Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

Maybe it’s all in my head. I’ve always been a dreamer. However, I hope he feels it, too. I just wish he would say something out loud.

  Instead, he communicates with his mouth. His hands. His groans. His arousal is hot against my center, making me wish we didn’t have to attend this event. It would be so easy to unzip his trousers, slide the silk of my thong to the side, and let him enter me in a swift thrust. The results of our fucking are the problem, as I don’t want to meet his mother and sister with his cum dripping down my thigh.

  Hmm, although…

  I pull my lips from his, kissing a path down his neck before going to my knees between his sprawled thighs.

  “Cyn,” he whispers, a warning in his tone that ends on a hiss as I unfasten his pants. “Fuck.”

  “We can’t.” I allow him to hear my disappointment, then guide the zipper down. He’s not wearing anything underneath, an intriguing fact that brings a smile to my lips as his cock slips free. “But I can do this.”

  I take him into my mouth before he can fashion a response, his fingers threading through my hair near the base of my neck.

  Praise-filled curses fly from his lips, my name wrapped up in a handful of incoherent sounds.

  I’ve learned what he likes, and I employ that knowledge now, giving him everything he needs with my mouth, tongue, and palm. He’s hot against my hand, the veins along his shaft pulsing between my lips.

  He’s already close, and I love that it’s my ministrations that brought him here. My kisses. My lead. My need to see him pleased.

  “I’m…” The rest of his statement trails off as I squeeze him tighter.

  No warning is needed.

  I already know.

  And I’m ready to drink every spurt that hits my tongue.

  His grip tightens as a deep, masculine groan fills the interior and skates goose bumps down my exposed arms. I will never tire of that sound. Or of him. Or this.

  Kellen’s hot essence pumps into my mouth, my throat working him over as I swallow each drop as if I require his pleasure to survive. He’s practically panting by the time it’s done, his hand firmly affixed to my neck to the point where I suspect he’ll leave a mark. And I’m okay with that. I want the world to know he owns me.

  “I have no idea what I did to earn that, or you, but I’m forever grateful,” he breathes, his head falling to the back of his seat. “Because fuck, Cyn, that was… phenomenal.”

  His praise warms my skin, causing my lips to curl. I carefully zip up his pants, very aware of his still-mostly-hard shaft. My lips brush the head one final time before I button him up, then I fasten his belt and climb back into his lap. His cheeks are flushed in the dim lighting of the interior, his dark eyes smoldering behind the mask.

  “You continue to amaze me,” he says.

  He kisses me before I can reply, his hand sliding up my thigh into the slits of my dress before finding the soaked fabric between my legs. Pulling it aside, he dips his finger into me while his thumb glides up to my clit.

  “Kellen,” I breathe, primed to explode from that initial touch.

  “I want you to come all over my hand, Cyn. The same one I’m going to keep pressed to your back all night through every photograph and meeting, just to remind you that you’re here with me and no one else.”

  Oh, the possession in his voice is nearly enough to send me flying over the edge.

  But it’s the graze of his teeth along my lower lip that does it.

  Only this male can shoot me to the stars this fast, his mere touch enough to send shivers of excitement over my skin and bring me to orgasm in so short a time.

  I explode, his name falling from my lips with an emotion trailing swiftly behind it. But I clamp my teeth down, refusing to let the words leave.

  I can’t love him.

  Not yet.

  We’re just having fun.

  This is casual.

  It has to be.

  Except it hasn’t been casual at all from the initial moment we met.

  My forehead falls to his shoulder, my body shaking as I come down off the high of an orgasm I hadn’t realized I needed. He removes his touch, bringing the fingers to his lips to lick them clean while I watch from the corner of my eye.

  It makes me hot all over again.

  But the limo is beginning to slow, indicating our approach to the conference center hosting tonight’s event.

  “I love how you taste,” he murmurs, his eyes closing as if savoring my flavor. “As soon as we’ve made all our rounds, I’m taking you home to devour your pussy all night in my bed. You’ll be screaming well into the morning hours.”

