Their Fairy Princess (Office Intrigue Book 7)

by Nicole Edwards

  She pushed against me, then stared up in my face, smiled sweetly. “Well, I can tell you, if you ever want to invite me to dinner in the future, one of you guys can do the cooking.”

  “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  She was grinning, extremely proud of herself.

  “I’m going to check on Dante,” I told her. “Take your time. I’ll be a while.”

  “Don’t have too much fun.”

  I shook my head, chuckled. “No promises.”

  Leaving Heaven to cook, I headed toward the guest suite. I rapped on Dante’s door, then opened it. He was reclined on the bed, his hair wet from his shower.

  “We really need to redecorate this room,” I told him. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

  I moved with purpose toward him, not hiding the reason I was there.

  “But I know what does feel like you.”

  He stared up at me, complete surrender on his face. “What’s that, Master?”

  “You.” I placed one knee on the bed, moved over him, my lips hovering over his. “You feel like you.”

  His breaths were shallow, faster than a second ago.

  “Kiss me, Dante.”

  He lifted his head, meeting my mouth with his. I sucked in a breath. My need for him had been building, my leash on it ready to snap. Now that I’d succumbed to the realization that I had to have him, there would be no stopping this.

  He moaned softly when my tongue met his. I rolled onto my back, taking him with me, crushing his warm body against mine. While our tongues danced, seeking, searching, I lifted his T-shirt, breaking apart only long enough to force it over his head.

  My hands itched to touch, roaming over his skin, feeling the flex of his muscles, his warmth, his strength. I slid my hands into the waistband of his shorts, cupping his ass as I forced the fabric down. I wanted to feel him, and I wanted him to know what my intentions were.

  And while I was eager for him, I had absolutely no intentions of rushing. I was going to take my time learning every inch of his delectable body.

  With my tongue.

  Dante

  The gleam in Ian’s eyes had been present from the second he stepped through the door. I knew what he wanted, could feel his need coming off him in waves.

  Me.

  That was what he wanted.

  Not simply sex, not to take from me without giving back.

  I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did. He wasn’t like most men. Ian and Isaac were controlled, patient. And while they were quite open about their sexual preferences, their erotic desires, it wasn’t just a way for them to quench their thirst.

  The way Ian’s hands squeezed my ass, grinding his thigh against my cock, I felt him slowing things down. His kiss was nirvana. And while he gave me the illusion I was in control, I knew better. Then again, he knew that was what I needed. The illusion. I had no desire to be in control. Not with him, not with anyone. I wanted this, wanted his dominance.

  He rolled us again. This time, when I was beneath him, he didn’t hover over me. I felt his weight on me, but it wasn’t crushing. It was safety, security. He didn’t scare me, although I think somewhere deep down, he worried he might. I could’ve told him that wasn’t going to happen. I’d been scared plenty in my life, could feel evil in people, had since I was little. There was no evil here.

  His lips trailed down my jaw, my neck. I turned my head, giving him better access.

  “I want you to lie there,” he whispered roughly. “Lie there and enjoy what I’m doing. I want to taste you.” He lifted his head, looked in my eyes. “And when I’m satisfied with that, I’m going to bury myself deep inside you, make you beg me to let you come.”

  “Please, Master,” I whimpered, bowing my body toward him, inviting him to do just that.

  “I want to hear you, Dante. I want the whole fucking house to hear you. I want there to be no question as to what you like. Understand me?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  His lips grazed mine, slid over my chin, down my neck. I tilted my head back, moaning softly as his warm mouth trailed over my nerve endings. He took his time, never rushing. His tongue wandered over my shoulders, down one arm, all the way to my fingers, then back up before he did the same with the other. I didn’t move but he did. Lifting my hands, sucking my fingers, one at a time, into his mouth. He tickled the crook of my arm with his tongue, licked over my bicep, then all the way to my nipple. He nipped me, causing me to cry out as brutal pleasure slammed into me.

  “Let me hear you,” he growled.

  As his mouth continued its delicious assault, I grew louder, more desperate. He was driving me fucking wild, insane with need. His warm breath fanned the swollen head of my cock seconds before he licked me, making my body twitch. When he took me in his mouth, it took everything in me not to reach for him, to hold him there.

  “Master … oh, fuck…” I threw my head back, my hips lifting, trying to take more than he was giving.

  He chuckled, a sexy sound that danced down my spine.

  Ian took me all the way to the root, the head of my cock spearing the back of his throat, but he didn’t remain there for long. A vicious tease that had my insides quaking.

  Kneeling between my legs, Ian took my hand, curled my fist over my cock.

  “Stroke slowly,” he ordered before his lips trailed the inside of my thigh, lower.

  I lay there, completely blissed out as adrenaline pumped through me, my cock rock hard, throbbing. I swiped my thumb over the sensitive crest, hissed, never looking away as his lips moved down my leg, over my knee, my shin, my foot. He sucked my second toe into his mouth, and I could’ve come right then and there. I’d never in my life had this sort of attention. He didn’t miss an inch of me, teasing, tormenting, his eyes hot as they caressed my face, watching.

