Grace Marlowe was a bitch. A beautiful, golden haired bitch. They thought she was flawless, but later they would know that she was anything but. Frankly, she was vain. She was selfish. She was cold. She have never had any friend and she thought she...
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GRACE SIGHED CONTENTLY as she snuggled deeper into the warm mattress. It was still dark outside of the tent, but she was wide awake and couldn't find it in herself to sleep. She wanted to drown in this feeling of satisfaction and pure bliss forever.
"You know," Bellamy Blake's deep voice whispered huskily, breaking the peaceful silence around them. "The Earth actually is not that bad."
Grace rotated her eyes, but she rolled over and propped her head up on one elbow, staring down at the man beside her. "Of course you'd say that after I gave you the best sex of your life."
The corner of his mouth quirked. Grace Marlowe always looked beautiful, but in that particular moment, as her famous golden locks messily hung over her naked shoulder, and her thick full lips red and swollen, Bellamy thought she looked absolutely divine.
"Don't tell me you didn't think it was great," he challenged, knowing very well that her moans and cries as their bodies moved together had already confirmed her thoughts on the matter.
"It was great, in fact I'd say you are probably one of the best I've ever had," Grace winked playfully.
Bellamy actually looked offended. "Only one of the best? You're on!"
The twenty-two years old girl laughed as the man instantly moved his body to be on top of her, their skins set fire to each other, and she failed miserably to stop her moans as he started to pleasure her again with his hands and lips.
"Fuck," she whimpered, her hands twisting and tugging his hair as her body squirmed under his touch. "Okay. You won."
Bellamy lift his head from her generous, soft breasts and smirked smugly. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Definitely wasn't as hard as you now," she replied with a smirk of her own, noticing the hot flesh pressed against her inner thigh.
Bellamy groaned. "That's your damn fault!"
"Are you gonna let me make it up to you?"
And so their third, maybe fourth round of intense pleasure and intimacy began. When they finally finished, Grace found herself lying over his toned chest, his muscled arms holding her tight and silence filled the tent once again.
This time, it was Grace who broke it.
"How did you get into the drop ship?"
She didn't expect him to actually answer. However, he spoke very softly, and she thought she misheard him at first.
"I killed the Chancellor."
Her finger that had been absent-mindedly tracing his taut abs paused in mid air. "What?"
"I killed the Chancellor," he repeated, and she couldn't possibly misheard him this time.
Slowly, she lift her head, looking up at him and his troubled coffee-colored eyes.
