Stealing Cinderella Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
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I bury my face between her thighs and fuck her with my mouth. Ella responds to me the way only she can. She awakens from her slumbering desire, her fingers curling into the bedspread, breath hissing between her teeth. Her spine arcs up like a feline, the softest notes of musical pleasure playing from her lips. I want to listen to this track on repeat.

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but she’s getting inside my head. Making me feel things. Making me question everything. And still, I can’t stop.

Her breasts heave as the first spasm rocks through her. She cries out and quakes against my mouth, toes curling as her head collapses onto the pillow. The orgasm bleeds every bit of tension from her body, and she’s content, but I’m not.

I’m not in my right mind when my lips graze the inside of her thigh, leaving a kiss there before I roll over beside her and stare up at the ceiling. I want to fuck her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But things are spinning out of control. I shouldn’t be here in her room in the middle of the night. She shouldn’t be infecting my thoughts during the day and making the seconds more tolerable. Already, there’s a whispering lie promising a future that could never be true.

She could take the darkness away. She could be the antidote for the chaos in my mind.

I can’t ever let myself fall into that trap. I’m thinking of new ways to punish her when she rolls onto her side and reaches out for me hesitantly. Her fingers graze my crotch, and there’s a protest on my lips, but I’m too weak to give voice to it. When she palms my erection through the trousers, a shudder moves through me, and my eyes fall shut. If I can’t see her, I can pretend I’m not defenseless against her enchantment.

The zipper of my trousers comes down, and she cups me through my briefs. Without intending to, I rock up into her palm, silently signaling I need more. Ella doesn’t let me down. Her gentle fingers slip past the band of my briefs and curl around my engorged dick like she owns it.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my blood, but not knowing what happens next doesn’t make me feel as out of control as it should. I’m not commanding her to do anything. I’m not even watching. I’m just allowing it to happen, and it’s terrifying how okay I am with that right now.

She strokes me like she’s worshipping me. Like I’m her lover, and she wants nothing more than to please me. But we both know that isn’t true. She’s pleasing me for the money, just as I’m only letting her for the release. But for a minute, we can ignore those truths. I can let them fall away as she moves her body closer, her arm brushing against mine as she drags her palm up and down my cock until the tension explodes through my balls.

When my release shoots across my shirt, Ella reaches over to clean it up. My fingers lock around her wrist before she can even undo the first button, and my voice is a warning when I issue the command.

“Don’t.”

Her arm falls away from mine, but she doesn’t retreat. She’s still beside me as I yank off the shirt and toss it aside, leaving only my bare chest and a vulnerability I don’t like. I should move. I should force myself to get up, but right now, my eyes are too heavy, and my body’s too relaxed to fight it.

Just a few minutes. A few minutes and then I will go back to my room.

19

Ella

Sunlight filters in through the window, dancing across Thorsen’s cheekbones. Even in his sleep, his unease is palpable. A part of me longs to reach out and trace over the tension in his face, to ease it away, but then I remember the way he recoiled last night when I moved to touch his shirt. It wasn’t just another episode of his turbulent mood swings. It was instinct. Something I recognize all too well. I’m more certain of it now than I’ve ever been. Something happened to him. Something terrible. Thorsen is masquerading behind a cloak of hostility, and I’m desperate to find out why.

It shouldn’t matter to me. I’m only here for two months, and not because I came here of my own free will. But there has always been something inside me that wants to fix the broken and mend the hurt in those who can’t help themselves. And I feel deeply that Thorsen is someone who hasn’t ever been able to help himself. He isn’t going to make it easy on me. I know that before he even opens his eyes, and the temperature in the room drops.



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