  I ensured he heard me, verbalizing the pleasure he drew out of me one second at a time, just as he’d instructed. As promised, he took his time. When he asked me to roll over, I knew he wasn’t finished. He lay out over me, his weight draping me like a warm blanket. His lips grazed my neck, my shoulders.

  “I want you, Dante. Do you even know how much?”

  “No, Master.”

  He ground his hips against my ass, his lips continuing their delicious assault on my skin. “I want to feel you wrapped around me.”

  I thought for a moment he would take what he wanted, but he didn’t. He merely trailed that skillful mouth over me again. My shoulders, the backs of my arms, my fingers once more, covering every inch he hadn’t yet explored. He teased his tongue down my spine and I moaned, the pleasure intense. I hadn’t realized how erotic this could be.

  He bit my ass cheek. I cried out, pleasure assaulting me again and again. He spread my cheeks, licked downward, over my asshole, teasing momentarily before continuing down to my thigh.

  “Master … it feels so good. Like nothing I’ve ever felt. Please don’t stop,” I pleaded.

  “Never,” he growled. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

  The promise in those words had my chest filling with emotion. I’d longed to hear those words from someone. Anyone.

  Once again kneeling between my thighs, he bent my knee, licked my ankle, the arch of my foot, once more taking a toe in his mouth. He performed the same action on the other leg. By the time he was done, I was a panting mess, boneless and aching at the same time.

  He leaned over me. I watched as he retrieved a condom and lube from the nightstand. They hadn’t been there when I first arrived, because I had searched every inch of the room, checking for cameras. I hadn’t expected them, but it was still something I found myself doing. There hadn’t been any. Ian and Isaac weren’t trying to invade my privacy, something I’d rarely had throughout my life. Not until I had my own house. Still, it was something I checked daily. Good thing, too. Not long after Roger had raped me the first time, I’d found a camera installed in my bedroom. For a solid week after, I’d slept in the living room. When he asked me where I’
d been, I knew he hadn’t been talking about the club. He’d been watching me, and it creeped me out.

  “Once we have your test results, we won’t be using these,” Ian rumbled. “I’ll want you bare.”

  I nodded, fear slithering inside me. I hadn’t been tested since Roger had…

  “Here with me, Dante,” Ian growled into my ear. “Don’t you leave me right now.”

  He slid his hand over mine, twined our fingers as he pressed his lips over my shoulder.

  “No one is here but us,” he rambled. “You and me. I don’t want anyone else here. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master. I understand.” I cleared the evil thoughts from my head, focused only on him.

  “Turn over,” he ordered.

  Hesitantly, I rolled onto my back, confused.

  He positioned himself over me once more, twined both hands with mine, kissed me.

  “Who am I?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “My Master.”

  “Who am I?”

  Confused, I met his gaze. “Ian. My Master.”

  “Who are you giving yourself to right now?”

  “You,” I whispered. “I’m giving myself to you, Master.”

  “Then don’t leave me.” His eyes were hard, as though he could sense the evil that filled my head like a black, oily film.

  “I won’t,” I assured him.

  He kissed me, deep and long. Soft, gentle, still the hunger was building, the need overwhelming.

  When he pulled back, I watched him. He knelt between my legs, rolled the condom on, his attention never leaving me. He took his time and I realized it was to give me the chance to use my safe word if I needed to.

  “Green, Master,” I said on a rough whisper. “So fucking green.”

  He nodded, as though he’d needed to know that.

  When he stroked himself, I started to turn over, but he stopped me with a firm hand on my thigh.

  I stared up at him, my confusion evident.

  “I’m going to look in your eyes when I take you.”

  I swallowed hard. I’d never been with a man like that. They’d always taken what they wanted and the easiest way to do that was from behind, not rough but mean. It had started when I was young, the men my father would allow up to see me in the attic.

  “Dante!” Ian growled, his tone hard.

  I snapped open my eyes, not realizing I’d shut them.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice softer as he leaned over me. “Don’t leave me again. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, felt the emotion building.

  Ian shifted one of my legs back, toward my chest. Then the other. He kissed me throughout, his lips firm yet gentle. I could feel his hunger, his need. He was holding back. For me.

  I was breathing hard but not from fear. My desire for him was too great. Potent. Overwhelming. When he pushed inside me, I cried out as the pleasure swamped me. There was no pain.

  He lay out over me, twining our fingers again as he rocked into me.

  “Stay here with me, Dante. Look at me.”

  I kept my eyes on his face, saw the intent in his gaze. He wanted to give me pleasure, not take.

  When I tried to look away, he used his free hand to hold my jaw.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “Tight, hot.” His eyes snapped on mine. “Perfect.”

  His pace never changed, the perfect rhythm to have me begging and pleading. Just a little more.

  “Say my name,” he ordered.

  “Master.”

  He nipped my lower lip. “Not who I am. Say. My. Name.”

  “Ian,” I whispered harshly.

  “Hold on to me.” There were more words, Irish words whispered in that rough brogue that drove me wild.

  With my arms wreathing his neck, Ian pumped his hips, driving into me, the pleasure building as strongly as the pressure in my chest, the emotion I couldn’t hold back. I buried my face in his neck, moaning softly, saying his name over and over as he took us both to the edge, held us there.

