Forsaking Gray (The Colloway Brothers Book 1) (12 page)

“Gray…” she groans, heavy head falling to the table.

“I’m going to eat this pussy, Livvy.
My
pussy. I’ve been denied it far too long.”

I grab her cheeks and spread them, using my thumbs to pull her nether lips apart and start to feast. I lick and suck until she’s moving frantically against my mouth, trying to reach the peak and fall over. I thrust my tongue into her soaking channel and feel her walls tighten around me.
Jesus, how I’ve missed this.

“Gray, please, please,” she begs.

Dragging my wet thumb up to the place I know she craves it, I ease in, pulling a wail from her throat, causing her to writhe faster. I move another digit to her clit and start to circle deliberately, applying just the right amount of pressure.

She immediately detonates, crying my and God’s name over and over. It’s music to my deaf ears. I will never get enough of the way my Livvy sounds when she comes undone by my hand, or my mouth, or my cock. I let her ride my face and my fingers until she slows and her body sags.

Standing, I reach for her hips, gently turning over her boneless form. The only position that I’ve ever taken another woman in the last few years is from behind, so I don’t have to look at their faces. It made it easier to pretend they’re Livvy. So, the first time I take her after being apart for so long, I intend to look into her eyes as she bares her soul to me.

I want it.

I need it.

I
crave
it.

And I will have it as I sink my cock deep inside her.

“You’re so beautiful, Livvy,” my thick voice rasps. With her dark hair fanning out on the table, her fair skin radiating like starlight and the blissfully sated look on her face, she looks like an ethereal goddess spread out on an altar. My altar. Mine to take. I almost want to weep at the sight of her, and I have to keep telling myself repeatedly this is not a dream. This is real. She’s right before me, in the flesh. Her innate beauty makes me breathless.

Her lust-laden eyes hold mine as I quickly undress, my clothes joining hers in the pile on the floor beside me. With one push down of my navy boxer briefs, my straining, heavy cock springs free and it’s throbbing to finally be home. My hands slowly travel up her trembling legs as I ask the questions I’m burning to know before I fuck my fiancée for the first time in over five years. And I still think of her that way. She’s
mine
.

I know I should use a condom, but I can’t. It’s not like I carry them around in my pants pockets at work anyway, and I’m not waiting a minute longer to be inside her. And I don’t give a shit if she ends up pregnant. I
want
her to. I want to tie her to me for fucking ever so the thought of leaving me again causes her physical pain, like it did when she left me.

“Tell me you’re clean, Livvy.” I haven’t been raw with another women since her.

She nods and whispers yes.

“Tell me there’s no one else,” I choke, now running my dick up her wet slit, readying it for the hot plunge. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says yes.

“There’s no one else,” she whispers, no hesitation. I see the truth in her eyes.

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I cover her and link her hands with mine, so we’re skin to skin, except for the fabric that’s still bunched around her waist and thrust into her tight pussy. Five years simply melt away like shadows in the light.

Our eyes lock. “Tell me you’re mine, angel.”

“Ahhhh, Gray,” she breathes, her eyes closing in pleasure.

I pull out slowly and drive again. It takes three times to seat myself to the hilt of her tight channel. Her smooth walls grip me like a boa constrictor and I know that no other man has been inside her sweetness in some time. And that pleases the fuck out of me, more than it should.

“Tell me.”

“Gray.” She turns her head away. Releasing one hand, I cup her face, turning it back, never losing my slow, methodical rhythm.

“Look into my soul and know that it belongs to only you.”

She closes her eyes. If the clenching of her inner muscles is any indication, she’s close to a second orgasm, so I stop. I deny her. Her eyes fly open.

“You own me, Livvy. You own all of me, so. Tell. Me. You. Are. Mine.”

Her eyes mist, she swallows hard. I move my hips, slowly withdrawing nearly all the way and thrust so hard she expels a harsh breath. “Say it.” I repeat my deliberate movements and start to feel the telltale tingling in the base of my spine. She’s so tight, so hot, so Livvy. I know I won’t last long. I rain kisses on her jaw, her eyelids, her parted mouth. I need her to admit she’s mine before I let us fall.

“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re mine,” I beg quietly in her ear. Her body tightens. It already knows it’s mine. Now I need the words.

Her soft reply makes my heart swell. “I’ve always been yours, Gray. Always.”

Thank Jesus.

Her legs quiver and her snug pussy has become even more so. Her climax is almost upon her. I’m unable to hold back any longer and with her admission, I have one sole goal. To fuck her hard, sending her over the edge one more time before I follow.

Peeling myself from her sweat-soaked skin, I grab her legs, tilt her pelvis higher and pound into her with a fierce, rough pace. Our gazes lock until the rush of rapture forces her head back, her body convulsing. I swiftly follow with the most intense, most euphoric orgasm I’ve had since the night I asked Livvy to marry me.

My legs are liquid, but I manage to scoop her up and sit in the cushioned leather chair behind me, still tucked inside her wet heat. She clings to me, her head on my shoulder.

We’re quiet, only our harsh breaths filling the room. I honestly couldn’t be more content than I am right now. I love this woman to the deep recesses of my soul and as our breathing stabilizes and our bodies cool, I realize that while it’s eating me up inside to not know what caused her to leave me so long ago, I’m willing to simply take what I can get.

Her
.

She’s it for me. She bewitched me the second our eyes met and while I thought I’d done a decent job at moving on, I realize that I’ve been a shadow of myself without her in my life. I feel like I can see in color for the first time in years.

It’s funny how the mind can so easily fool itself. With the loss of someone you love, you trick yourself into thinking you’re managing, coping, living. But you’re not. You’re simply existing.

