been on a first name basis for so long it comes naturally to me. What doesn’t, though, is opening my eyes and finding him here, in my bedroom.
His short, dark brown hair seems always to look like he’s just gotten out of bed. Thick, dark brows frame incredible, deep mocha eyes. Always with a light dusting of stubble on his angular jaw, which makes me quiver with need.
His lips are made for kissing, the top one with a beautiful bow shape, and the lower shaped in a way that makes me crave to bite it.
“Good morning,” I murmur, burrowing into his arms. My fingers trail over the bare skin of his chest, which is smattered with just enough hair to make him sexy and masculine, bare to my touch.
“You look so gorgeous when you wake up, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead, like he’s done time and again when I was growing up. Only this time, it’s different, more intimate. It’s strange to see him without a suit on. Since he runs the company with my dad, he’s always immaculately dressed in Armani or Gucci. Dress shirts that hug his frame and slacks that beg to be taken off.
Simply put, he’s a man-whore. Always has been. The fact that he’s in bed with me and not with some random woman from the bar makes me wonder what happened to change him so much.
We didn’t get to talk because I completely passed out. Four orgasms will do that to a girl.
“And you . . . Well . . .” My words taper off to silence. What do you say to a man you’ve just fucked? A man that’s not some stranger you met at a nightclub, but your uncle? Well, step-uncle.
“I’m Grayson. There’s no need for any more explanation.” He chuckles, and the sound rumbles through his chest, turning my core molten. That’s what he does, with just one smirk, one glance. Shaking my head, I turn, but he grips me tighter, pulling me against him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs against my neck, sending another wave of heat and desire through me.
“I need to get cof—”
“Here you go, Princess.” My stepfather walks in with a knowing smile. Something in his blue eyes twinkle and I wonder how two brothers could be more different. Daddy sets the mug down on the nightstand beside my bed and leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead, which is rather awkward because I’m near enough naked, even if there’s a comforter wrapped around me.
&
nbsp; Everything feels surreal.
I’m Alice, and I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.
Everything is fantasy, and I’m lying here in the cocoon of a man who’s feathering soft, sweet kisses on my shoulder. “You taste like honey. I think I need another sample,” Grayson growls in his thick accent behind me.
My eyes dart to Gabe, but all he does is offer a smirk.
“Dad.” My voice is strained with tension.
“No need for an explanation. I know everything,” Dad says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I nod, and his gaze darts behind me, and he gestures with his chin.
“I think Grayson needs a coffee refill.”
There’s something they’re not telling me, and I’m too wary of the silent gestures and flitting eyes to feel at ease.
Fear knots in my belly, and I wonder if my dad is about to kill Grayson. Or if he accepts what’s happened. Deep down, I hope he does, because I need to tell him, to explain that I love him with all my heart, but that I’m in love with Grayson. I have been for a long time; I just didn’t think he would see me that way.
Emotions squeeze my heart painfully, and breathing becomes difficult. I push up and tug the sheet to cover my bare breasts. Grayson silently gets out of the bed and heads to the kitchen, and I can’t help stealing a glimpse of his beautifully toned ass in those tight boxer briefs.
“Listen, Princess.” Gabe settles on the bed beside me and reaches for my hand. When I slip mine in his, he lifts his gaze to mine. “I spoke to Grayson last night, and . . .” Before he can tell me anything more, the man in question walks back into the bedroom with that confident stride like he’s the king of the world. And he could be — everything about him screams power and sex appeal.
“Am I interrupting?” he quips, and with a lift to the side of his mouth, he dons what I’ve now branded The Panty Dropper because god, I would drop mine if I were wearing any.
“I think you and Mila need to talk.” Gabe releases my hand, and my brows furrow in confusion.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” The alarm in my tone doesn’t go unnoticed by either man.
In tandem, they both respond with a confident, “No.”
“Okay, then someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on. You’re both acting weird.” I push off the bed, wrapping the large, gray sheet around my bare body.
“I’ll leave you to it.” He taps Grayson on the shoulder and calls to me, “See you later, Princess,” striding out of my bedroom with a chuckle.
Dragging my gaze to Grayson, I pin him with a glare. “Are you going to tell me, or are you going to stand there with that goddamn smirk on your lips?” I retort, only to earn myself a chuckle. So deep and sexy I can’t stop the pulse between my thighs.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ll tell you.” He sips his coffee. With his head tipped to the side, he saunters over to me, oozing confidence. One foot in front of the other, he nears me. When we’re only inches apart, he leans in so close I think he’s about to kiss me, but he doesn’t. His mouth whispers along the shell of my ear, “I’m taking you out today. On a date. So put some clothes on, before I fuck you right here against your bedroom window.” His drawl drips hunger, the same craving that’s swirling just below my belly button.
“You what?” My response is weak, just like my knees, and my head spins with possibilities.
“I’m taking you on a date,” he tells me calmly. Stepping away, his gaze holds me hostage.
“I don’t understand. I mean, we can’t just—”
“We can.” He sets his cup on the dresser, and his large hands cup my face, holding me close. “I want you. I’ve fucking fallen in love with you, Mila.” His confession hitches my breath and seeps into my chest, leaving me breathless. Dark brown, almost-black eyes pin me so painfully and beautifully that I can’t respond. Words don’t come when I open my mouth, and I’m reeling like I’ve just been winded.
