Alphas & Fairytales: A New Year's Eve Anthology Page 33

  “We’re leaving,” he grumbles thickly.

  He moves fast. I stumble along, almost tripping before he slows his gait, mumbling sorry. Placing a palm on the curve of my ass, he ushers me toward the exit. I don’t turn to see if Noah is following. I’m scared to. I’m scared I want him to.

  In under thirty seconds we’re approaching the elevator bank and stepping into a steel cage that’s waiting patiently for occupants. Another couple follows us in before the door closes.

  But no Noah.

  I let that sink in a second or two, confused. I should be relieved. Why do I feel a little let down instead? Like I’ve been strung along then just snapped free?

  The man accompanying a petite blond inserts his key card, then touches the button for floor fifty-one. Our floor. Shaw notices, then drifts to the corner of the box, dragging me with him.

  Disappointment doesn’t have time to root that Noah’s not with us because Shaw presses my back to his front, setting his hands on my hips and his teeth to my neck. With a gentle flex of his fingers he guides my pelvis back so his erection digs into my lower back.

  We rise quickly, but not fast enough for Shaw’s liking. I note we’re already passing the thirtieth floor when I force myself to swallow a groan as his teeth graze upward and his fingers slide toward my center, which is slick and ready. Has been for hours.

  Thirty-three.

  Thirty-six.

  Shit. We’re not getting there fast enough.

  I reach down and stop him just as he’s breaching the slit in my dress.

  “I’ve waited patiently all night to feel how wet you are. I’m done.” He lets his wicked words pour into my ear on a husky rasp, uncaring if they’re overheard.

  And they are if the sharp inhale from the blond is any indication.

  Forty-two.

  Forty-five.

  “One more minute,” I whisper back, pressing his hand harder into my upper thigh to stop his trek as we rise higher in the hotel.

  Forty-eight.

  Hurry. Hurry.

  Forty-nine.

  “You’re going to be naked in under a minute, Goldilocks.”

  Shaw bends his knees; grinding his dick into the cheeks of my ass at the same time his teeth sink into my flesh enough to startle, not to hurt. But it’s the plucking of one taut nipple through the fabric of my dress that has me gasping, “Shaw, God.”

  Ding. Ding.

  Fifty-one.

  The doors open and I don’t wait for him. “Goodnight,” I manage to tell the other couple as I sprint ahead, knowing Shaw will be on my ass. I fumble for our room key, fingers grasping it just as we walk up to the door.

  He presses into me from behind, his breaths tickling my neck.

  “Let me.” He tugs the plastic from my shaky grip.

  Click, click.

  Reaching around me, he pushes down the latch. The second we step over the threshold my purse hits the floor, my back collides with the wall, and his mouth is on me, all over me, burning me. Stripping me down to base need. Every nerve is a living, breathing thing that’s ravenous and needs fed. Immediately.

  Noah is completely forgotten as Shaw lifts me easily in his arms and carries me through the suite to the stairs. I think he’s going to whisk us up to the bedroom, but he drops me at the base so I’m standing there, trembling with desire so strong it’s making me weak in mind and body.

  He takes a step back, runs his eyes over me just as he did when I came down earlier and starts to unbutton his shirt. The black tie that he undid when we were dancing is still hanging in that haphazardly sexy way against the pristine white cloth. It’s obscene how gorgeous he is.

  “While you look like a goddess of sex in that dress, Willow, it’s time for it to gather dust on the floor.”

  My eyes dart around. “Here? Don’t you want to go to the bedroom?”

  He just smiles. It’s his mischievous, don’t-fuck-with-me signature look I’ve come to love and hate equally.

  Guess that’s a yes.

  Only I don’t take to orders too well and Shaw knows this. Counts on it, even. I brush by him and make my way toward the staircase, tossing over my shoulder, “I think you should take it off me instead.”

  When he doesn’t reply, I stop and turn around.

  He’s already stalking my way, fingers picking apart those remaining buttons. He cocks a brow, a corner of his lip and his head all at the same time. I have to admit, it’s sexy as hell and I love it when this side of him comes out to play. “If that’s the way you want it,” he replies evenly.

