by Demi Donovan
And I mean it.
“Good girl,” he says, slipping his hand behind my neck and using his thumb to push my chin so I’d look up at him. “Good girls get rewarded.”
I’m soaking through my panties when he says that, my palms flat against the wall. I’m breathing in hard, shallow bursts. My pussy still aches a little from what Callum and Troy did to me, and I can’t believe I want more after that, but I do. I want Austin.
And Callum. And Troy.
He dips his face lower, closer to mine, his lips hovering maybe half an inch from mine. I can see the delicious curve of them, that strong Cupid’s bow, that lower lip that should be sucked on. He stays there for what feels torturously long until I can’t take it anymore, and I’m the one to lean in first, to kiss him first.
The moment our lips meet, it’s like fireworks go off inside me. His mouth is demanding, but soft. He controls the kiss from that second on and I melt into it, my hands grabbing at his arms to keep myself up because my knees want to buckle.
He tastes… He tastes amazing.
Austin’s tongue pushes into my mouth and I moan into it, sucking on it. Our tongues lap together, cross and weave and I’m pushing myself against him, practically rubbing my body against his.
That makes his kiss turn more brutal. Instead of being gentle any longer, he bites down on my lower lip and I yelp, my nails digging into his rock-hard biceps. Before I know what happened, he’s picked me up and slammed my back against the wall, bringing me even with his face so he can kiss my lips and my chin and my neck, sucking on it just hard enough that I worry I might have marks.
I have no doubt that he’d like to leave me with some.
“Austin,” I gasp.
Guilt strikes me as he lets my mouth go, allowing me a breath that isn’t his, clearing my mind the tiniest bit. I can’t do this if he doesn’t know what I did with his brothers today…
“Don’t speak,” he growls, pulling my shirt over my head and exposing my tits to him.
My back’s against the cool wall of the bungalow as he holds me up against it, seemingly without any effort at all. But I have to say something, right? I don’t know who I want… Especially if I’m not supposed to want any of them at all.
All of them isn’t the answer.
“Austin, I met with your brothers today,” I say, fighting hard to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head as his hands traverse the length of my body, squeezing my thighs and then moving up to cup my breasts gently.
“I know,” he says, his voice dark.
I freeze.
“You… know?”
“Yes,” he replies simply, his blue eyes on mine now.
He rolls his thumbs lazily over my nipples, pinning me tight against the wall so I’m being held up by my legs around his waist and my hands on his shoulders.
“While I don’t prefer that option, they told me everything. And we made a deal.”
“A deal?” I ask, mustering what little rationality I have so far and using it to fight my urge to tell him to just keep going and forget about the fact that I ever brought this up.
“Yes. We agreed that none of us will go too far with you. Not unless you ask us to. But I want what’s mine and you’re going to be mine right now,” he growls, and I have no more objections to that.
He buries his face in my tits and laps and licks at them, covering them with his hot mouth. I squeal, tensing as he teases me, my pussy so wet now. The thought of these three men all wanting me that bad… It’s amazing.
As amazing as this moment right here with this sexy, controlling, possessive beast of a man, who I can see myself fucking as much as I can imagine myself having long conversations about just about anything.
“Okay,” I push through gritted teeth, followed by a gasp as he slips one arm around my body and then yanks at my panties.
He doesn’t bother to take them off the proper way. Instead, he rips the seams and discards what’s left of them somewhere behind him, letting the torn shreds land on the bed. I whimper, my pussy now naked to his view.
I need him so bad that it hurts. It physically hurts.
He slides a hand down my stomach and then over my mound. When he pulls back to show me his fingers, they’re coated with my juices. Austin grins.
“Beautiful,” he says, and then he licks his fingers clean.
I watch him, mesmerized. This can’t be for real...
“What do you want, honey?” he asks me then, running that same hand down my neck, putting just a little bit of pressure on it.
I can feel the slickness of his fingers, his saliva wetting my skin a little. Every breath is a conscious struggle now and I love it, pressing myself against him tighter. I never thought I’d like something like that but being controlled by him is… oh my god…
“You need to tell me, honey, or I’m going to have to choose myself… But you were a good girl and you deserve to pick your prize,” he tells me.
I look at him, struggling for words. What could I possibly say? Just him being here is a dream come true, a dream I would have never dared dream…
“Fine,” he says suddenly, picking up on my indecision.
He lets go of my neck and grabs me by the ribcage. With one smooth motion, he’s lifted me higher along the wall and then made me loop my legs over his shoulders as he sinks down to his knees. I’m straddling his shoulders and his face is right between my legs.
Austin slams me back with one hand on my chest, making sure I stay put, as he runs his tongue down the length of my aching pussy. My legs spasm immediately.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, staring in disbelief at what he’s doing to me.
“That’s not my name,” he growls, and it reverberates through me as he twirls his tongue over my clit and makes me whine.
My thighs clench around him hard, so he uses one hand to part my legs for him a bit and keep me at bay. He’s so strong that it’s no problem for me, even when my body’s fighting against the massive sensations. Austin doesn’t give me a moment of relief.
