Bonnie On The Side // G.D. [PART TWO]*
Summary: {PART TWO - CANVAS} In the heat of the moment, after declining so many times, Y/N finally gives into her temptations to the ever so stunning Grayson Dolan, beginning something she wouldn’t be sure how to finish.
Warnings: Smut, mentions of marital issues/divorce, swearing, fluff, jealousy issues, and slight angst. Part One.
Y/N received a sudden notification in her personal email while scrolling through web, in an attempt to find Cassidy a various amount of intriguing options that her shopaholic heart craves. Deciding to feed into possible distractions, she clicks on the notification which takes her to her inbox, and she furrows her eyebrows at the message.
[email protected]: Hello, Y/N. I was just wondering, what do you think about trips to Paris?
She refrained from scoffing, not wanting to peak the curiosity of Donny, who sat cluelessly beside her. Is this man serious? Did he learn nothing of their conversation two nights ago? How many times will she have to tell him that she cannot participate in an affair with her boss’s ex-husband?
It was the biggest lie she ever told, being that her biggest traveling dream is the glorious city of Paris. But she needed something to stray him away. How on earth did this man get her email, anyway?
[email protected]: You are as bad as a liar as you are beautiful. When are you available this week? I recently moved into a house, and my room is looking awfully empty without any works of art filling its soulless space. I think your touch will give it life.
She cannot believe. He brought up his previous offer, that she initially declined, again. Perhaps this is why his marriage with Cassidy failed, both of their egos and refusing to take no for an answer clashed together.
[email protected]: Liar. What’s your number? It’s rather easy for me to find, but I figured I’d do it the proper and professional way by asking first.
Y/N huffed, prepared to type a response, when Mrs. Dolan’s office suddenly bursted open and she quickly switched tabs, obviously not wanting to be caught conversing with her ex. That little known fact makes her nervous enough.
“Y/N? Get into my office, please,” Cassidy calls, slamming her door shut.
Y/N rose from her desk, glancing at Donny who began chuckling, “At least she said please. Maybe today’s a good day.”
She rolled her eyes at her friend and took a deep breath before walking to the office, knocking first despite being invited. Cassidy grants her permission, and before she knows it, Y/N’s walking into a room filled to the brim with various of dresses scattered about. Her frantic boss looks up and glares, hissing quickly, “Close the door, this is a private matter.”
Y/N enters the room and shuts the door behind her, and questions cautiously, “What’s going on, ma’am?”
“What does it look like? I’m trying to pick a dress that will make Grayson regret the day he decided to divorce me, tonight there’s a fashion even we’re both invited to. I need a dress that will have him begging for my hand,” Cassidy boasts arrogantly, then let’s out a gust of air in exhaustion. “I need your advice. Which dress suits me best - the blue, or the red?”
She glances at the two pieces in her hand, both looking rather lovely and quite expensive (but to be honestly, would never flatter the woman in either way), but Y/N thinks back to the painting Grayson had purchased from her the other night. “I believe you should go for the blue, ma’am.”
“Don’t be daft, Y/N,” Cassidy snarled, narrowing her eyes. “Grayson has a thing for red! Use your brain for once, yeah?”
Then why ask her for her opinion? Y/N wasn’t in the mood for insults thrown her way. “I’m sorry-”
“Though I shouldn’t be surprised, the clothes you wear everyday is abysmal,” her boss scoffed, eyeing her down. “And that face of yours certainly doesn’t do you justice. How on earth will you ever get a man? Never, I suppose. At least I’ve been married. You, on the other hand, have no hope. Okay Y/N, you were no help at all. You are dismissed.”
Y/N leaves her office holding back her tears, though she shouldn’t be surprised. Cassidy always berates her on her appearance, though today was quite harsh. She knows it’s from the divorce, but that isn’t an excuse to consistently verbally abuse her employees.