  Uh oh.

  I like this dress.

  I step back, forgetting there’s a stair there and start to fall. But Shaw is quicker than gravity and catches me in time.

  I’m still bent slightly backward when he leans over me, getting nose to nose, husking, “See how much your sauciness gets you into trouble?”

  “Pure coincidence,” I assure him, blinking rapidly. Feeling safe in his arms.

  “Do you trust me, Willow?” Blustery eyes search mine endlessly. I feel as if I’m dropping like a rock in a thirteen-story building. My stomach is in my throat. My blood buzzes with boundless energy but fear that when I hit bottom I’ll be a shaped into a different me.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I trust you.”

  The corners of his mouth turn up, quick as a whip, then they flatten back out. His eyes fall to my mouth just seconds before his tilts his head and kisses me with passion and gratitude. He moves slowly at first, drugging me with each pass of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. The pressure builds. The kiss intensifies until we’re both moaning and breathless. He works me up to a fever pitch with nothing but the insane skill of his mouth.

  I whimper when he breaks free and I try to pull him back to me. He resists and smirks that cocky smirk that tells me he is in control. He decides when and what and where.

  “Fuck me right here,” I demand, wanting him to just lay me down where we stand and devour me with the steps digging into my back.

  “Right here?” he replies, a playful gleam in his eye.

  I wet my lips, smiling when his gaze follows the swipe of my tongue. “Yes. Right here.”

  He brings his mouth to my ear and I shiver when he rasps, “You want me to fuck you with my tongue right on these stairs, Willow? Until you’re panting and grinding your pussy against my face so hard I can barely breathe? Begging me never to stop?”

  My inner walls spasm and my clit has taken on a new heartbeat. His filthy mouth turns me on like nothing else. I swallow hard but the moment I answer, “Yes,” I’m being spun around so I’m facing the living area, my back flat to his front.

  “And what about Noah?” he asks, his cheek pressing level with mine. “Would you want him to fuck you with his tongue right on these stairs? Would you use his hair for leverage as you got yourself off against his mouth and let him lap up every drop of that decadent honey between your thighs?”

  Oh, fuck. I want to say no, but by the way moisture pooled in my core I know it would be a lie.

  It’s not until then I realize Noah is leaning against the wall that separates the entryway from the living area. Ankles crossed. Hands shoved into his pockets.

  He’s watching us.

  Waiting.

  Wanting.

  His jacket hangs open. His tie is gone. Dress shirt untucked, the top three buttons undone. His chest is smooth and sculpted, lips parted and swollen. Eyes glassy and greedy.

  He is a vision. Sex incarnate. Sin embodied.

  He is my soon-to-be-husband’s very best friend.

  And as a cocktail of sheer lust and raw yearning burns its way through me, causing my lungs to constrict, he’s a mistake I can’t say no to.

  “You say so, this ends,” Shaw declares against the shell of my ear, as if reading my mind. “Tell me you understand.”

  Everything on me feels heavy. My eyelids. My limbs. My lungs. My fingertips and tongue. I nod, unable to get anything else to work.

  I
suddenly feel weightless, outside of myself when Shaw takes one slight strap of my dress and slowly pushes it down. It falls to my waist, the double-sided tape I’d put on earlier no match for the sweat pouring off of me for the last few hours.

  My eyes fasten to Noah’s, tight and sure.

  I can’t look away.

  I watch Noah watch me, taking shallow wisps of air in through parted lips.

  I watch his gaze break from mine, feathering down my trembling form.

  I watch his nostrils flare. His muscles clench. His lidded eyes blaze like dry brush caught fire.

  I should feel violated; feel disgusted with myself for allowing this. Only all I feel is this insatiable need inside me for these two men to take me on a forbidden ride I already know will be a one-time thing. Because this…this could get addicting.

  “You are so ungodly beautiful,” he tells me, voice dense and hoarse.

  Noah tells me this. Not Shaw. He’s busy eating his way across one shoulder blade to the other, where he does the same thing with the remaining strap, kisses peppering its fall down my arm.

