Protecting Their Princess: A Snow White Romance (Filthy Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Parker Grey

  “Sounds like the only way for me to know is to try it,” she says, her face still red, but with something wicked in her blue eyes.

  She wants this, I realize.

  She’s gonna do it. She’s gonna come out here, naked, into this hot tub.

  And sweet fucking Jesus, I’m going to have to resist her.

  Behind me, the door opens. I know it’s Beckett, so I just glance around, pretending to be perfectly casual.

  He gives me a long, hard look up and down. There’s no way he misses my bulging erection, but right now, I don’t even care.

  We’re even now, I think.

  “Want to help me with dinner?” he asks.

  I give Bianca one more long, lingering glance, and I swear the girl shudders.

  “Think about that offer,” I say, and follow Beckett back into the house.

  Chapter Ten

  Bianca

  I almost rip my clothes off right then and there, standing on the veranda of Kieran’s hunting cabin. He could tell me to do anything with that voice and I’d be completely helpless to do anything but obey him.

  He heads back into the cabin and I fight the urge, even as I make eye contact with Beckett, too, his voice echoing in my ear.

  Licking you until you come twice.

  Fucking you until you scream my name.

  I want it. My pussy is overflowing with juices right now, my knees practically weak. The bad, naughty part of me wants to tear off all my clothes and run after them beg them to take me, but I don’t.

  I can’t. Because I’m not that girl.

  I’ve never done more than kiss a boy before, and I have no idea how to seduce someone. I don’t even know how to pick which of them I want to seduce — the charming, sandy-haired Beckett, with the easy smile who teases me?

  Or Kieran, who’s dark and serious, with that purr of a voice that makes me want to fall to my knees?

  I can’t decide.

  I don’t know how to decide, but I know I’d have to — fantasies aside, having two men at once is just...

  ...It’s dirty. It’s filthy. It’s simply not done.

  Except it is, a voice in my head whispers.

  You know it is.

  And you know that no one ever has to know.

  I take a deep breath, smooth my hair.

  It’s just the trauma of being stalked and threatened that’s making you feel this way, I tell myself, except I know it’s a lie.

  How many nights did I lie awake the first time I met them, thinking of Beckett on one side of me, Kieran on the other?

  How many times did I pleasure myself thinking of them sharing me in the dirtiest, most intimate way possible?

  This isn’t new, think.

  It’s not new, and it’s not going away.

  And no one will ever have to know.

  I give my head a quick shake, turn on the hot tub so it can warm up, and then walk inside.

  My hands are shaking as I grab a towel from my bathroom. It’s also clearly from a bygone area, though it’s in perfectly good shape — it’s dotted with pink and green palm trees, along with the purple silhouettes of flamingos.

  I don’t even wonder why the palm trees are pink and not the flamingos. I’m that distracted.

  Slowly, in my own bedroom, I take off my shirt and jeans, tossing them both on a chair in the corner. My stomach is in knots, but even now I’m so wet that my upper thighs are damp.

  I grab a hair tie and pull my hair up so it won’t be in the water.

  And then I wrap the towel around myself, tuck the corner in, and turn the doorknob.

  You could be wrong, I remind myself. You’ve never done this before, you could be reading their signals all wrong and you’d have no idea.

  But then I think of having to spend another night here, alone. Quietly getting myself off, trying not to moan their names out loud.

  Knowing that they’re right next door, but not doing anything about it.

  There’s a crazy hacker collective out there, and they want me dead, or dismembered, or disgraced, or something. Don’t I deserve to have what I want in the meantime?

  I push the door open, my heart beating so fast I think it might explode, and I walk through the hallway, toward the kitchen.

  The moment I emerge, the conversation that Kieran and Beckett were having melts away into nothingness, and they both look at me.

  It’s not even a look.

  They devour me with their eyes. I can practically feel them already, hands whispering down my body as they invade my most secret places, whisper I’m going to lick you and fuck you and lick you again in my ear.

  Despite myself, I shiver, the sensation racing down my spine. The towel’s not very big — it covers me from chest to upper thigh, but I’m suddenly wishing that it either covered way, way more or way less.

  “Hi,” I say. “I was just going to try out the hot tub...”

  I trail off, licking my lips. As bold as I was feeling a few moments ago, all my courage is suddenly gone, and I can’t even say don’t come out there because I’ll be skinny dipping.

  Slowly, Beckett takes a chunk of carrot and pops it into his mouth.

  “Did you bring a swimsuit?” he asks, his gaze slowly raking down my towel-covered body.

  Just that makes my pussy throb, the way he’s looking at me like he already knows what’s underneath the palm trees and flamingos.

  “No,” I say, suddenly shy.

  “That means don’t go out there,” Kieran says, shooting Beckett a deadly look before resting his eyes on me again.

  Beckett ignores the look.

  “Need a hand?” he asks.

  Already, I can tell they both have erections, their stiff cocks pushing at their pants, straining against zippers. Despite myself, I bite my lip and stare.

  I’ve never seen a cock in person before. Sure, I’ve watched porn — Voravia does have the internet — but I’ve never been close enough to a naked one to touch it.

