Page 28 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

Twenty

Secrets & Desires

H e’d expected her to cower. Anticipated fear or shock or loathing in her eyes. What he didn’t expect was for her to reach up, grab his hair, and pull his mouth down on hers, so hard and wild that his teeth slammed against her lower lip, drawing blood.

He froze, his eyes locked on hers, the coppery taste of blood on his lips, and her delicious whimpering sounds going straight to his cock, making him as hard as steel.

She was right there. Sasha. His. Her naked body below him, laid out as if she was a sacrifice to him. Something to ravage. To pillage. To take and touch and own.

“Please,” she whispered, the bold need in her voice fueling the beast inside. The beast that would take her, fuck her, make her finally, truly, completely his.

How many times had he kissed her in Elysium? Touched her? Fucked her? He thought he knew what it would be like to finally, truly taste her mouth. To feel those long, silky locks between his fingers, to have her soft skin brush over his.

He’d had no fucking idea.

The princess he’d met in Elysium had been brave but shy.

He’d courted her slowly, almost as if he were a real prince of old, and she was the lady to whom he was betrothed.

Their first kiss had started sweet, then grown passionate, and with each encounter that followed, he’d pushed her just a bit farther.

His hands exploring all her soft places, His mouth teasing her lips, her nipples, her cunt.

His palm caressing her back one day, then smacking her ass the next.

No matter his whim, she’d submitted, trusting him to not only keep her safe but to take her to the highest of heights.

And why wouldn’t she trust him? As far as she knew, Prince Killiam was just the product of her fantasies. Fantasies that had an added kick of sensual juice courtesy of the AI coding she’d introduced into that virtual world.

He shouldn’t have been there. He’d trespassed into her secret realm, violating her privacy. Then he’d had the audacity to not only seduce her as Vale, but to take her in the most sensual, degrading, erotic ways that he could think of.

And the cold, hard truth? He didn’t regret it for a moment.

For that matter, the only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t fully recreate those decadent moments now. He had to pretend that he didn’t already know what made her scream. What made her beg.

Or maybe that would be the fun part. Trying each sensual pleasure he knew she liked in Elysium, testing it in the real world to see which made her come the hardest. Would it be his teeth scraping her nipple?

His finger in her ass? Her knees on her chest as he fucked her hard?

His mouth tasting every delicious inch of her?

Or was it maybe her sweet fingers and wet tongue wrapped around his cock as she moaned and sucked and drove him crazy?

Secrets and desires he shouldn’t already know but did.

And every single one was written on a mental checkboard of what he’d bring to her in this world.

No pixels, no haptics, no magic headset to project a view.

Just him and this woman who’d spent more nights than she knew on her knees begging him to fuck her from behind.

To please, please take her hard and fast. Who’d sucked his cock, then pinned him down and whispered how much she liked fucking him while she rode him hard, his cock deep inside her as his fingers teased her clit.

In Elysium, she gave as much as she took.

Here, in the real world, propriety had a grip on her shoulder. She wasn’t the little wild thing he knew she could be.

But that was okay. Good, actually. He wanted to see the change. He wanted to see Reed’s precious little princess climb that ladder, then give herself to him. Not in a world made real by strings of code, but here, where he could feel her and touch her and fuck her.

He wanted to feel his balls tighten as she begged him to fuck her harder. Wanted her to suck his cock while he teased her ass. Wanted to lick every sweet, delicious part of her, wringing out cries of pleasure as his tongue teased her cunt and took her all the way over the mountain.

He wanted it. And he intended to have it.

With a low moan, he grabbed her shoulders and rolled them over, moving her on top of him.

She weighed next to nothing, and he held her with one hand on her very sweet ass and the other palming the back of her head as he looked into her eyes.

Her skin gleamed in the half-light, flushed with desire, tiny beads of sweat already forming at her temples and between her breasts.

She was magnificent—not the carefully curated perfection her father had demanded, but something wilder, more primal.

A goddess in human form, her power only enhanced by the vulnerability in her eyes.

Her thighs straddled him, the slick heat of her core pressing against his stomach, leaving a damp trail as she shifted.

He could smell her arousal—sweet and musky and intensely real in a way Elysium could never replicate.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, kneading, claiming, as his other hand tangled in her hair, tugging just enough to arch her throat.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice a low growl, heavy with need. “Tell me you want me to fuck that hungry little cunt.”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

Her voice was husky, raw with honesty. He could see it in her eyes—no pretense, no performance. Just pure, undiluted desire.

“Tell me to fuck you.”

She didn’t even hesitate. No shyness, no hesitation.

Just her voice, breathy and low as she begged.

“Fuck me. Please, please fuck me.” The need in her voice made him that much harder, but it was the desperation in her tone, the way her body trembled against his, that truly wrecked him.

Power and vulnerability intertwined, hers and his, impossible to separate.