  The dress, now bunched at my waist still covers my lower half, but my entire upper body is now shamefully/shamelessly exposed to both men: I haven’t quite decided which one yet.

  I start to breathe heavy as Shaw reaches around and cups my breasts, fingers winding around my nipples. Tugging. Twisting and teasing. Making me gasp when he pinches a little too hard.

  “These are pure perfection,” he gruffs, hot breaths trickling down my neck. “Perky, tight nipples that beg for my mouth. Don’t they, Willow?”

  His fingers squeeze when I don’t answer right away and I squeak out a yes, all pretense at making this hard for him—for them—completely gone.

  Noah stays still, but his chest is heaving, and there is no mistaking the giant bulge in the front of his pants for anything other than the rock hard erection it is. When he reaches down, grabs and strokes himself over the slick fabric, I moan and let my head fall back to Shaw’s shoulder.

  “He wants to taste these. Bite them. Suck them. He’s dying to get his hands all over you.”

  “God,” comes out on a hard wash of lust. It might as well have been what the hell is he waiting for.

  Shaw slides one hand down, finding the zipper at my side. When he separates the teeth past the span of my hips, the gown billows softly to the ground, leaving me with a skimpy, black thong, two thousand-dollar heels, and a conscience that is nowhere to be found.

  Noah’s red-hot eyes glide down the length of my body, but laser in on the center of me when Shaw draws aside the crotch of my panties and two fingers disappear inside.

  “Oh fuck, yes.” His growled praise drips over me. “I love it when you get like this. So fucking wet I could bathe in it.”

  “Shaw,” I moan, unable to keep from writhing in his arms.

  “This first one is mine,” he says, circling his thumb ever so lightly over the cluster of nerves that now aches. “That’s it. God, you’re tightening already. So responsive, so greedy.”

  My walls pulse until the firestorm brewing inside starts to rage out of control. Until my body quakes and my legs give and I splinter apart into an embarrassingly fast orgasm so powerful spots blink in my vision.

  Blood roars in my ears as the climax continues to tingle its way through me. I can’t hear a thing Shaw is whispering, but I feel my panties being dragged down my legs before he shifts us both downward until he’s perched on a step and I’m in his lap. Grabbing both legs, he drapes them over his, splaying me open to Noah who is prowling across the room toward us. Lithe as a panther. Sexy as shit, if I’m honest.

  Noah swiftly tears apart the remaining buttons on his shirt, letting it hang before he works his trousers open, leaving the fly to dangle so I get a glimpse of stark grey briefs. Tight ones. That accentuate perfectly.

  Sweet baby Jesus…

  The want emanating from him is so potent any hesitation I had about what these two men are about to make me experience vanishes like mist in a stiff wind.

  I hold my breath as he kneels before me, flinching slightly when the warmth of his palms meets my knees at the same time Shaw cups a breast, running a thumb around my puckered nipple, making my back arch.

  “Are you nervous?” Noah asks, laying a light kiss to the inside of one quivering thigh. He never takes his eyes from me, waiting for me to respond.

  I wet my lips and nod because, holy hell, it’s virtually impossible to speak.

  “Don’t be.” He sets his lips a little higher this time. A little firmer, too, making sure I feel him. My muscles lock. “Relax, Willow. We’ll make it feel good,” that soft, hypnotic voice drawls, lulling me into belief.

  I bolt eyes with Noah until Shaw’s rough palm snakes around my jaw and possessively drags my mouth to his. He thrusts his tongue in to duel with mine, but I have a hard time concentrating on fighting back because Noah’s drawing a warm path up my leg, his mouth never leaving my skin, even for a second. He’s getting closer and closer to the place I crave relief but a quick flick of nerves causes me to instinctually attempt to close myself off. A simple flex of both Shaw’s thighs and Noah’s fingers won’t allow it, though.

  Brute strength. Authority. Carnality and determination. All radiate on electric currents that crash into me from every side. Merciful God, being surrounded by these two commanding, potent men is a dizzying feeling.