She should report this as an act of revenge, but just as Y/N was about to walk towards HR, an idea crosses her brain. She wipes away her staining tears and sits back in her seat, ignoring Donny’s concerned look. She logs back into her email and rereads Grayson’s message, and by impulse her fingers are already scattering across the keyboard to form a reply.
y/ny/l/[email protected]: My phone number is 555-2415. After some thoughtful consideration, I have decided to accept your offer. I would love to paint a portrait for your bedroom.
And perhaps go on a spontaneous trip to Paris.
[email protected]: I am very much appreciative of your acceptance, Y/N, I cannot wait to see what your lovely mind creates. Are you available tonight at 10? I unfortunately have an event to attend to, hoping I don’t run into your dreadful boss.
[email protected]: No, thank you, Y/N. Also, one of these days I’m going to get you to call me Grayson. Anyway, I am looking forward to tonight. Feel free to dress in what you’re most comfortable in.
Y/N glanced at her boss’s office, a sly smirk crawling onto her face.
Grayson Dolan’s bachelor estate was ginormous, to say the least. It was clear he lived in the most wealthy side of the city, where not even Cassidy could afford. Y/N briefly wondered where he lived prior while married, but those thoughts left her mind when the door open and there stood the man himself - surprisingly clad in a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants. Gucci sweatpants, but sweatpants nonetheless.
“Y/N? I was going to message you about sending a car to your address,” he frowned, though inwardly pleases to see her anyway. “How did you arrive here?”
“I took a cab,” she shrugged, stepping into his grand foyer and trying not to gawk at high structurelg ceiling or the diamond studded chandelier. Though, he was correct about the lack of artwork donning his fine walls.
“A cab,” Grayson scoffed. “I will drive you back when you’re ready to leave. Are you planning to paint tonight? I don’t see your supplies.”
“If you don’t mind, sir, I am actually here tonight just to observe you absurdly boring wall and try to form an idea as to what vibe belongs to your residence,” she informs him, refraining an eye roll at his impatience. “This is a permanent fixture, it must be perfect.”
“Of course,” Grayson nods, motioning her to follow him with the tilt of his head. “Well then, let me show you the way. I’m sure you’ll get very acquainted with these directions soon.”
That was when she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, as she followed him up the spiral staircase to the second floor of his “humble” abode. To make conversation, Y/N decided to ask, “How was the event?”
“Incredibly boring. My ex pestered me the whole time,” he sighed, shaking his head. “By the way, I have a thing for gold.”
“My ex-wife wore red to the event in a pathetic attempt to seduce me in getting back together with her,” he laughed. “Even if she had worn the most luxurious of gold, that still wouldn’t convince me to fall into her trap. There’s also no doubt in my mind that she asked her assistant for advice on what to wear.”
“Yes, well, I actually told her blue, but apparently I’m too ugly to have a fashion opinion,” Y/N giggled, but softly gasped when Grayson stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head towards her, his beautiful hazel eyes filled with fire.
“What the fuck did that wench say to you?” he growled, inching himself closer to her.
She began feeling her heart pound against her chest from his intense proximity to her, as she replied, “It’s no big deal, sir. I’m used to her insults by now-”
“Did she make you cry?” No response. “Do not lie to me, Y/N. You can lie to me about anything, but not this.”
“A little bit,” she admitted, mentally cursing at herself when his jaw clenched even tighter. “But I’m truthfully over it now. Please don’t make this a bigger deal than it has to be, Mr. Dolan.”
“I despise people who don’t appreciate works of art,” Grayson huffed, slowly backing away from her as his rage diminished. “Don’t let Cassidy get to you, Y/N. You are the most beautiful flower around, she’s simply just jealous because she can’t compare. Also, if you call me Mr. Dolan one more time I’m going to bend you over and spank your pretty ass until you scream out my proper name.”
Grayson swiftly turned around and continued walking, like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just compared her art, or to a flower. Like he hadn’t just called her beautiful, and implied that his wife was jealous of her beauty. Like he hadn’t threatened to perform a sexual act of punishment on her. He walked so confidently, it took everything within Y/N not to jump his bones. Instead, she caught up to his pace, following him into the large, opened white doors that led to the largest master bedroom she has ever seen. It was certainly bigger than her entire apartment, maybe even the whole complex itself. But she also definitely detected something in it, a lack of a soul. The walls were blank and lifeless, an open canvas waiting to be filled. And it was funny, really.
