Princely Passions 2(47)
“Oh yikes,” she says, wrinkling her nose at me. “That’s nasty.”
“Addicts usually are!” I say cheerfully. I’m not ashamed of my past—it’s made me who I am, even if I have no desire to repeat those years.
Once we finish with our meal, I pull her out onto the dance floor, moving with her to the crooning of the jazz singer and band. She feels right in my arms—more right, more real, than anything I’ve ever had before.
I dip her in my arms, and I hear light applause around us. I look up and realize that we’ve gathered a bit of an audience. I straighten, pulling Gisele upright, and she waves, blushing, as I take her off the dance floor.
We leave the restaurant, out into the crisp night air, and I’m wondering how I can convince her to come back to my place, when she asks, “Want to come back to my apartment?”
“Yes,” I breathe. I want that more than anything.
135
Gisele
As we walk into my apartment, my knees are knocking together. I haven’t been this nervous since George asked me out on a date in seventh grade. I want Stone to fuck me, and this time, I want him to remember me. I have been watching him all evening, and he isn’t high on the experimental drug, at least not that I can see. His eyes are focused, even if they seem to spend most of their time focusing on my tits, and he seems completely aware of his surroundings.
Finally, I’m going to have my night with Stone – not in a bathroom stall, not in a nameless hotel room, but in my apartment, in my bed. I pull him into the house, slamming the door closed behind him, and began pulling at his tux, wanting to rip it off him with my teeth. Stone in a tux is sexier than ten James Bonds put together.
But, he stops me, his hand on my shoulder. Why is he stopping me? I blink, staring up at his face through a haze of red desire.
“Tonight, I finally get to remember you. Tonight, I get to make you mine.”
I nod, trying to keep my mind focused on his words and where he could possibly be going with this, and not focused on getting his cock into my mouth, but I’ll be honest, this was much harder than my Honors English final in 12th grade, and I’d thought that was going to kill me off.
“I want to do this the old-fashioned way.”
That clears a little more of the fog out. That sounds…decidedly un-fun.
“Old fashioned?” I repeat. I’m hoping this doesn’t mean he presses a kiss to my forehead and walks out. Please oh please oh please…
“No penetration tonight. Just you and I, mouths on each other, pleasuring each other. Let’s take it slow.”
Ohhhhhh…this means I do get to put my mouth around that delicious cock of his.
“Deal!” I say and start dragging him towards the bedroom.
Oh yeah, this time around, you’re not following me inside. Not yet. Let me try him out and see how he fucks sober.
Don’t worry, Stone will probably start talking to you right as soon as he wakes up…
136
Stone
I wake up, my arm under Gisele's head, the pins and needles throbbing up and down my arm from it having gone to sleep long ago. I slide my arm out from underneath her, shaking it to get the tingling sensation out, and then grab my phone off the nightstand. I’m awake now; it’s time to see what the world has done without me over the past 12 hours.
I thumbprint my way into my phone and then start flicking through it.
Hold on …
Google Alerts has gone crazy on me. I usually get a few each day, although after my cock-waving move last week, I've certainly gotten a lot more. But this morning …
Well, I’m not going to say that it’s as much as it was last week, but I also don’t know if it’s much less.
Tell-All Blush Magazine Article…
The Internet Goes Crazy With New Revelations…
Is This For Real? Or is Gisele Taylor Trying To Sell Us a Bill of Goods?
My chest hurts, and I think for a moment that I might hyperventilate, but staring at these headlines…
Surely not. Surely this isn’t what I think it is.
It can’t be. Gisele, lying next to me, each breath an adorable little snore; Gisele, dancing in my arms last night; Gisele, cumming in my arms…
Hands trembling, I click on an article at random and start skimming it.
Oh Gisele, how could you?
There, she talks about how I’m taking this experimental drug and how I’m high half the day and how I don’t remember doing things and she’s interviewing doctors about the drug and she’s…
She’s betraying my trust. Every word, every syllable on the page is a betrayal.
I vault out of bed, shoving my feet into my shoes before realizing that I have to put on my socks first, and okay, maybe my boxer briefs and my pants and then my shoes would be helpful and I’m throwing the clothing on, not even caring, just wanting to get out of there, away from the person I had trusted, the one person in the world that I’d told, and who’d broken that trust, who’d taken it and smashed it into smithereens, all to get a story, a headline that no one else could get—Exclusive! Why Stone Slayer Pulled a Slayer (And the Truth on Whether It’ll Happen Again)—and using me, oh God, so calculating and cold. I’m used to people wanting to be close to me because of what they think they can get from me. I’m used to people conniving to be around me so they can get what they want and fuck the rest, but I’d trusted Gisele and I don’t know why.