  I quiver in response, my lips curling in a lazy smile. “You’d better mean that, Mr. Knight, or I’ll hold you accountable later.”

  “Mmm, I hope you do.” He nuzzles my throat, then pulls me into another kiss that mingles our arousals together between our mouths.

  Perfection, I think, still unable to believe this is my reality.

  But it quickly becomes all too real as we enter the line of limos waiting to drop off their passengers before the array of cameras ahead.

  I swallow, my heart skipping a beat.

  When Kellen mentioned the location for tonight’s event, I hadn’t given it much thought. Seeing it now, I’m hit with a dozen memories of the last social event I attended with my parents. One month before my mother passed.

  “Don’t worry, princess,” Kellen says softly. “Stick with me, and the press will be a breeze.”

  He’s completely misread my reaction. Not that I blame him. While I’ve spoken about my parents a little over the last month, I never divulged more than necessary. He could have no way of knowing what this place signifies for me.

  Breathe, I tell myself. It’ll be fine. Make a new memory. Enjoy Kellen’s company.

  Yet something tells me it won’t be that easy. My stomach and insides are laced with dead weight and an awful sense of foreboding.

  It’s all in your head, I think.

  However, no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t seem to believe it. Because somehow I already know my fairy tale is about to come to a very abrupt end.

  Chapter 16

  Kellen

  After the stunt Cyn pulled in the back of the limo, I almost told my driver to turn the car around and take us to my penthouse so I could rip that dress off her delectable body and devour her until one of us passed out.

  To be honest, the option is still on the table.

  However, I admit to having ulterior motives for walking in with Cyn on my arm. The last month and a half have been surreal. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy, and it’s not just the constant sex that’s etched a permanent smile on my face. It’s her. It’s her scent on my pillow when my eyes close and the promise of seeing her face when they open.

  We’ve been careful not to slap a label on what’s happening between us, but I’m done pretending I don’t want the one thing I’ve run from with every other woman.

  Commitment.

  The word used to strike fear in me, but I’ve found myself rolling it around on my tongue more and more lately. Partly because the thought of Cyn touching, kissing, or, fuck, being with anyone else, drives this newfound jealous streak to the edge of crazy.

  I don’t know what love feels like. I’ve never stayed with anyone long enough to find out. But if it’s not being able to concentrate at work because she’s all I can think about, then I’m in love. If it’s wanting to drown in her every time she looks at me, then I’m in love. And if it’s knowing I’ll never want another woman as long as I live, then I’m so fucking in love it’s pathetic.

  So yeah, I have an ulterior motive for bringing her here.

  It’s time for the world to know Kellen Knight is off the market.

  Permanently.

  Cyn flinches as a quick succession of flashes goes off all around us. Pulling her close, I tuck her arm into mine and brush my lips across her ear. “Breathe, Cyn.”

  She gives
me a weak smile and nods, her eyes darting from camera to camera. Her anxiety is palpable, but I’m used to them. This is my life, and the paparazzi are nothing but white noise I’ve learned to ignore.

  I tend to forget how overwhelming this all can be for someone who isn’t used to living their life under a microscope.

  “How do you deal with this?” she whispers. “They’re all so pushy.”

  I smile and nod politely as we make our way down the carpet. “The trick is to treat them like bees.”

  “Bees?” She tilts her chin up, a deep line sinking in between her eyes.

  I have an actual point here, but her momentary distraction is a fringe benefit. “Bees are going to swarm—it’s in their nature. There’s nothing you can do about it. However, the outcome all depends on your reaction.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “If you swat at them, they’re going to sting.” I search the crowd, my gaze landing on Oscar Giordano. A piece of work I had arrested a year ago for setting up a telephoto lens in the building directly across from my terrace.

  I’m surprised he’s here. If my mother knew, she’d have his balls skewered and served up on an hors d’oeuvre platter.

