A Sorta Fairytale (6 page)

I don’t say what I want to say.
Why I wish I could blend you and Thomas together, because then everything would be perfect.
Matter of fact, it would be a fairytale.

If it were a fairytale, everything would work out the way the reader wants, but life isn’t that. It’s not even close. Quite frankly, it’s bullshit. It’s filled with disaster and ugly tears and heartbreak and the shattering of a soul…and sometimes it can’t be fixed.

Sometimes you just have to pick up and move on from that brief moment in time. Move on from that complete, epic failure, and hope…hope someday it will get better. Because in the end that’s all we have to hold on to. The hope that it will change and it will work out for us. That maybe our story won’t get a Happily Ever After right now, but we have to wait just a little bit longer than others.

That at fifteen years old we aren’t saved by a prince or awakened from biting into a poison apple. Because that doesn’t exist. The love does…hopefully…maybe. And maybe with the right person, fighting for everything to keep them, but it doesn’t happen in the hundreds of pages an author writes.

Sometimes it happens later on.

Yet even when it does, it doesn’t happen the way you expect.

It never does.

Usually, it’s the complete opposite…with a twist.

You sigh. “Don’t let it scare you.”

“What do you suggest I do then, Alex?”

“I suggest,” you pause, “to just go with the flow. Hang out with me. Just…spend some time with me. There are no hidden agendas or other obligations. Just spend some time with me, and I don’t care if I sound like a complete idiot practically begging, but I am.”

I nod. “Okay.” And going against everything, obeying the third rule, I accept Alex’s friendship.

Chapter 9

Stella & Thomas

“I can’t wait to see you later,” your deep voice breathes into the phone.

It sends shivers down my spine, and a wetness pools between my thighs. “Mmm.”

“Fuck,” you growl. “Please don’t moan.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because it makes me want to fuck you. It makes me think of when my cock is pounding deep inside you, making your walls tighten, feeling your rush of release. Your moans in my ear or your head buried in the pillow. Fuck, I need to stop.”

“Why do you need to stop?”

“Because I want to fuck you.”

“Patience, grasshopper,” I say. “You will have me later.”

“Not good enough.”

I laugh into the receiver while I try to apply a gold eye shadow. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Fuck, no,” you grumble. “But I will be better off knowing I’m inside of you beforehand.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I tease, closing the container and grabbing mascara. “You’ll be fine for a little while…at least until we’re in the limo.”

“On the way there?” you ask excitedly.

A smile grows on my face. “Hm?” I contemplate. “Perhaps.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.”

“Oh, really?” I continue putting on mascara.

“Stella?”

Putting the phone on speaker, I set it down on the night stand and grab the hot hair curler. I glance over at the time. “Shit,” I mutter. I couldn’t believe how long I was with Alex, and I almost forgot about the function tonight.

“What?”

Sighing, I say, “I just didn’t realize the time, that’s all.” There’s a pause. The pause I knew has been waiting to come for a long time. I know you must think something is going on.

“Stella. Do you have something to tell me?”

“I figured I’d tell you later on.”

“What do you need to tell me?”

Your voice is filled with…rage. I didn’t think that would be there. I thought excitement, pleasure, but certainly not rage. That was the last thing on my mind. “I found someone.”

Clearing your throat, you ask, “What’d you say?”

“I said,” I pause, “I found someone else.” I try not to let the quiver in my voice be so apparent, but for some reason I’m nervous. I don’t know why. I never get nervous with you. I almost forget the steaming hot curling iron my hair is wrapped around. “Fuck,” I mutter again before quickly releasing my hair from the stern grip I have on it. Setting down the iron, I grab the hairspray to spray the section off.

“So you found someone?”

I’m surprised when you don’t have any spirit in your voice. “Why are you acting like this? I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I’ll be there in a few minutes. The driver got to my loft earlier than I expected. So I will see you then.”

“All right,” I say before hanging up. I glance at myself in the mirror. I thought this was what you wanted. I was fine with just you, but you wanted me to find another, and now you’re sulking? Fuck this. The buzzer goes off and my stomach plummets. Hesitantly, I walk to the door to buzz you in. I know it’s you. No one else knows where I live. Not even Alex. After spending our time at the bakery, we went our own separate ways. No other discussions. No plans for next time. Just a ‘see you later,’ which I liked. I stand at the door with my hand on the knob. Why am I scared? I shouldn’t be scared. I listened to everything you said. You have been badgering me about this last rule for two years. Now finally I’ve found someone and…nothing. The complete opposite. I thought you’d be elated. Almost like finding out I’m not pregnant with your child or something to that extent.

