Page 391 of Once Upon a Fable

Ripping my eyes away from Jareth, I jolted as Gem fisted me, squeezing me as best she could with my shorts still baring her skin from mine. Shifting onto her knees, she inhaled fast and shallow as she reached for my hand with her free one.

Her touch was like fire on my flesh.

My instincts screamed to pull away and not let her do this. But the whispers and memories in my head encouraged me. All the times I’d supported my family. All the tears I’d wiped from their faces and all their screams I’d swallowed so Storymaker wouldn’t punish my loved ones, reminded me that if I could do that for them, then I could do this for me.

With gritted teeth, I let Gem guide my hand to where she fisted me.

Every muscle in my body stiffened as she splayed my hand and placed it where hers had been, wrapping my own fingers around my erection.

The neat bourbon buzzed in my veins, giving me false confidence to do something I hadn’t been able to do in years. With my right hand cupping myself beneath Gem’s touch and my left gripping the armrest of the couch, I fought the rush of sickness, the shortness of breath, the chaos inside my head as she forced my fingers to fondle.

Pleasure shot through my belly as I squeezed.

Dread, disgust, and detestation followed swiftly after.

My body demanded more than just a squeeze. My hips wanted to rock. My balls tightened with the need to release.

But I still couldn’t move my hand.

Gem shifted higher onto her knees. Running her touch over my knuckles, she removed her hand from mine and cupped my cheek. Turning my head to face her, she kissed me.

Her lips feathered over mine, distracting me, igniting a fierce need to shoot through my veins.

My cock went rock fucking hard beneath my hand.

She moaned into my mouth as I licked the seam of her lips.

She let me kiss her deeper, losing myself to lust and sensation.

My fingers squeezed around me, instinct taking over.

A part of me clawed for more.

The other part howled to let go.

Sweat broke out over my forehead.

Christ, why had I allowed Storymaker to have such control over me? This wasmybody, goddammit. My cock.Mydecision.

I kissed Gemma harder, anger pouring through me. Injustice and frustration and every other shitty emotion I’d been repressing for far too long ignited. With strength I didn’t really have, I wrapped my fingers tighter around my length.

And I made another choice.

A choice to defeat this part of me.

A choice to take back what was stolen.

My mind spluttered with present and past. Ghostly voices whispered in my ears.

I pumped once.

“That’s it, darling Kas, get nice and hard for Levin. I could spit on it for you, give you some lube.” Storymaker grinned. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you dirty boy.”

Fuck.

My hand opened on its own accord, still controlled by panic attacks and self-preservation. Ripping my touch away, I sucked in a tattered breath.

“Don’t let him stop, Gemma,” Jareth snapped from across the room. “He can’t stop.”