  So of course I navigate toward him.

  It takes less than five seconds for his pudgy arm to shoot into the air. “Kellen Knight, over here.”

  Suck my dick, you arrogant fuck.

  “Kellen!” he shouts. “Who’s the new woman on your arm?”

  I tighten my hold on Cyn, unable to hold back a smirk as we stroll right past him.

  “Prick,” he mutters. “Like I need another reason to print what an asshole you are.”

  His voice is low, but not low enough. Cyn’s eyes widen, her chin snapping over her shoulder just in time to catch Oscar’s one-finger salute. She turns back in horror. “Did he really just call you an asshole?” she hisses under her breath.

  Of course he did.

  “Yep, and now he’s going to write misleading trash about us.” I quirk an eyebrow, and her mouth rounds in shock.

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  I lift a shoulder. “No, but it comes with the job. However, my point is, he’s like a bee. When I swat, he stings.” As we make our way toward the end of the carpet, I spot a young blonde woman in a simple ponytail watching the procession in awe. It really is too easy sometimes. “On the other hand,” I say, shifting our trajectory again while slowing our steps, “if I simply accept that they’re buzzing around our heads and let them have a little bit of nectar, they go back and make honey.”

  Take the bait…

  “Kellen Knight!” Blonde Hair pops up right beside me, a nervous smile plastered across her face. “Hannah Parker with the City Journal. May I have a moment of your time?”

  Gotcha.

  Pausing, I flash her a wide grin. “Of course, Miss Parker. What can I do for you?”

  The young woman blinks, seemingly in shock that I didn’t ignore her polite request like every other overprivileged asshole parading down the red carpet. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to actually respond.” Spinning around, she taps the shoulder of the man standing beside her. “Harvey! Picture!”

  He rolls a lazy glance our way. When his eyes land on me, they spring wide open, and his camera fumbles in his hand. “Shit!”

  Hannah pastes on a dazzling smile and shoves a recording device in my face. “Mr. Knight, this is always a special night for you since your mother is on the board of the Break Through Barriers Program. You must be proud of its success and outreach.”

  Same old, same old. I could give interviews like this in my sleep.

  However, I keep smiling my fake smile and give them shitty canned answers they’ll eat up with a spoon. Why? Because it just reinforces how amazing I think I am, which is the image I represent. “Obviously. I believe in the program and urge all those attending and those reading your column to open their hearts along with their wallets. However, those aren’t just words. I fully intend to put my money where my mouth is with a million-dollar donation.”

  I look down at Cyn, who’s wearing the first sincere grin on her face since we got out of the car, and I want to earn my own smile from her. “Not only that, but I will also match any donations made in your name, Miss Parker.”

  I stifle a smirk as both Hannah and Cyn gasp.

  “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Knight. My readers will be very inspired,” Hannah sputters. I give her a courteous nod, turning to leave, when she calls out, “May I ask who your lovely date is tonight?”

  I don’t hesitate. Not one damn bit. “I’m honored to be in the company of Miss Lucynda Ellis.”

  Cyn flinches while Hannah beams the way she should because I essentially handed her a promotion.

  She just uncovered the first woman to grace Kellen Knight’s arm in public.

  She’s a goddamn superhero.

  But Cyn feels like a piece of petrified wood in my arms, so I quickly usher her inside and toward an ivy-covered column near the entrance of the ballroom for a moment of privacy. “Are you all right?”

  That’s a rhetorical question. Clearly, she’s not. She looks like she doesn’t want to be here. More specifically, she looks like she doesn’t want to be here with me. The moment I spoke her name to the reporter, she shut down.

  Great. Here I am on the verge of asking for a commitment, and she appears to be looking for the nearest escape route. Karma’s a nasty bitch.

  “I suppose I’m the nectar tonight,” she says, glancing back at the herd of reporters still hovering outside the front doors.