His assault is brutal, his tongue doing things to me that make my core pulse and my skin break out in goosebumps. I’m losing my mind and he hasn’t even opened me up yet.
My back arches against the wall as he sucks on my clit a little, just enough to make me beg, it seems. He likes torturing me, bringing me to the edge. I curl my fingers in his hair, trying to make him let me fall into that chasm that is waiting for me with my orgasm, but I am not in control.
I’ve fought so hard to be in control of everything in my life that I had no idea how good it could feel when I give that control to someone else. Like Austin, or Troy, or Callum. They’re so adept at taking it and making me submit to it that I start to wonder how I could have ever lived any other way.
And I don’t even know them.
“Austin,” I gasp as he teases me with his tongue and lips, eating me out.
He chuckles and I gasp.
“That’s more like it,” he says. “I want you screaming my name, baby.”
I nod my head blindly, my eyes closing as he pushes his tongue into my slit. Slowly, he keeps pushing in and out of me, every motion bringing with it shudders and muscle spasms that I can’t control.
He moves upwards again, giving my clit the attention that it needs, while pushing his fingers into me now. They’re almost as thick as Callum’s were, but longer. And he curls them immediately, pushing against a button that Callum made me realize I had. I buck like a wild thing and he presses me harder to the wall, using the hand that he has on my chest.
I claw at it, letting go of his hair. He doesn’t care.
“Austin,” I wail, feeling my orgasm building to a point where I couldn’t stop it any longer.
And why would I want to? I don’t even remember what my reasoning was before. All I know is that I want to come and I want it to be thanks to Austin.
“Come for me, honey,” he tells me.
And I do.
I unravel at the seams, s
creaming my head off. I think every second sound I get off is Austin’s name, and my nails are scraping at his arm without my control as I buck and writhe against him, trying to get more. He gives me everything I could ever need.
If it weren’t for his hand on my chest, I would have slumped to the side and fallen as I go limp. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck… and I want it to happen again.
Gently, and without any help from me, Austin gathers me up and bundles me against his chest, carrying me to the bed. He lays me out on it and crawls onto the big California King right next to me. His arm loops around me and pulls me against his chest.
It’s only now that I realize how sweaty I am, feeling his body against mine. I don’t have the energy to do anything about it.
He runs a finger down my chin again and then tucks a couple of stray strands of hair – though they’re all stray as far as I’m concerned at this point – behind my ear.
“Next time, I expect you to invite me in right away,” he tells me.
I expect him to break out in a grin, but he doesn’t. I nod, my breath hitching a little. He has the kind of presence I have only heard about, the capability to control a situation with masterful ease.
To control me.
“Good girl,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
It feels nice. I wish he’d do it again.
Before I could come off my high properly, he’s getting off the bed, putting his shoes on and heading for the door. I want to stop him, but I don’t. I shouldn’t, right? This basically never happened… as far as the rest of the world should be concerned.
“I’ll be seeing you around,” he tells me at the door, giving me a wink.
I meet it with a smile, a delirious one, but a smile none the less. He steps out and I can see his shadow moving away from the bungalow through the window until he disappears out of sight.
What have I gotten myself into?
Thirteen
Lily
I’m not sure what’s more terrifying. Meeting Robert Stephenson to begin with… or meeting him after I’ve done unspeakable things with his three sons. All on the same day of meeting him.
In any case, I’m not feeling entirely calm and calculated as I sit in the cozy little nook off the lavish dinner lounge, barely secluded enough to be called private. Dinner service ended a long time ago and the only things opened around the resort are the bars, but that doesn’t seem to bother Robert Stephenson any.
After all, he’s the guy who scheduled the meeting at the stroke of midnight.
I can’t help but yawn, tapping my fingertips on the folder I have with me. It’s been a long day, both more relaxing than I could have expected due to the absolutely explosive orgasms I’ve received, and entirely exhausting for the same reasons.
Robert Stephenson steps in, pulling the sliding glass door shut behind him, just as I’m in mid-yawn. Of course.
“You must be the little shark Milan sent after me,” he says cheerfully, sitting down across from me in a wicker chair, nursing a glass of whiskey.
Considering the flush on his cheeks and neck, I’m pretty sure it isn’t his first one. But it’s also obvious that he isn’t inebriated enough to not be accountable for his words – just in a bit of a better mood than he may have otherwise been, I guess. Then again, I’ve been taught not to assume anything.
If I would have heeded that, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in the arms of three men, who all happen to be brothers, in the course of one day.
Maybe.
“I am,” I say, moving to rise from my chair to shake his hand.
He motions me to sit back and we shake across the table, sharing warm smiles. His grip is firm and tight, not an ounce of hesitation.
I’m not surprised by it, having some, ahem, close relations with the men he’s raised lately.
“My name is Lily Morris and as you know I’m here on behalf of-“
“Stop right there,” he says, putting the glass on the table and leaning back comfortably, eyeing me with some amusement.
I can see where Austin gets his hawkish gaze.
