Page 28 of The Cursed

There was no point. Even if it hadn't served my purpose, we both would have known it for the lie it was.

He reached down, putting his arms parallel to his body. His hands wrapped around my legs, pulling me further up his body and setting me down when I straddled his chest. He adjusted his hold, doing it all over again until I straddled his face. "What are you doing?"

"Grab the headboard and hold on tight, my love," he ordered, wrapping an arm around each of my thighs. His fingers pressed into the skin, causing dimples to appear where he touched the soft flesh. He used his hold to force me to lower myself, gripping tighter when I tried to resist. "Now, sit," he growled, jerking me lower. His mouth touched my pussy, his tongue immediately moving against me. I gasped, throwing my head back as my hands grabbed onto the headboard to steady myself as he ordered.

Gray devoured me, drawing out a steady stream of moans from my throat I couldn't have held in if I tried. Curving my body forward with deep breaths, I glanced down at his face between my thighs. Golden eyes shone from beneath me, looking up at me and taking in the entirety of my body. From the swell of my thighs where they wrapped around his head to the curve of my stomach and the valley between my breasts, there was nothing he couldn't see.

There was nothing he didn't like.

I'd always been comfortable in my skin and in my body, even as there was something about having a man who appreciated every inch that made me love it more. I felt beautiful with his eyes on me, raking in every part of me he could see. My hips moved of their own accord as he circled my clit with his tongue, applying just enough pressure to drive me closer to my orgasm without ever shoving me over that edge.

"Gray," I begged, my hips moving shamelessly and grinding against his face. He didn't speak as he let me take what I needed, using his mouth for my own pleasure. I leaned forward, pressing the top of my head against the headboard and dropping a hand between my legs to bury it in his hair. I held him still, pinning him where I wanted him as my need coiled tighter.

His fingers tightened on my thighs, yanking me back so suddenly that I felt airborne until my back bounced off the bed. He was on top of me in an instant, placing a hand behind my knee and lifting it high as he drove inside me.

"Oh fuck," I groaned, spasming around him as he fully laid his weight over mine and plundered my mouth with his. I tasted myself on his lips, on his tongue as he ground deep between my thighs.

"Want to feel it when you come," he murmured, his mouth moving against mine as he pulled back and thrust forward with unhurried, hard strokes. My orgasm came on the third, forcing me to scream against his mouth as he swallowed the sound.

He fucked me through it, touching his mouth to mine when my breathing steadied. His thrusts slowed, something shifting as he shared my breath. I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me intently, his arms leaning into the bed beside my head until there was nothing but him and the warmth of his golden stare.

"Gray..." I trailed off, closing my eyes when it became too much.

"Let me love you," he said, his words softly spoken against my mouth. He took my hand in his, guiding it to the mark on the center of his chest and splaying my fingers over where his heart beat in tune with mine.

"I can't," I said, a broken sob escaping.

"Oh, Witchling," he said, smiling sadly as he stared down at me. "You already are."

He hiked my leg higher, burrowing closer to my body as he kissed me. He didn't speak another word as he sought his own release, building me up to another orgasm before he finally went over the edge. He lingered after he'd finished, his weight on me giving me comfort rather than claustrophobia.

I was so fucked.

15

GRAY

Willow sat on the edge of the bed, her hands on her knees as she stared toward the window at the edge of the room. She wanted to be out with nature, with the part of her that felt familiar in the chaos of what she was becoming. I unzipped the garment bag, watching as Willow rolled her eyes and stood to look at the dress I'd brought her. She wasn't typically overly concerned with dressing for anyone but herself and her own taste, and I could guess from the state of her mother's home and the reality of what her father had done to her life that she hadn't had much cause for formal celebrations.

But as the garment bag parted and allowed for the black fabrics to appear, she rose to her feet and came to get a closer look. The tulle skirt had sporadic vines and flowers falling from the waistline where it would drape over her legs—except for the slit that went high up the thigh and would let her move freely if needed. The torso was corseted and covered in silk and lace that reminded me of the lattice ironwork of the Tribunal doors. With a sweetheart neckline, delicate fabric vines looped over one of her shoulders.

She touched a gentle finger to the vines, her matte black polish a perfect complement to the gown that had been made for her.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The Tribunal rooms," I said, going to the dresser where I'd had some of the staff move her clothing. I grabbed a black lace thong, taking a knee in front of her.

She was still nude, not having bothered to dress after I'd had my way with her. I'd tugged on a pair of boxer briefs when I stood to get her dress, but I loved that Willow owned her sexuality. Her body was perfect as it was, everything I could have wanted in my wife, and it pleased me that she was comfortable in it.

"You do realize most men take a knee when they propose, not after they've manipulated a woman into marriage, yes?" she asked as I smirked up at her. I wrapped a hand around the back of her calf, lifting it toward me so she could balance. Where others might have stumbled from the change in stability, Willow didn't so much as shift as her other leg took over. Slipping her foot into the thong, I repeated the process with the other leg and then rose in front of her as I glided the fabric up her strong thighs and settled it into place.

Cupping her cheeks in both hands, I ran my thumbs over the apples of her cheekbones and watched her eyes flare to life. More than just filling withherand with the challenge that always came from my physical ownership of her, the magic within her recognized its previous owner and brightened for me.

Her naturally unique eyes lit with the glow of magic, the gold in one of hers so similar to mine that it took my breath away—a symbol of the way our fates had been linked since the moment Charlotte and I struck our bargain. I'd never expected to find so much comfort in the fact that I'd never really had a choice.

I didn't like not being in control of every aspect of my life and my home, except for Willow Morningstar. She was the exception to every rule I'd ever made for myself and my kind.

"And what are we doing in the Tribunal rooms that would require a gown like that?" she asked, swallowing through the touch and the discomfort she felt. She thought I didn't see every nervous tick—even though she seemed determined to convince me she was on her way to forgiving me.

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