  “Oh, fuck…” I groaned, the sound tormented only because it was too much, overwhelming with its intensity. “Master … please … I’m—fuck, I’m going to come.”

  “Come for me,” he growled, his words vibrating over my skin.

  His arm slid beneath my back, holding me to him as he drove into me again and again. I couldn’t have let go if I’d wanted, my arms secured around him as my body, strung tight, threatened to shatter.

  “Come for me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. Again, more words in Irish, these spoken with reverence.

  His hips drove forward again and again, his grunts and groans the music I moved by until I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  “Oh, fuck!” I cried out, my muscles locking as my cock pulsed between us.

  Ian drove into me once more, growled low in his throat, his arm tightening around me as he came. His body jerked and twitched, never letting me go until I relaxed beneath him.

  And then, when Ian could’ve easily slipped out of the room, he didn’t. He kissed me. Softly, sweetly. It lasted as long as the foreplay, or it felt like it, anyway.

  “I want something from you tonight,” he said softly, pulling back, staring down into my face.

  “Anything, Master.”

  His eyes searched mine. “I want you in my bed.”

  I sucked in air, almost told him I couldn’t.

  “Thirty minutes,” he said before I could refuse. “That’s all I ask. Thirty minutes. I want to hold you for that long. Then you can come back here. I won’t push for more, but I need this.” Once more with the Irish words.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, still trying to come up with a way to refuse.

  He smiled softly. “The literal translation is my heart’s beloved.”

  My breath left my body in a rush.

  “Thirty minutes. That’s all I ask. For now.”

  I nodded, unable to deny him anything he asked of me.

  “Thank you.” He smiled, tacked on something else in that delectable brogue.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “My pet,” he said with a chuckle, then dipped his head, kissed me softly before climbing out of bed. “I’m sure dinner’s ready. Get dressed. Join us.”

  “Yes, Master,” I said, sighing.

  It was then I realized there was a smile on my face.

  That, too, was a first.

  NINETEEN

  Heaven

  While I cooked, I usually listened to music, took the opportunity to relax.

  That hadn’t been the case tonight.

  Sure, it had been a thought, right up until I heard the sounds coming from Dante’s bedroom. The soft grunts, moans. That had been the music I had worked to this evening. And as I did, I had let the images form. I’d never seen two men make love, but it was a fantasy that burned hot when I thought about Ian and Dante.

  And though I’d had sex with both men—something I certainly wouldn’t brag about to my friends—I felt no jealousy that they were together. In fact, I was glad they’d finally given in. I might not have been the most perceptive person in the world, but I’d noticed the way Ian and Isaac had been keeping their distance from Dante.

  Lucky for them, that didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

  Funny, so much had happened in the week we’d been in this house. Most of it transpiring between the four of them, but I could admit, the experience had changed me, too. Not that I was any closer to thinking this lifestyle was my thing. Nope. Still a one-man woman right here. But I liked that they respected that and still extended the offer to include me. But there was a bigger dynamic at play here, one that I was intruding on. I could sense my presence was like a brick wall resurrected on the freeway. Completely out of place and doing nothing except hindering progress.

  What was more interesting? I had accepted it without disappointment. I think that was a turning point for me, a bit of growth on my part.

  I was frying the last pork c
hop when Ian returned.

  I glanced over, smiled. His hair was mussed, his eyes hooded. He looked sated, relaxed.

  “Two minutes,” I told him. I had taken my time, especially after I realized what was going on in Dante’s bedroom.

  Ian walked over, put his arms around me, held me to him. I hugged him back, inhaling his scent. He smelled like Dante and sex mixed with his unique, delicious scent.

  “The things I mentioned earlier,” he said softly. “Let’s keep that between us.”

  Things being his feelings for Everly, I knew.

  I nodded as he released me. “Of course.”

  “Thanks.”

  He disappeared toward his bedroom and I finished the food.

  Dante appeared. He looked similar to how Ian had. Satisfied, relaxed.

  “Hi,” I greeted. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  His eyes searched my face, as though he expected me to say something. I realized then I needed to. The last thing I wanted was for him to wonder.

  “About earlier … I really don’t want things to be weird between us.”

  “They’re not weird,” he said, though I got the impression he wasn’t being exactly truthful.

  “Good.” I took his hand, tugged him toward the kitchen. “Now, you get drinks. I’ll get food.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ian returned a few minutes later.

  “Are Isaac and Everly joining us?” I asked as I brought in two plates piled with food.

  “No,” Ian said. “I checked on them. Everly’s asleep already.”

  I smiled knowingly. Good sex could take it out of a girl.

  “I’ll put theirs in the refrigerator. They can heat it up later.”

  Ian nodded.

  “Were you born in Ireland?” Dante asked, surprising us both because it was rare he talked unless prompted.

  Ian turned his full attention on Dante. “Aye.”

  “How long have you been in the US?”

  “My father moved us here when we were sixteen,” he said conversationally. “He came here for work. Corporate type.”

  “Is he still here?”

  Ian shook his head, took a pull from the beer I’d brought him.

  “No. He went back after we graduated.”