She comes back with me. I insist on it. I’ve gone long enough without her, and I’m not letting her stay here, alone, in this enormous house that’s haunted with memories of her evil stepmother.

The poor thing only brings two suitcases, and when I tell her that I’ll send someone back for the rest, she just shrugs.

“This is just about it, actually,” she says. “I mean, you can’t pack up the garden or the birds.”

When I drive her away in my limousine, she doesn’t even look back, just leans her head against my shoulder and heaves a deep sigh.

* * *

Ella’s pretty quiet the whole time, and I can’t blame her. This has to be a huge shock, but the way that she kisses me every chance she gets, the way she slides her hands over my body and the way she looks at me says that she’s glad I found her.

We install her in a suite in the palace next to mine, and the moment all her things are inside, I kick everyone else out. Ella stands in the middle of the ridiculously ornate room and looks around, wide-eyed and wondrous.

“You like it?” I ask.

Just watching her standing there is making me hard, so fucking hard I think I could cut glass with my dick. I’ve spent three weeks fantasizing about the night we spent together, about the way her eyes closed the first time I entered her, the way she looked over her shoulder at me an hour later as she eased onto my cock for a second time.

About waking up to her naked, sexy as fuck, and on top of me.

“It’s different,” she says, half-smiling. “I’m used to being around stuff like this, but I’m not used to living in it.”

“This is yours now,” I say, walking over to her.

I point at the couch, at the bed, at the floor, at the ceiling.

“These are all yours,” I go on, taking one hand and lacing our fingers together, then putting both hands to my heart. “And this is yours.”

Ella glances from my eyes to my lips, then kisses me. It’s a deep, slow kiss, our tongues winding together as her body presses harder and harder against mine. I can practically feel her need, and I wrap my other hand around the back of her head, pulling her close.

Finally, she pulls back, her lips swollen and red from the kiss, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire and sparkling deviously.

That look alone makes my cock twitch and strain against my pants.

“What else is mine?” she asks, half-teasing, a smile playing around her lips.

Fuck, I love this side of her too, this good-girl-gone dirty that I’m completely powerless to resist.

I grin and move our hands lower, unlacing our fingers until her palm is flat against the outline of my cock in my pants, and I groan.

“This is yours,” I growl, and her hand closes around me.

“Good,” she says, and I capture her mouth with mine again.

I can barely hold back. Ella strokes me, and even through the layer of fabric heat sizzles through my body like I’ve grabbed onto a power line. I bite her lip and growl into her mouth, the sound pure and primal and raw.

I press my lips to her neck, biting and sucking on it as my hands grab her perfect tits through her dress and I pinch her nipples just a little bit harder than I should.

Ella gasps and whimpers, so I do it again. She trembles against me.

“Grayson,” she whispers, and I take the shell of her ear between my teeth, licking it slowly.

“Kitten,” I whisper. “I need you right fucking now, and right fucking here.”

She squeezes my cock in response, and I groan into her ear.

“I’ve spent three weeks thinking about the way you say my name when you’re about to come, and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Then don’t,” Ella murmurs, and her hand finds the zipper on my pants, pulling it down tooth by tooth.

I almost explode, but instead I pull up the skirt on her work dress, grabbing her ass with both hands. I slide my fingers underneath her panties to find her soaking wet, and when I do she leans her head against my shoulder and sighs.

“You’re wet as hell for me, kitten,” I say.

“I know,” she murmurs into my neck. “It’s because I know what you’re about to do.”

I push my fingertips into her, feeling her writhe against my body. She takes my cock in her hands and it springs free of my pants, long and thick and so fucking hard I might never recover.

“I need you inside me,” she whispers, stroking me from root to tip. It feels so good I shudder. “Please, Grayson.”

That’s all I can handle. I grab Ella by the shoulders and spin her around — not harshly, but not gently — and push her against the back of a couch, the closest furniture.

She yelps, then giggles as I shove her skirt up and yank her panties down to the ground, unbuttoning my pants and undoing my belt, giving my cock a little more freedom.

And I push myself against her, my thick cock hard between the round globes of her ass as she arches into me. Her hands dig into the fabric of the sofa and she sighs, turning her head to one side.

“I can’t do gentle right now, Ella,” I murmur into her ear as I grab the neckline of her dress and pull it down.

It tears. I don’t care. I can buy her a new one.

“And I can’t do romantic. Right now, I can only promise you hard and fast and fucking deep, but I can promise you that you’re going to like it.”

Her dress tears more, and she shrugs her shoulders out of it, now naked from the waist up, her skirt hiked to her hips. Ella undone like this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, at least until she reaches behind herself and grabs my cock again, leaning forward over the couch.

No; the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life is Ella, bent over and undone, on her tiptoes, rubbing the head of my cock from her clit to her entrance, biting her lip and moaning.

I sink myself into her with a single stroke, and she cries out in sheer pleasure. I grab the back of the couch next to her hips and push myself into her as hard as I can as she arches her back.

“Grayson,” she whimpers. “Fuck yes, Grayson.”

I can barely breathe, she feels so fucking good. I’m inside her all the way to the hilt and her pussy is already fluttering and clenching around me, her hips moving as she bends over the couch, seemingly lost in a reverie of pleasure.

Scratch what I said before: Ella, gasping and moaning and flushed with my cock inside her is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I can barely hold out, and even though I try to go slow it’s fucking impossible. Not when this is all I’ve thought about for weeks, not when Ella is moaning and gasping and whimpering.

Not when the only three words she seems to know are harder, Grayson, please. God, I love how filthy she gets when my cock is inside her.

I fuck her harder, holding her perfect tits in my hands, her nipples pinched between my fingers. It doesn’t take long before she’s reduced to gibberish, then just sounds, her back arched and her head thrown back.

It’s a miracle that I don’t come. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to fuck her like this and not come, but I’m a gentleman.

Just when I think I can’t make it any longer, Ella grabs a handful of my hair in her fist and arches back, her chest heaving under my hands.

“I’m gonna come,” she breathes. “Oh, fuck, Grayson, I’m gonna come so fucking—”

Ella screams, and it feels like a fist closes around my cock. I bury my nose in her hair and shout her name, because seconds later I explode like a nuclear bomb, coming hard and fast and long deep inside her.

I swear her whole body tightens at once, and Ella comes for ages, gasping and whimpering until she’s finally done. She releases my hair and sags slightly against the couch, then looks back at me through her eyelashes.

Even though I’m still inside her, the look is somehow coy. Innocent.

And fucking hot.

“That what you needed?” I ask, tracing a finger down her sweaty spine as we both gasp for breath.

Ella just smiles and nods.