Because Grayson Dolan acted like a canvas, too.
“Are your creative juices flowing?” he chuckled directly into her ear, causing her to jump. He gently placed his hands against her shoulders, his touch warm and calming her down, oddly. The stubble growing upon his sharp jawline scratched against the tip of her ear, and she would kill to maintain the feeling over and over again. “If they aren’t, I have an idea.”
“And what’s that?” Y/N questioned, her voice shaky.
But he paid no mind, continuing to utter in a suggestive tone, “You and I, naked and fucking, dripped in gold. I think it’d look nicely on the wall over my bed, don’t you think?”
“Hmm,” Y/N nodded, her mind a whirlwind of spinning thoughts that have yet to cease. “Is that what you want?”
Y/N spun around in his arms, his hands connected to her waist as she faced them, their lips incredibly close together. He was staring down at her harshly as she spoke, “You don’t need me, Mr. Dolan.”
His eyes darkened. “What did you say?”
“I mean Grayson,” she gulped, feeling him press against her body even further.
“No, I don’t think you did,” he murmured, his voice wicked and seductive. “Okay then. Bend over.”
“I tend to keep my word, Y/N. When I make a threat, I mean it. I told my wife if she pushed me any further I’d file for divorce, and I did.” He behind backing her up towards the king-sized bed, all neat and organized, awaiting the pair to make its use. “And I told you I’d spank you if you called me by my surname again, and I will. Now bend over.”
It was like her body listened to his commands before her brain could. Y/N found herself spinning on her feet, bending her body over the foot of his bed with her stomach laying flat and her ass hung in the air. She jolted forward when she felt Grayson caress her ass, his fingers slipping under the waistband of her leggings before pulling them down. Her legs were shaking with anticipation, her panties soaked, which soon slid off as well to expose her bare ass even more.
“Say my name after every strike,” he commanded, tapping the side of her ass in preparation. “If I feel satisfied enough, I will stop at ten.”
“O-Okay,” Y/N breathed, squealing with a sudden slap to her ass cheek sounded in the air with full force. “Oh! Grayson!”
“Good girl,” he hummed, rubbing the area where he had struck, before moving to her other cheek. Spank.
“G-Grayson,” she breathed, him massaging her sore cheeks again and her murmuring softly from the stinging, yet pleasuring pain. “Hmm…”
“You’re so fucking wet, huh flower?” he purred, his fingers inching towards her spread pussy, grazing its outline. “How badly do you want me to touch you?”
“R-Really bad, Gray,” she answered, feeling her core throb with every brush of his fingertip. Just a little closer…
“Fuck, baby, you can have it,” he groaned, pushing one digit in between her folds, a whimper leaving her mouth with delight as her walls clenched around him. “Oh, fuck, baby you’re so goddamn tight. Are you a virgin?”
Y/N felt her face heat up at his words, and she curtly nodded her head, embarrassed. “Yes…”
Grayson’s eyes widened, and he quickly spilled out, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have gone so rough-”
“No Grayson, it’s okay. Feels nice,” she assured, referring to her fingers still comfortably in her core.
“I know, flower, but your first time deserves to be gentle,” he whispered softly, slowly swirling his finger around and picking up on her pleasure. “Special…”
“This is special…” she sighed when he entered another finger carefully, thrusting at peaceful rate while eliciting calm moans of joy that fell off her lips easily. “Oh, Grayson…”
“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Grayson smiled, brushing his hand against her lower back that arched as a knot formed in the pit in her stomach, threatening to break loose. “You can cum, baby…”
She does so, letting her orgasm spill upon his buried fingers that slowly pull out, not wanting to hurt her. After doing so, she feels him push her bottoms up to cover her lower half, before being lifted and spun around in his arms. Before Y/N realized what was happening, Grayson had leaned in fully and pressed his lips firmly against hers…
And Y/N was kissing a married man.
A/N: part 2!! hope you liked it!
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