  Holding his hands against me, Noah keeps me open to him. Soft lips meet the sensitive skin at the junction of my pelvis and inner thigh. I feel the tip of his tongue press into me before flattening out. Licking. Moving all over me now. Learning me. Tasting me. Teasing, maybe even testing me, never quite breaching the center.

  Shaw swallows my long, broken groan as Noah finally laps the entire length of my slit before too briefly puckering his lips over those incredibly sensitive nerves at the top.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re sweet,” he mutters against my lower belly before nipping his way up my torso. My back strains when Shaw cups my other breast too, holding the heavy weight in his hand like an offering and, apparently well practiced, Noah doesn’t miss a beat. He latches on to one pert nipple, his other hand easing up to pluck at the other until I’m a mess. A fucking mess of urgent need, on the verge of begging for something—anything—to ease this incessant ache in my very core, which they are now both ignoring.

  I’m begging. In my head I’m begging because Shaw is still owning my mouth, stealing my voice. His hips thrust beneath me, his hardness teasing me when I need him to press his length inside instead.

  Noah’s mouth travels to my neck then my ear, hoarsely telling me, “I knew you would be addictive,” before he skates along my jaw and back down my body, sucking hard when he gets to my clit.

  I cry out, my mouth going lax against Shaw’s. Noah groans something low and unintelligible against me and I feel it reverberate deep inside, where I now feel empty, even though I’m so overcome with the sensations of four hands and two mouths that seem to move in perfect synch against me until I don’t know up from down.

  My whole body hums as Noah slides one arm under one thigh to pull me more firmly against his tongue. Then, oh God, he sinks two fingers in me, easily gliding through my abundant wetness.

  It’s too much.

  Noah’s touch.

  Shaw’s moans.

  Their sheer and utter focus on me. It’s all too much and I start rocking with complete and total abandon. Forgetting I’m with two men. Forgetting it’s all sorts of wrong. Forgetting tomorrow I’ll be filled with shame and regret.

  All I can concentrate on is reaching a high I never thought possible.

  “Watch him lick that pussy, Willow,” Shaw says so authoritatively I can’t not do as he demands.

  I let my heavy gaze travel down my body where it clashes with Noah’s. I shiver. My fingers feel numb. I’m going to come again.

  “He’s ravenous. Can’t get enough,” is poured in my ear, each wicked word ratcheting up
this bizarre need I seem to have. Heat scorches my cheeks, but my body…she’s on autopilot. Jumping from one pleasure stone to the next.

  “She’s close,” Shaw announces.

  “I know,” Noah mumbles against my wet, used flesh. “She’s squeezing the blood from my fingers.”

  God oh God oh God oh God. I’m there. I’m going to explode in Noah’s mouth while my fiancé watches. Shaw nips at my neck. Noah eats at me like a decadent meal. Fingers pinch. Nipples burn. The storm gathers strength below.

  “Come for him, Willow,” Shaw coaxes. Demands.

  Fire.

  Energy.

  Gratification.

  Tormented need.

  It all clashes with violence. Helpless under their ministrations, I detonate. My eyes slam shut as a kaleidoscope of light and heat barrels through me. I ride the drug that is ecstasy, until I sag against Shaw, spent. Eyes pinched closed, boneless and sated beyond belief.

  Ready for sleep.

  Only they’re not done with me yet.

  Not by a long shot.

  Chapter 5

  In a strong hold, I’m carried a short distance to the buttery-smooth cream leather couch and I instantly know why they’ve chosen this particular spot. It’s what drew me to this room the first footfall in.

  There’s an enormous mirror encased in dark wood the size of the wall beside it. It’s captivating. A little wicked. And in the blue rays of the midnight’s moon with two sets of starving eyes staring down at me: unbelievably hedonistic as I know we’re going to watch what’s about to transpire between us in its reflection.

  Shaw sets me down carefully, towering over me as his clothes appear to fall off right before my eyes. Out of my periphery I notice Noah is doing the same, shucking the remainder of his tux with frightening efficiency.

  And…

  Holy fuck.

  He is glorious.

  Inked. Hard. Thick. Pierced.

  Jesus H.

  Both of them are magnificence personified.