She might be begging, but in that moment, she owned him as surely as he owned her.

“Not yet,” he said, then pulled her mouth to his.

The kisses were deep, wild, even crazed. Tongue and teeth and a wildness that felt like fucking. He tasted blood—hers or his, he couldn’t tell anymore—and something deeper, more essential. The flavor of surrender, of boundaries dissolving between them.

His hands roamed her body, mapping every curve, every hollow, every place that made her gasp or whimper or arch against him.

He memorized each response, filing it away.

This was Sasha giving herself to him, not Vale responding to Prince Killiam.

This was real, and he couldn’t remember ever being more turned on, more desperate to want to mark a woman.

To lay his claim to her. To make her his.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Slowly, he stroked her bare ass, teasing her crack, knowing that he would take her there, too.

Would claim her in every possible way. Slowly.

Methodically. So that she remembered every delicious moment.

The heat of her against his fingertips was intoxicating—blood-warm skin, silken texture, the subtle shift of muscle beneath as she moved.

“Rock your hips,” he whispered, and she did, her hips moving back and forth, each motion teasing his cock, just as his fingertip teased her clit.

Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lip in a little-girl-lost way that almost made him come right then, but he held on, wanting the moment to last. Hell, wanting it to never end.

The sight of her above him, lost in sensation, was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen—more real than any fantasy, more precious for being freely given.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and when she did, the wild, needy heat he saw there reached straight into his chest and grabbed hold of something he’d thought long dead. “Tell me you like this,” he said, even as his cock practically begged to be inside her.

She shook her head, her smile teasing when she said, “If you can’t tell that I do, then one of us must be doing something wrong.”

God help him, he laughed. And damned if he didn’t want her even more. This—this spark, this intelligence, this unexpected playfulness—was something he’d never experienced in Elysium. It was uniquely Sasha, a gift she hadn’t even known she was giving.

He felt it then, beneath the lust and the need and the hunger—something deeper, more terrifying. A connection that went beyond physical desire, beyond the bargain they’d struck. Something that felt dangerously like belonging.

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so damn hard.

When he’d wanted a woman with such a vibrant intensity, he could almost taste the desire.

Or when he knew with absolute certainty that if his cock wasn’t inside her soon, his body would burst from the pent-up longing.

Every nerve ending screamed for release, for completion, for the joining of their bodies in the most primal way possible.

He needed her. Needed to be inside her.

Needed to take her hard and fast—to burn it out of both of them—and then to spend hours exploring every sweet, delicious inch of her, even as he teased her closer and closer to the wildest, hardest orgasm of her life.

He wanted to worship at the altar of her body, to make her forget every moment before this one, to remake the world until it contained only the two of them and this bed and the liquid heat building between them.

“Liam, please.”

It was his name on her lips that threw gasoline on the fire already burning inside of him.

His first name, said in a voice that was intimate and raw and pleading all at the same time.

The formality stripped away, the barriers between them crumbling with that single word.

“Say it.” His voice was practically a growl. “Say what you want.”

“Fuck me. Please,” she added, her hips moving so that she was stroking herself against the length of his cock as he teased her ass.

He stopped the teasing, using one hand to hold her ass cheek steady, as he slipped his other hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding easily into her warm, wet heat.

Her body clenched around his fingers, tightening rhythmically as if trying to draw him deeper. She was so responsive, so ready, the evidence of her desire coating his hand. His cock throbbed in sympathy, demanding to replace his fingers, to feel that same grip, that same welcoming heat.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re wet enough.”

She groaned, then slipped two fingers inside that sweet little cunt before smirking at him.

“Liar,” she said, then rose up, her weight on her knees as she straddled him, using her already slick fingers to tease his cock as she wiggled until her core was right there, and all he wanted in the world was to be inside her.

Her boldness stole his breath—this wasn’t the shy princess he’d seduced in Elysium, but a woman claiming her own pleasure, making her own choices.

She was magnificent in her shameless desire.

And he was helpless before her, willing to be used however she wanted, if only she would keep looking at him with those hungry eyes, with that beautiful mouth parted in anticipation.

Her eyes locked on his, and she leaned forward, thrusting her hips back as she took him in, gasping from the size of him, then slowly riding him, up and down, as her body adjusted.

The sensation was exquisite—hot, tight, wet, perfect.

But it was the expression on her face that nearly undid him—the slight furrow between her brows, the parted lips, the flush spreading across her cheeks and down her throat to her heaving breasts.

She looked shocked, overwhelmed, not by pain but by pleasure so intense it bordered on revelation.

He watched every move, every shiver, every bite of her lip, every blink of her eye. She looked like a woman who’d found ecstasy, and he wanted to hold that moment. To lock it in one of those crystal memory balls. Because he was the man who made her feel that way.

And if he could put that look on a woman’s face, then maybe he wasn’t such a prick after all.