  Nectar? What the hell is she…? Then I remember my whole insect analogy and want to kick my own ass. Fuck. She thinks I handed her name to the reporter on purpose.

  Because she’s an Ellis.

  How the hell did this get so twisted so fast? “No, Cyn. I just—”

  “Fashionably late, as always.” We both spin a complete one-eighty and come face-to-face with the most amazing woman with the shittiest timing.

  “ ‘Arrive late, leave early.’ Isn’t that what you always say, Mother?”

  Rachel Knight looks radiant in a stunning red gown and a vibrant gold mask. It’s nice to see her wear colors again instead of drowning herself in mourning black all the time.

  Leaning down, I press a warm kiss to her cheek, and she chuckles.

  “I say a lot of things, darling. Why should you start listening now?” I open my mouth to respond, but her attention is already on the woman by my side. “I’m sorry. You must forgive my son’s manners. I blame his father’s side of the family.” Her red lips part in a dazzling smile as she extends her hand. “I’m Rachel Knight.”

  “Lu…” Cyn swallows the remaining two syllables and offers an apologetic smile while shaking her hand. “Cyn Ellis.”

  “Ellis…” My mother furrows her eyebrows, and I can see the dots connecting in her head. “You’re Archibald’s daughter,” she says, her eyebrows shifting upward as she makes the realization. “My, but you are the spitting image of your mother.”

  Cyn forces a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “Thank you.”

  I frown. What is going on here?

  “Your parents were strong supporters of the Break Through Barriers Program,” my mother says softly. “And I knew your mother rather well. My condolences on her passing. She’s was an amazing woman.”

  “Thank you,” Cyn repeats awkwardly.

  Right. Time for a subject change, as this one is clearly upsetting my date. “Looks to be another great turnout.” I motion around the packed ballroom. “Dad would be really proud.”

  My mom takes the bait, her lips twitching as a watery haze coats her gaze.

  Bull’s-eye.

  “Yes, well, he always gave back,” she laments, dropping her chin and brushing her palms down the front of her gown. “I’m just continuing his mission.” There’s a moment of silence as she composes herself. I feel like a dick for poking a stick at my mother’s raw emo
tion, but it was either hers or Cyn’s.

  Mothers have to forgive you. Women you’re sleeping with who may or may not want more?

  Not so much.

  Clearing her throat, my mother glances up again, her gracious smile firmly back in place. “Speaking of a mission doing well, I heard the launch for the Glass Sliver is right around the corner. Victor tells me the commercial is going to break the internet when it airs.”

  Nice segue, Mom.

  I nod. “Speaking of the commercial, Cyn here is my leading lady.”

  There. Shot one fired.

  Cyn doesn’t react, that plastic smile still plastered across her face. Hopefully, my mother reads between the lines.

  Her eyes bounce between the two of us, finally settling back on me. She holds my gaze for a heartbeat or two before allowing a knowing smile to cross her lips. “Well, I can’t wait to see it. From what I can tell, it’s exactly what the company needs.”

  Before I can try to decipher my mother’s cryptic words, her assistant appears by her side, earpiece in place and anxiety on full display. “Mrs. Knight, your speech is in ten minutes.”

  “Duty calls. Cyn, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to chat more later.”

  “Of course.” Cyn genuinely looks like she means that, which not only relieves the pressure building in my chest but also brightens my mother’s already pleasant smile. “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Mrs. Knight.”

  “Call me Rachel, please.”

  What the hell just happened here? She’s never said those words to any of my friends—male or female.

  I’m still trying to determine what it all means when she leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t screw this up, son.”

  Shocked, I watch her walk away as Cyn swipes a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter heading toward the ballroom. She gulps it down like water and is still clinging to my arm, only now her fingernails are digging into my skin like five tiny knives.

  I study her pinched face as she drains what’s left of her glass. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I drove here with a wild tiger and walked in with a spooked kitten.” And I have no idea why. “Cyn, talk to me. What’s—”