Merry Misunderstandings

Mistakes were made

Vivienne POV

With a slow, deliberate movement, Vivienne opened her door, her breath catching in her throat. She told herself she didn’t know why. Told herself she shouldn’t. But deep down, an unfamiliar pull made it impossible to stop.

Grayson stood there, his tie hanging loose around his neck, his dark hair tousled in that maddeningly careless way, as if he’d spent the last few minutes pacing and running his hands through it. The fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed since their argument, and now it smoldered in a way that made Vivienne’s hands itch to do something reckless, like tug him closer just to see what would happen.

“Can I come in, Vivienne?” He asked, his lips tugging up in that smirk she hated—and made her knees weak at the same time, though she would never admit that.

“Get in here before I change my mind,” she snapped.

She barely had time to close the door before she felt his heat behind her, gently pushing her up against the door. His warm minty breath, with a hint of coffee caressed her neck while his cologne wrapped her in a cloud of lust.

His hands were already on her, sliding over her hips with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers up her spine. Vivienne could feel every inch of him pressed against her, the hardness of his chest, the insistent press of his hips. He’d always had a way of breaking past her defenses, though she hated admitting it—then, and now.

“Still pretending you don’t want this?” he murmured against her neck, his voice low and rough.

“No talking,” Vivienne shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. “That way, I can still pretend you’re someone else.”

Grayson stilled for a moment, then his lips curled into a wicked smile against her skin. Without warning, his hand slid up to her chest, his thumb brushing over her n****e through the silk of her blouse. The contact was electric, sharp enough to make her gasp.

“Careful, Princess,” he whispered darkly. “You might find I like it when you’re mean.”

Before she could respond, he roughly pulled her bra down, her breasts spilling over as if they’d been waiting to be freed. With deliberate intent, Grayson cupped them both in his large hands, a throaty groan of approval forming in his throat.

With one hand occupied with her boob, Grayson’s other slid into her skirt, playing with the band of her panties before he slid into them. They both groaned when Grayson’s large fingers slid over her lips, before finding her clit.

“So f*****g wet already, Princess. And here I thought I was going to have to warm you up,” He chuckled darkly into her ear.

“You better not be all talk,” she bit back, her tone challenging.

Grayson chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against her skin. “Talk?” he murmured, his lips brushing just below her ear. “Oh, Princess, I don’t just talk. I deliver.”

He smirked against her neck, letting his hands trail slowly down her thighs before hiking up her skirt. “A thong?” His voice dropped, a hint of a growl threading through his words as he cupped her cheeks. “You’re making this way too easy.”

Suddenly, his warmth vanished, leaving her cold and breathless. She turned sharply, ready to scold him for teasing her, only to find him coolly sliding a condom from his wallet.

Heat pooled in her stomach as she quickly undid his pants, taking the condom from him. Sliding it over his length, she felt his intense gaze burning into her, his breaths heavy and uneven.

“You like what you see, Princess?” he asked, his voice smug.

Vivienne smirked, turning away from him. “Not bad. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

She braced herself against the door frame, her pulse thundering in her ears. Grayson moved in behind her, his hands firm as they guided hers to grip the wood. “Hold on,” he murmured, his tone dark with promise.

She was just about to fire off a retort when he thrust into her in one swift motion, knocking the air out of her lungs. A sharp cry escaped her as pleasure rippled through her, tinged with the faintest edge of pain.

“No quick wit now, huh?” he rasped, his voice strained as he stilled for a moment. “f**k, you’re so tight.”

Vivienne’s only response was a whimper, her fingers digging into the frame as he started to move. Slow at first, his hips rocked into hers with a deliberate rhythm, but soon the pace quickened, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. Every thrust sent shock waves through her, and she bit her lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

It was fast and hard, their frustration with each other spilling out in every heated motion. Vivienne wasn’t someone who climaxed easily—her exes had been proof enough of that—but to her utter shock, her legs began to tremble, her body teetering on the edge of release.

When Grayson’s arm snaked around her, his fingers slid down to greedily roll over her clit, her control shattered. She cried out, her voice raw, as curses spilled from her lips—words she barely recognized as her own. Her body clamped down on him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her.

“Holy s**t,” Grayson groaned, his voice tight with strain. She felt him tense behind her, and as his teeth grazed her shoulder in a sharp, possessive bite, another c****x ripped through her, unexpected and all-consuming.

They collapsed against the door, their breaths heavy, the silence punctuated only by the sound of their slowing heartbeats. For a moment, the world narrowed to nothing but the heat of their bodies and the aftermath of shared release.

But then reality began to creep in.

Vivienne stared at the doorframe in front of her, her palms still pressed against the wood. Her body was still humming, but her mind was racing, piecing together the fragments of what had just happened. What the hell was she thinking? Why, out of all people, had it been Grayson Blackwood—again? The same Grayson who had made her high school years a living hell. The same Grayson whose family would rather see hers bankrupt than successful.

She pulled away, her movements jerky as she reached for the hem of her skirt to straighten it. Her chest tightened with a mixture of regret, frustration, and something she refused to name.

Grayson, still leaning against the door, caught her eye, his expression unreadable. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer than she’d expected.

Vivienne didn’t trust herself to answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind a tangled mess of emotions she wasn’t ready to untangle.

Grayson had always been her weakness, hadn’t he? The one she couldn’t resist even when she tried. High school, that stupid night in the car... and now this. She should have learned by now. People like him didn’t change. And people like her didn’t get to have reckless indulgences without paying the price.

As Grayson returned from the bathroom, her phone buzzed on the nearby table, the shrill sound cutting through the thick, charged silence. She grabbed it instinctively, seeing her father’s name flash across the screen. Her stomach tightened.

“s**t,” she muttered under her breath, glancing briefly at Grayson, who raised an eyebrow in question.

“I have to take this,” she said, her voice clipped, as she stepped into the adjoining room.