“I know who you are, honey, and I know why you’re here. Do you know why I’m here?” he asks, waving around himself vaguely.
I frown.
I’m not sure if I’m equipped to play mind games at midnight, but I guess I’m going to have to take a crack at it.
“Because you’re interested in ironing out the details of your settlement before your next wedding?” I ask.
It sounds more tentative than I’d like, but I put on a straight face and roll with it. This day has thrown me enough curveballs. I’m deciding to take the situation by the horns and try and make my future interactions go in the direction I want them to.
Starting with this one. I can’t control his sons, but maybe I can at least coax Robert Stephenson in the right direction.
He laughs outright and I can feel my temper flaring at that. I’ve had enough crotchety old men not take me seriously to last me a lifetime, I’m not about to let another one have a go at me.
“I don’t see what’s funny about that,” I say icily.
Robert quiets his laughter to a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“You have to understand something,” he says, leaning closer and prompting me to do the same, as if he’s about to share some grave secret with me. “I don’t fucking care if I get this divorce through or not.”
He falls back, obviously satisfied with the expression flashing across my face. What the fuck?
“With all due respect, Mister Stephenson, if you do not get a divorce from Milan Raleigh-Stephenson, you will not be eligible to marry someone else. Neither the State of Hawaii, nor any other state in the nation, endorses polygamy.”
He chuckles again, grabbing his whiskey and taking a sip. I wait patiently.
Pointing at the folder in my hands, holding the most recent draft of the divorce agreement already signed by Milan, he starts again.
“You see, that piece of paper has no meaning to me. Milan wants me to sign it, and I don’t want to. So I won’t. I am perfectly fine with simply having the ceremony here and legalizing the union at a later date.”
He doesn’t add ‘a date that would be more annoying for Milan’, but that’s how I interpret it.
“I understood that the details of the settlement had been thoroughly vetted by both parties, the documentation refers to that and Milan Raleigh-Stephenson-“
“Just call her Milan,” Robert says, a note of boredom etching into his tone.
“Fine. Milan attested to that as well. May I ask, what has changed? Is there a specific point that you would like to discuss?”
As much as Milan wants this to be over with fast, I do too. The sooner I have these papers signed, the sooner I can get out of here. Get away from the three men I should not be daydreaming about, let alone meeting… or allowing them to go down on me or fingerfuck me. None of that is okay and I’m pretty sure that the longer I stay here, the more I’m going to think that it’s a kind of normalcy I could get used to.
“Nope,” he says cheerfully, kicking back the last of his whiskey. “All I wanted to tell you is that I am very happy you could make it to my happy occasion, and to relay to Milan that if she wants to get rid of me, she’s going to have to do it herself.”
“Are you implying that you would like her to attend the ceremony?” I ask tentatively.
There’s a gleam of mischief in his eyes and I recognize it as the mirror image of the way Austin looked at me the moment we decided to run from the librarian instead of staying there to face the consequences.
I know it can only mean trouble.
“So you give her a call. Tell her to bring Candice with her as well. And enjoy the festivities, honey. It’s on me.”
He stands up, winks at me, and strolls out of the makeshift meeting room like this conversation never even happened, or at least like he already forgot about it. I’m left feeling just as confused as I am every time I par
t ways with a Stephenson, but this time for a whole other reason.
Seriously, what the hell is going on with the men in this family? Can none of them take the easy way out!?
I think I already know the answer.
Fourteen
Troy
“Boys,” dad practically bellows as he steps into the dining room that’s been set aside for us.
It’s on the beach, overlooking the gentle waves and the golden sand, and it’s just me, Austin, Callum and now dad. The men of the Stephenson family in one of those rare moments where we’re all together without a pesky stepmother in sight.
Those times have grown few and far between.
“Dad,” I say, receiving a tight bear hug from him, even though I’m something like twice his size now.
Robert Stephenson is no small man. He’s 6’1’’, with a large, cut frame, and he’s in surprisingly good shape for a man pushing sixty. Still, he’s an armchair trader and sports fan and I’m a recent NFL ‘graduate’, so it’s an unfair comparison.
“Good to see you, Troy,” he says with a grin, before moving over to Callum and then Austin, grabbing them with equal enthusiasm.
There’s a lot of back patting and shoulder smacking and horsing around for the first couple of minutes, everybody dancing around the elephant in the cabana with the greatest of care. No one wants to bring up Milan, or Candice, or Andrea before we have to. And maybe not even then.
“So, how have my boys been?” Robert Stephenson asks as all four of us have scooped serious helpings of breakfast foods onto our plates and the servants have cleared out after pouring us juice and coffee.
“We’ve been good, dad,” Callum starts, nodding before shoving a large forkful of blueberry pancakes in his mouth.
“Yeah. The station’s treating us well and we got all our finances settled with the NFL and the team. All the money’s in Austin’s caring hands now.”
We all give Austin a look and he just smirks, shrugging his shoulders.
“I swear to do the very best I can by it,” he says, putting a hand to his heart and rolling his eyes skyward.