  I’m half a second away from loosening my towel, letting it fall to the floor, and seeing what happens, but I chicken out. Instead I lower my eyes, swallow hard, and walk through the kitchen.

  “I’m all right, thanks,” I say. “Call me for dinner, and no peeking until I’m in the tub.”

  “How are we supposed to know when you’re in if we don’t peek?” Beckett asks, grinning.

  Kieran makes a low noise in his throat, and I just scamper through the back door, heading for the hot tub before I can lose my nerve for that, too.

  It’s heated up nicely, and I swish my hand around for a moment before turning the bubbles on, then glance back at the door, still nervous.

  It’s too light outside for me to see through it well. For all I know they could both be watching me right now, just waiting for me to drop this towel.

  Or they could be totally immersed in chopping and prepping dinner, already having forgotten about me. I think that’s even worse, because after all... don’t I want them to be watching?

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and loosen the top of the towel, slowly unwinding it from around myself. I steel myself, then finally whip it off and toss it over the veranda railing, then get into the hot tub as fast as humanly possible, glancing over at the door as the frothy bubbles finally cover me.

  Relax, I tell myself. They can’t see you anymore.

  I close my eyes, letting my head sink against the side. I can’t shake the image of their erections from my mind, of both of them watching me, practically willing my towel off.

  I wonder if they can see me at all right now, I think. Water’s clear, even if the bubbles aren’t quite. Maybe...

  God, the thought of them still watching, their eyes locked on my form as I relax out here. My skin’s getting flushed with the heat of the water, but there’s another heat blossoming inside my core, this one velvety and molten.

  There’s a jet against my lower back, and I move my hips slightly, letting it ease the knots there. It feels good.
/>   It almost feels like someone massaging me, holding my hips, pressing his thumbs into my spine.

  I take another deep breath, eyes closed. My thighs part almost on their own, my fingers skimming over one nipple, just below the surface of the water.

  They’re not watching, I tell myself. They’re making dinner, they’re distracted, they can’t see anything anyway. They just think you’re relaxing in the tub.

  They’d never come out here, both of them together, one licking your nipples while the other held you against the side of the hot tub and fucked you hard with his enormous cock.

  That thought makes a ball of lightning practically explode inside me, just like it does every single time I have it. Before I know it, I’m sighing out loud, one hand pinching my nipple and the other rubbing my clit hard, legs spread wide as my hips move and buck in their own rhythm.

  But it’s okay, because there’s no way they can see me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Beckett

  I’ve still got the knife in my hand, dangling by my side. There’s a half-chopped carrot on the cutting board, but it may never get chopped. I couldn’t care less.

  Because we’re watching Bianca get herself off in the hot tub.

  Right there. In plain fucking view.

  We’re both watching her, from opposite sides of the kitchen island, both frozen in place, whatever we were doing before completely and utterly forgotten, because this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m hard as a fucking rock, my dick just about ready to snap in half, and I can tell Kieran feels the same way.

  “Our agreement didn’t factor this in,” I say, my voice coming out rough with desire.

  “No,” he says, his voice sounding far away.

  Outside, she gasps, turning her head to one side. Bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut. I can’t see what exactly she’s doing, but I know what a woman pleasuring herself looks like — I’ve seen it plenty of times — and I know exactly what she’s doing.

  “Jesus,” I whisper.

  “Fuck,” Kieran agrees.

  I wish I was out there, in the tub with her. I wish it was me she was making those noises about, my cock stuffed deep inside her making her sigh and her eyes roll.

  I wish I were fucking her up against the side, watching her perfect tits bounce and jiggle, still slick with water as I drove myself into her again and again, her head back.

  I glance over at Kieran, and I can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing. He wants her just as much as I do, but of course, she’s an innocent, pure, perfect virgin and she’d never go for both of us at once.

  Except... she’s out there, right now, naked and pleasuring herself. She knows we’re right here. She’s got her own bedroom, her own bathroom, plenty of places to go do this and she chose being in full view of the two of us.

  Bianca throws her head back again, her perfect red lips parted in ecstasy. One nipple comes partly out of the water and I watch her pinch the rosy bud with her fingers, rubbing the wet surface as she sighs.

  I could grab her hair, pull her head over the edge and slide my cock between her lips, feel the vibrations as she moans...

  Kieran clears his throat, and I realize he’s looking at me, the raw hunger, need, and want plain on his face.

  “That agreement,” he says.

  I swallow, my mouth dry. On the veranda, Bianca bites her lip like she’s trying to stifle a moan.

  “Yeah?”

  “Only accounted for one of us.”

  I flick my eyes to Kieran, then we both glance back at Bianca, gasping in the hot tub, her face pink, right at the edge of orgasm.

  “So what if she does want both of us at once, you’re saying?”

  “Right.”

  “Kieran,” I say, still watching her. “You’re on.”

  As the words come out of my mouth, Bianca comes. Her head goes back, eyes closed, mouth open. She arches her back so hard that both nipples come out of the water, pebbled pink buds against her white skin.

  There’s a moment where I think I might come in my pants, something I haven’t done since I was thirteen. But it’s so fucking sexy, so perfectly raw, that I nearly can’t help myself.

