Page 9 of Bread by the Grim (Ghostlight Falls #4)

Grim

T he words come out between gulps of air. I walk past the truck, across the road to where the land is undeveloped, hoping to get away. She follows me of course, because I’m being weird.

“Grim, I’m not leaving you alone when you’re in pain.”

“Phil, I’m not in pain. I’m shifting.”

“Okay. Then shift. I’ll keep watch over you.”

“Can’t…be…around you.” It’s almost impossible for me to get the words out. I stop and lean against a tree as she catches up. She turns me to face her, meeting my gaze with her bright eyes.

Her eyes study me. “Why not?”

“Can’t…control…urges.”

Strangely, she looks unphased. “What kind of urges? Hunger? Murder? ”

“Fuckkkkk.” I’m becoming more and more of an outsider in my own body. She misunderstands my meaning and pulls me to her instead of backing away. Tenderly, a hand presses my head against her shoulder, and she holds me tight, her natural vanilla scent filling my lungs.

“What hurts? Is it the swelling on your back? That’s got to hurt like hell when that happens.” Her voice is calm as her hands move up my back without hesitation. Carefully, she begins to rub the skin where the spikes have begun to form.

The motion is so soothing I find myself calming down and the shift doing something it’s never done before—reversing course before it has a chance to fully take hold.

I’m usually stuck in my gremlin for at least a day, but as Phil’s hands knead my back, the spikes slowly retreat.

Breathing becomes easier as I’m able to stand straight once again.

It feels like a miracle. I can hardly believe it’s real.

“Phil, you did it!” I laugh. “I’ve never been able to stop a shift.

” I don’t even think. I cup her face in both my hands and press my lips to hers.

I mean it to be quick, but she leans into me, those soft pink lips opening.

I don’t even think. I just react. Her vanilla scent is everywhere, and I can’t fight my desire for her any longer.

Her tongue brushes mine, and soon she’s on tiptoe, pushing me into the tree, her body pressed hard against mine.

I can feel all of her—her breasts against my chest, her thighs locked against mine, and I’m sure she can feel all of me as my cock hardens between us.

I fully expect her to pull away, horrified.

Instead, she presses her hips harder into mine as her lips work hard to take my breath away.

I’ve kissed and been kissed, but those times are nothing compared to what Phil does to me. I cannot even think when her lips are on mine. She’s an absolute goddess, and I’d die happy right this second knowing I got to spend these few moments in her presence.

Eventually, she has to come up for air. Her eyes meet mine for a moment, uncertain. She licks her lips as she studies me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m sure I just made things weird…”

I can’t help but run my thumb along her bottom lip. “I kissed you first.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you just meant it in a friendly–”

“Do you want it to just be friendly?” I ask, suddenly uncertain.

She meets my eyes. “Truthfully?”

“Truthfully.”

She shakes her head. So, I do the only thing I can do and pull her back into my arms. Her lips are on mine before I can even bend down.

She pulls at the bottom of my shirt until it’s untucked from my slacks and runs her hands up and down my chest as our tongues war for dominance.

I want to run my hands over her—we’re well hidden here in the trees—but she’s on a mission, and I will not get in her way.

Her hands drift down to my belt buckle. She undoes it without breaking our kiss and begins to open the front of my slacks. “Can I touch you?” she stops to ask before reaching for my cock.

“You don’t have to–”

She laughs as she lifts my shirt and begins to kiss down my stomach. “Are you kidding, Grim? I have dreams about this cock.”

“Then don’t let me stop you,” I tell her, gathering up her hair, as a gentleman does.

She laughs and, with a hum, wraps her warm, wet mouth around the tip, as her hand wraps around the shaft.

I can’t help the groan that escapes me. She’s so beautiful on her knees with those pink lips wrapped around me.

She meets my eyes before taking me into her mouth, humming as she builds up a rhythm.

Her eyes bore into mine as she takes me deeper and deeper, her rhythm picking up pace as I fall apart on her tongue.

I do my best to keep quiet, but I can’t stop the moans that fall from my lips.

She’s working me hard, sucking me so far back that when the end comes, I don’t even have a chance to warn her how close I am.

She doesn’t seem to care. She sucks that much harder as I cum with an orgasm so hard I’m left shaking .

She doesn’t stop until I’m completely spent and slightly out of breath, her fingers digging into my thighs as I come down off the high.

I want to pull her to me, but it takes me a few moments to recover.

She says nothing, just quietly rests her forehead against my stomach for a moment before I lift her up into my arms, desperate for her scent once again.

“Do you know how beautiful you are with your lips around my cock?” I press my nose to her neck, the sweet scent of vanilla filling me, as I run my tongue over exposed flesh I can reach.

The neckline of her dress is loose, and I pull at it without thinking.

Suddenly it falls away from her, ripping loudly. The sound startles us both.

She pulls back from me and laughs, her beautiful shining eyes meeting mine. “Maybe we should take this someplace a little more private?”

I have no idea how I’m going to drive. My cock’s already hard and aching once again.

I zip up, and she takes my hand. We step out of the woods and right into the middle of the wedding party arriving at the Performing Arts Center.

I manage to pull Phil back into the wood line just before we’re spotted.

We watch from behind a tree as a goat-man, the spitting image of Lieutenant Arnold, offers a hand to a human woman, in a white dress and veil, off the back of a giant motorcycle.

The rest of the wedding party appears in similar fashion—on the backs of motorcycles and tricycles, with one exception.

A lady centaur trails at the end of the procession with a human man on her back.

The man wraps his arms just below her breasts and gives her a kiss before hopping off with unexpected grace given his suit and tie.

“Oh,” Phil says from my side, watching their PDA, “That must be incredibly…disappointing…for her.”

I can’t help but laugh. She covers her mouth, a horrified expression crossing her face. “I did not mean to say that out loud.”

Phil and I watch on, amused, as the rest of the women of the group—a mix of lady goat-folk and humans—manage to shimmy off the backs of bikes in dresses and heels, one hand still holding bouquets.

She wraps her arm around my waist and sighs. “I just love weddings. I hope all this with Arnold doesn’t ruin my shot at doing more of them.”

I squeeze her back as we wait for the door to finally close behind the last groomsman. I don’t know how, but I’m determined to give Phil anything she wants. Her cake business will succeed, Lieutenant Arnold be damned.