If the sun is suddenly stripped away, eventually you’d get used to darkness. You have to. It’s your new normal and you can’t escape. It becomes part of your daily life. And after so long in the blackness you fool yourself into thinking you’ve adjusted. You think you can live. Thrive, even. But then the sunshine returns and it’s bright and warm and comforting.

It’s joy.

It’s life.

It’s your salvation. And you realize how very wrong you were. You weren’t living at all. You were in a cold, lonely hell without those life-giving rays and you can finally see things clearly for the first time since you were plunged into that dark, bleak space.

Sitting here, quietly stroking Livvy’s hair in comfortable silence, I’m hit with the realization that I’ve really been living in darkness this whole time and my sunshine has finally returned. My purpose in life finally restored. My blackness vanished. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone, or anything, throw me into that dark void ever again.

Chapter 15

I didn’t once think of the many times sex was forced on me during those long, interminable days with Peter. I didn’t think of the beatings that would always follow, or the broken bones that would need time to mend before he started all over again. Instead, making love with Gray was always as I thought it would be.
Healing
. It helped that he held my gaze so I could stay in the moment. I let Gray have me, and I did nothing but enjoy every single second of it. The peacefulness that settled over me was deep and surreal.

But I’ve also never been more confused.

I shouldn’t have let him in. In either my heart, or my body, but I can’t bring myself to regret a single solitary second of what happened tonight. And I don’t know how I can face Gray again while keeping this ugly, dirty secret bottled up inside me, where it belongs. He didn’t push me for answers again, but there’s only so long that can last. Even if we were to try to make a go of this, he would eventually press me. And I’d refuse him. The bitterness of my lie of omission would fester like an open wound, ultimately becoming so infected its toxicity would spread and become untreatable. And fatal to our relationship.

Gray thinks he loves me, he thinks he can forgive me, but, so help me God, if he knew my shameful secrets, he wouldn’t. He
couldn’t
. He’d turn and walk away with hate and contempt in his heart. And I simply can’t bear that. But the thought of letting him go almost sends my body into complete shutdown.

I’m so screwed.

“Livia, what are you doing sitting here alone in the dark?”

The overhead light turns on. I squint my eyes at the hurt it inflicts on my retinas. I’ve been sitting on the couch in the dark, in complete silence, ever since Gray dropped me off hours ago. Against my protests, he insisted on bringing me home and walking me to the door. He wanted to stay, but I wouldn’t let him. I needed time and space to think. He wasn’t happy but respected my wishes. I told him I’d talk to him in a few days, but I fully expect he’ll just show up on my doorstep tomorrow, uninvited.

“Livia, are you okay?” Addy asks, taking a seat beside me. Concern is clearly written all over her face and I’m glad my friend is here but want her gone at the same time.

I can’t even speak. I simply shake my head and she wraps her arms around me, comforting me. Then she must spot what I’m holding because she grabs the small, velvet box from my hand. When she opens it, it makes that lovely little clicky noise that jewelry boxes do. You know, the one that makes your heart pitter-patter the first time you lift the lid. I hear her gasp at the beautiful, sparkling piece sitting in the cushioned middle.

“What the hell is this, Liv?”

“My engagement ring,” I state flatly, not looking at her.

“Your engagement ring? Shut up.
Who
the fuck are you engaged to?” she shrieks. I haven’t been on a single date since we’ve lived together, so of course this shocks her. I’ve never spoken of Gray or Peter. I’ve never shared my painful past with anyone, except my shrink. I’ve kept the fucking lid on that nightmare superglued shut. It’s the only way I can cope.

Taking the box back, I shut it and climb off the couch. My hips are stiff and my right leg is slightly asleep. I walk to the living room window, gazing at the dark night outside from our third-floor apartment.

The day I offered my life for my sister’s I briefly let myself break. But the second I walked out the door of my father’s house, my resolve to survive was strong and fortified. I was given ten minutes and allowed to pack a small bag, taking only a few personal items with me, minus my phone. I was told I’d be provided everything else I needed. Lies, all of it.

I look down, turning the black box over and over in my hand and reminisce. While the details of the few minutes I’d spent packing are fuzzy and hazy because of the shock I was in, I distinctly remember taking my two-carat, emerald cut diamond engagement ring off my finger and hiding it under the loose floorboard in my bedroom. I retrieved it when we cleaned and sold our father’s house, but I’ve not looked at again…until tonight. It felt too much like breaking the seal on that closed box. A seal that, once broken, could never fully be repaired.

Addy waits patiently for my reply to her question. She senses I’m on the precipice of a steep ledge and if she pushes me too hard, I’ll simply tumble over and just be…gone.

I feel like a champagne bottle that’s been shaken. Bubbles fizz and demand release. The pressure to be contained in their glassy, corked prison becomes too great. And eventually the top will blow; spewing its sickly sweet contents everywhere, creating a huge fucking mess, the champagne now ruined, the bottle an empty vessel to be discarded. Left behind.

I need to release some pressure, to tell someone
something
so I can lighten this heavy burden I carry around with me daily. Spinning, I lean against the ledge, opening the small square container in my hand. I don’t look at her. I can’t. Instead, I stare at that tiny, size six and a half platinum circle of trust that Gray gave me…which I broke.

“A little over five years ago I was engaged to a man named Gray Colloway.” I smile as I let myself remember our whirlwind love affair and how very much I wanted to marry him. I still do. “He was the love of my life.”
He still is,
a quiet voice reminds me. As if I need reminded of that.

“What happened?” she asks tentatively.

Then I do look up at her. “Betrayal,” I answer simply. Not Gray’s of course, but my father’s. But I know my one-word reply has her thinking otherwise, and I feel bad for letting her believe a lie.
Add it to the pile
.