  Gradually, Bianca relaxes in the tub. I squeeze the knife in my hand, remembering that it’s there, and turn back to the cutting board, only glancing her way every ten seconds or so. Five minutes pass that way, then ten. We both continue making dinner without speaking, both looking at the glass back door every so often.

  It’s torture. Total fucking torture to have to watch her come without being able to do anything, to not know whether I’ll ever get to touch her.

  But then she finally opens her eyes again. Her skin has all gone a light shade of pink, like she’s finally getting too warm in the hot tub, and she looks up at the sky and sighs.

  Glances at the glass door, where Kieran and I are both frozen inside.

  Bites her lip. Seems to decide something.

  And gets out of the hot tub, her body dripping and shining with moisture. She climbs over the edge gracefully, crosses the two steps to where her towel is, grabs it.

  Then sits on the side of the hot tub and dries herself off, starting with her feet. Both of us are fucking spellbound by her beauty, and I want to lick every droplet of water off of her pale skin, flushed pink, taste every inch of her.

  Finally, she wraps the towel around herself, tucking the corner in above her breasts. She spends a moment standing there, on the veranda, looking around the cabin at the darkening woods as she pulls a tie out of her hair and shakes out the shining black waves.

  Bianca turns the jets off in the hot tub and closes the cover, always conscientious. On the other side of the door, I think I might be dying every moment until she comes back inside.

  Bianca pads to the other side of the veranda, looking at something. She comes back, puts her hand on the doorknob, pauses.

  My cock feels like it might just explode with anticipation.

  Then, at least, she opens the door. Kieran and I aren’t even pretending that we’re still making dinner, we’re just standing there, leaning against the counter, drinking in every glorious inch of her. She closes the door softly, then turns to look at us.

  “You have a nice time in the hot tub?” I ask, unable to keep a possessive growl out of my voice.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kieran

  Bianca clears her throat, her cheeks flushing even pinker than they already were.

  “It’s very relaxing,” she says, suddenly nervous.

  “I believe it,” Beckett says, a smirk around his lips. “I’m always more relaxed after I come, too.”

  Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, her hand tight around the closure of the towel, and she glances at me desperately.

  “What?” she whispers.

  “I said, I’m always more relaxed after I get myself off,” Beckett says, a cocky confidence in his voice. “Though the thing I don’t understand is... why didn’t you ask for help?”

  Her eyes flick from him, to me, to him again.

  “We are here at your beck and call, Princess,” I say, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Anything you might need, we’re happy to do for you.”

  Bianca shoves a hand through her thick, dark hair, taking another deep breath like she’s trying to gather her nerve to say something, but keeps faltering.

  “Or, if you’re having trouble asking,” Beckett says, sauntering toward her. “We could try offering and you could just say yes.”

  He takes one hand, pulls her into the kitchen, and she trips lightly after him. Somehow, her towel stays on, even as he twirls her once, like they’re dancing and stops her as she’s facing me, his hands on her shoulders.

  Over her head, his eyes are smoldering, flicking up to mine once, then back down to hers, and I understand the meaning exactly.

  He’s saying this is our chance.

  This is the only way we can have her.

  “For example,” I s
ay, stepping forward. “I could help you out of this damp towel.”

  I place one finger in the hollow of her throat, lower it slowly. Just touching her like this sets a shower of sparks off across my skin, every nerve coming alive.

  Bianca doesn’t answer, but her breathing quickens. Her eyelashes flutter, and Beckett’s hands slide down her arms.

  “You have to say yes,” I murmur, getting even closer. “I know you know what you’re getting into, Princess.”

  She gasps, softly, my lips inches from hers. Beckett puts one hand in her hair, sliding his fingers through it, and she tilts her head back slightly.

  “One little word,” he murmurs, bending closer to her ear, his lips brushing it.

  She gasps again.

  “Three little letters,” he whispers.

  Bianca swallows.

  Her eyes drift shut.

  “Yes,” she finally whispers.

  I crush my mouth against hers, unable to stop myself. She tastes like cherry lip balm and vanilla and a little like the chlorine of the hot tub as I press harder against her, pushing her lips open with my own, swiping my tongue along her bottom lip.

  Bianca moans into my mouth, so quietly I can barely hear it, but the vibrations are unmistakable. I take it as an invitation to slide my tongue past her teeth and find hers, wrestling her, pushing her back against Beckett’s thick, hard body.

  When I let her go, Bianca’s panting for breath, her chest heaving below the towel. Beckett’s got a hand in her hair, and he pulls her head to the side, leaning over, claiming her mouth as well.

  I flick my finger under the towel, untucking the corner, and it falls around her feet. Bianca gasps and Beckett growls, her white neck long with her head tilted upward, so I bite it.

  She makes a noise, and at the same time I run my hands up her body, starting at her hips, skimming her warm, slightly damp skin until I’m at her full breasts, her pink nipples between my fingers.

  She moans. I bite her neck again, harder this time, squeeze her nipples as I caress them, anything to hear that noise. I keep biting, sucking, her skin tasting slightly of chlorine but warm and luscious, just what I’d imagined.