My body is alight with emotion. A maelstrom of everything hits me all at once. Affection, need, and desire. Lust, hunger, and love, that’s it — at the forefront is love. Fuck.
“I . . .” My admission disappears in the air around us, hanging above us like a piece of mistletoe. He pulls me toward him, our mouths touching, so lightly it’s as if a butterfly’s wing is flitting across my lips.
“I love you, Mila. I’ve always loved you.” Honesty rings true in his words, and I recall a memory so poignant in our relationship it stills my heart.
“Hello, Grayson. How is my favorite uncle?” I answer my phone in a hushed tone. It’s almost midnight, and I’m sleepy. A year has passed since mom died, and we’ve slowly grown closer by calls and messages. So, this isn’t a surprise that he’s calling me. But this late?
“Hi, sweetheart, and I told you, don’t call me uncle. It freaks me out,” he groans into the phone, and I have to stifle the giggle that threatens to fall from my lips.
“Okay, okay, Grayson. Why are you calling so late?” I roll over. Pushing up, I sit with my back flush against the headboard.
“I missed you,” he murmurs into the phone, and the sound has me squeezing my thighs together.
“You’re calling at midnight because you missed me?” I question on a giggle, and a groan so low rumbles through the line, and if it weren't so quiet in my room, I would have missed it. My heart thunders in my chest, and I wonder if he would ever feel for me what I do for him. Would he ever want me?
“I did. Just wanted to hear your voice and say goodnight, sweetheart.”
The nickname he uses sounds so different when he says it tonight. So . . . Sexual.
Chapter 8
Grayson
“Grayson, I . . .” Her voice lowers. “I love you too.”
The words fall from her lips to mine, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Crashing my mouth to hers, I kiss her so deeply, so fucking hard, with so much affection, and I want her to know I’m not leaving. I want to tell her all the words I can’t say with this kiss.
All my life I’ve fucked around, I’ve had a different woman in my bed each night of the week, but right now, the only one I want is standing before me with those green eyes pinned to mine.
“So, will you let me take you out?” I question, hope flourishing when she beams and nods.
“Yes. I can’t believe this . . . Isn’t it weird?”
Shaking my head, I stare into her eyes for the first time in so long and respond with conviction, “This will never be weird. We’ve found each other for a reason, sweetheart. You are mine. Do you hear me?” Her gaze darkens, and my heart constricts painfully.
“I’m yours,” she agrees, but there’s something she’s not telling me. It’s written all over her face. “I’ve always been yours.” She peers up at me through dark lashes. “Will you join me in the shower?” Her lips lift into a wicked smile, and I know I’ll never say no to her.
Without a word, I grip her ass, lifting her against me, and her squeal is enough to have me rock hard. “I’m going to fuck you in the shower, and then we’re going out, okay?” She nods, her arms twined around the top of my shoulders and her face nuzzled in my neck.
In the en-suite, I set her down on the counter and turn on the shower, then turn to her. She’s completely bare to my hungry gaze. Her nipples pebble under my scrutiny, and I can’t help but feel proud of this woman that’s mine now.
At thirty-two, I’d never have thought I’d be with a woman of nineteen, but there’s no one else for me. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up.” Shoving my boxer briefs down, I glance at her staring at me. Her gaze rakes over me in the most seductive way, and I’m ready to fuck her senseless.
She hops off the counter and stalks past me into the shower. Her body is utter perfection, flawless with an ass I can’t wait to claim.
“You coming?” she taunts, glancing at me over her shoulder.
“I will be. So will you,” I promise, stepping under the spray behind her. Grabbing h
er shower gel, I squirt some into my hand. The scent of candy hits me. It’s her, so fucking her. Sweet, and so intoxicating I feel high just from the dollop in my palm. Lathering my hands, I place them on her shoulders, massaging and kneading the muscles.
A whimper falls from her lips and echoes in my ears. Running my hands down her arms, stroking and teasing until I reach her hips, and I see her wince. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She spins in my arms, and I glance at the word written on her body. “I love that tattoo.”
“It was for you,” she coaxes in a honeyed tone. Her finger trails a path from my belly button up to my chin, then slowly teases my lips. Swiftly, I snatch her finger between my teeth and bite down on a growl.
“Don’t toy with me, sweetheart. I’ll spank that little ass.” I release her finger and tug her against me. My stiff cock throbs between us. Shocking me, she reaches forward and grips my shaft, stroking slowly, while her eyes are pinned to me.
“And what if I enjoy the spanking?” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips as she purses them in a seductive pout. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. This woman is going to be the death of me.
“I’d count on you loving it. Then you’ll need a good fucking, and I’ll dole that out every fucking day, sweetheart.” I lean in and tug her bottom lip between my teeth, biting down, earning myself a sexy moan. “Is my sweetheart wet for me?” I question in a raspy tone.
“I’m drenched, Grayson, just for you.” Her breathy words are enough. Without answering, my hands find her ass, lifting her so both legs wrap around my waist. I walk her backward till she’s flush with the wall. The tip of my cock nudges her entrance, and I have to ease myself into her tight, slick pussy.