“Stella, let me in,” you demand, knocking at the door.

I take a step back, afraid of the tone in your voice. You’re mad, which is unlike you. At least regarding me. In the courtroom? It makes sense. You scream and yell at the defendant. You make them sweat. Make them piss their pants. You make them wish they were dead. But now being on the other side of the voice, I’m terrified beyond words. “Yes?” I ask, opening the door. I don’t get an answer. Instead, you walk in and close the door, not looking away from me. It makes me cringe. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, not from excitement but from terror. “Thomas?” I have to clear my throat because I choke your name out.

“What’s his name?”

I sigh. “Alex,” I mumble.

When I say Alex’s name, you grab me by the hips and pull me to you. I gasp when I feel your cock against my belly. “Feel that, Stella?” you growl. I drag in a heavy breath. I’m stunned. I don’t understand what’s going on. Are you mad? Are you turned on? “Answer me,” you demand.

“Y…yes,” I stammer. I’ve never been like this with you. Scared. I feel like a virgin. Not knowing what to do, how to act, how to move and sway my hips. This is a brand new side to you, and I’m not sure how to behave.

“This cock is yours,” you snarl while pushing me backward against the wall. I stand motionless, still not knowing what to do. You release me and step back, putting your hands on the fly of your pants. I hear the zipper. I know what’s coming. Your cock pops out, hard and ready for me. I try to fight it, just this once, because I still don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t. It’s useless. My belly tightens, nipples harden, breath hitches, and my thong is getting wetter by the second. You pin me in place me with piercing hazel eyes. You grip your cock firmly and begin to move your hand up and down.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” You ask with a chuckle. “I want to fuck you, but I want to make sure you damn well know whose cock makes you come. Whose makes you squirm and scream and fill with absolute pleasure beyond repair.”

“It’s you,” I say without a doubt in my body.

“How can you be so sure?”

I smile wickedly and drop to my knees. Not looking away, I tap the hand away from your cock and lick my lips. “Because,” I purr as I drag my nails along the little curls around your cock. I know you like that. You say it feels good, and I’m glad. For a second I look away from you and toward your cock. It’s practically begging to be licked and sucked, fucked, and for me to come all over it. My mouth waters, and I know exactly what to do with it. I grab the base of your cock, placing it to my lips. Opening my mouth, I let the saliva fall down your cock, moistening it.

“Fuck,” you grunt while thrusting your hips into my face. “Fuck my cock, Stella,” you order.

But I lean back. My back arches, lips turn into the mischievous, sexy smile I know you like so much. “Uh uh,” I sing. “Not. Yet.”

“What do you want?”

My smile grows. “What do I want? I want to tease you the way you tease me. I want to get you right on the edge of pleasure and then not allow you to fall over.” I can’t hold back now. I lick from your balls to the tip of your cock, and your roar excites me. I know I give you the best head. You’ve mentioned it…once or twice. Grabbing the base of your cock, I squeeze and move my hand up and down slowly while saying, “You can fuck me endlessly. You can make me squirt. You can make me scream your name. I awaken sore from you and still want to be filled with your long. Hard. Shaft.”

“You better fuck my cock, or else,” you threaten while trying to pull my mouth onto your hardness.

Again, I lean away. This time I laugh. I like the role I’m playing. I like making you angry. I like torturing you and teasing you, and I think a part of you likes it too. Because if you were beyond rage, you would’ve yanked me up and fucked me before I started this. “Or else what, Thomas?” I ask before running my tongue along the slit at the head of your cock. We don’t look away from one another, which I know you like. You always look at me, watching as my mouth fills with cock and balls.

“Or else I won’t fuck you.”

Your comment causes me to laugh, hard. “Why, Thomas. I think you want to fuck me even more than I want to fuck you.”

“I always want to fuck you, Stella,” you say, leaning down. Pulling me up, you take my wrist and pull me into the bedroom. I try not to smile, because I don’t want to show how pleased I am with you in this moment. Turning the light on, you lift me up and toss me onto the bed.

Pushing the hair out of my face, I look up at you through hooded eyes. “What do you want, Thomas?”

Kicking your shoes off, you laugh. “What do I want?” You pull your socks off and toss them to the side of the bed along with your shoes. Swiftly unbuttoning your jacket and pushing it off, you say, “I want to fuck you, of course.” Walking over and dropping the coat on the end of the chair, you look back toward me with piercing, fully dilated eyes. “And I’m going to.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

I watch you unbutton your shirt. My smile grows when I see your curly, little chest hairs. There’s something about seeing hair on a body. Not a lot, but some. It’s sexual and reminds me I’m with an adult. “I’m not fucking you,” I counter.

“That’s fine, because you aren’t going to fuck me.” You continue to unbutton your shirt until it’s hanging on your beautiful, sculpted body. My belly clenches when I see the thin trail of hair making its way from your belly button down to the hardness protruding from the unbuttoned opening in your pants. “What are you smiling about?”

Quickly, I look back at you, “Wh…what?”

Your smile grows. “Gotcha.” You grab my ankles and pull me to the edge of the bed. While you unbutton your pants and push them along with the boxers down your body, I pull off my satin nightgown. “Fuck, your nipples. They’re just begging to be sucked on.” Pulling me up in a seated position, you drop to your knees and flick your tongue out against my hardened nipple.

“Ah, fuck, Thomas,” I shout.

“You like that?” You look up at me with a smile on your face. You continue to turn me on, massaging my nipples. “I love how turned on you get when I fuck you. I wonder how wet you are?” You dip down and look at my spread open legs. “Oh, fuck, I need to lick that pussy.” I smile. Pulling me up onto shaky legs, you lie down on the bed. “Sit on my face, baby.”

I don’t let you finish that sentence before I’m crawling up your body, a leg on either side of your face, waiting for you to move your tongue out.

“Does someone like when I do this?” You trail a finger against the string of my thong.

I purr.

“Answer me,” you demand, with a hard smack on the ass followed by a rub.

“Yes, Thomas,” I yelp. “I love when you lick my pussy.”

“Good.” Taking my thong between your thick, long fingers, you yank. “That’s better,” you say, gripping my ass and pulling me up a bit further until your tongue is on my wet flesh.

I run my fingers through the thick locks of your hair, staring down at you. “That feels so good.”

“You like that?” you ask between licks of my swollen nub.

“Mhm.”

“Good.” Your voice is filled with pleasure. “Watch as my tongue makes you come.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to. I want to watch you.”

You smack my ass. “No. Watch my tongue. Ride it, even. Make yourself come. Here,” you say, stopping the swivel of your tongue along my body. “My tongue is your pleasure post. Ride it.”

The rush overtakes me. The need to pleasure myself. Make myself come. Satisfy myself with your body and feel the overwhelming sensations of release wash over me. I grip your hair in my hands harder to keep you still. To keep you right where I need you to get me off. I rock back and forth, slowly. Ever so slowly. Getting used to your tongue.

I look down at you, and it overwhelms me, the sexual being inside of me. The one that only comes out with you. With you I drop the façade. I forget the act of being a lady, prim and proper, excusing myself to go to the restroom. Although the only time I do that is to signal to you I want you to fuck me.

We’re sexual beings, you and I.

I don’t see anything wrong with what we do.

Plain and simple, we fuck.

Yes, we care about one another. We’d be heartless if we didn’t.

You know me. You know how my body works. You know what makes me tick. Exactly what puts me on edge. You know how to make me come, how to make me squirm, beg for you to be inside of me. But there’s a whole other side of me you don’t know anything about. A side that Alex is getting to know very well.

“Fuck this,” you say, gripping my hips and pulling me down your rock hard body. “I need to fuck that pussy.” Your hardness tingles against my entrance. Almost like a dance. You’re so close to being inside of me I can taste it. “Put me inside of you,” you rasp. Sitting up straight, the mattress dips. I lean all of my weight to one side and grab your length. I run my hand up and down you a few times, loving the groans coming from your fuckable mouth. You smack me hard on the ass, causing me to yelp. I love when you smack my ass. I’m never prepared for it. Your eyes blaze with sex and fire. “Put me inside of you, Stella,” you snap out. “Now, goddammit!”

I laugh, loving the tease I’m being right now. Swaying my hips against your erect length, I rub it against my swollen clit. “You really want to fuck my pussy, don’t ya, Thomas?”