BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS: A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE

by Samantha Twinn

  The truth is, I don’t know what the fuck to do. This isn’t how it works. I don’t swap childhood stories with the women from the chatroom. I certainly don’t let them know what I look like. It’s anonymous for a reason; a kink for the women, and purely practical for me. I can hear Flint’s voice in my head telling me that I need to get a grip. That I don’t have to live my life the way I’m choosing to. But it doesn’t feel like a choice. It feels like the only way.

  “How do you know about that?” I need to know for sure so I can figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.

  She blinks but doesn’t answer.

  “Do you know what you're asking for?”

  She nods once and I catch the way she presses her legs together at the thought. Fuck. I’m only human, but I feel like a traitor for getting turned on by this stranger when I’m waiting for Raven.

  I look to the door of the club again, taking a deep breath, hoping I’m going to see my dark angel making her way through the crowd, but there’s no one there. I glance around, thinking that maybe she’s watching me talking to this pixie-girl, but how would she know it was me, anyway?

  My heart is heavy with disappointment. I’d vowed that Raven and I would never meet in person, but when she’d asked, I’d wanted to so badly there was no turning her down. I should have trusted my instincts. I should have realized that by agreeing, I was risking all these feelings of hurt and loneliness that I can’t fucking bear.

  The girl sitting opposite me rests her hand on my knee and squeezes gently. There is such tenderness in her touch that I feel as though she has reached into my chest and wrapped her delicate fingers around my heart.

  “All you have to do is say the words,” she whispers. Her eyes are bright with hope, but soft too.

  It’s as though she knows my fears and wants to help me forget them. If I say the words, then I suppose I will, for just a while.

  “This isn’t how it works,” I say, running my fingers through my hair, wondering what she must think of me. Does she care what I look like? None of the other women have wanted to see my face. Does she like what she sees? For a moment, I remember the me from before the news; indestructible, confident and brash. The man who could get almost any woman he wanted. Who would she like better? The old me or the man I am today. I don’t even know why I care.

  “Aren’t you in charge? she asks softly. “Don’t you get to decide how it works?”

  “It feels like you're the one running things tonight, though.”

  Her lips twitch at the corners with the beginnings of a reluctant smile, and she leans back on her stool, considering me, her cute little nose raised in the air.

  “Say the words,” she says softly. “I need it so bad.” There’s so much yearning in her voice and a crisp edge of desperation that makes me want to give her everything she wants and more. This isn’t how it’s done, but suddenly I don’t give a fuck. Who gives a shit about the rules? Not me. Not anymore. Everything’s changing.

  “Go to the balcony and wait for me. We’ll do this right if we're going to do it at all.”

  I expect her to do as I’ve asked immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead, she slips off her stool and stands between my legs. I can smell the soft floral scent she must have sprayed before she left home. This girl, whose name I don’t know, cups my cheek gently and strokes her thumb across my lips. I haven’t felt a touch like it in so long that I close my eyes as my throat tightens with emotion.

  “Enough,” I growl. “Do as you’re told or you won’t get what you want.”

  “Okay,” she whispers and walks away.

  I inhale deeply, trying to slow the pace of my beating heart. Getting a rush from what I’m about to do is the whole reason I do it. The surge of adrenaline, of power, makes me feel alive. Tonight, though, it feels different. I have an urge to walk away. I could slip out of the front door and make my way home and there would be no consequences outside of leaving that girl hot and bothered on the balcony. It’s not like I owe her anything, except I told her I would follow through, and I don’t like not making good on my word.

  I gaze around the bar area again, hunting for someone that might be Raven, but there’s no one by themselves. She’s well over an hour late and I know in my heart she isn’t going to show. Raven is braver and stronger than she would ever give herself credit for, but I’m not really surprised that she has decided to stay away.

  I take another deep breath and finish my drink, then set off towards the balcony. It’s quiet out there as usual, with a few patrons sitting around at small tables and a few others gazing out over the city. The heavy beat of the music is a low throb that seems timed with my heartbeat. I spot little Tink with her arms resting on the edge of the balcony in exactly the right place. The way she’s standing, bent over slightly, makes her curves even more pronounced. In another lifetime I’d have wanted to take her home and make the most of all her body has to offer. I might have even taken her out on a date, if it was good between us. Tonight, all I have to offer is a finger and promise of a short burst of ecstasy.

  Every step I take feels huge, and I don’t really understand why. She’s just another woman who’s looking for some relief. But it takes more for me to get up close behind her than it ever has before. When I’m there, I stand and wait. When I speak, my voice seems to crack with emotion.

  “Every night when I go to sleep, I die,” I say.

  “And the next morning when I awake, I am reborn.”

  She nods just once, and I step forward, pressing my hips against the softness of her ass. The column of her neck is as graceful as a swan's and her short blonde hair tickles my lips as I curl myself around her. When I put my right hand on the outside of her thigh, she tenses and I stop. If nothing else, I need to know that she’s okay with what we’re about to do.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers, shifting against my cock. It’s hard as an iron bar and throbbing for relief I won’t allow it. Her short dress is made from a tight, stretchy fabric which moves easily as I run my hand upwards. The inside of her thigh is soft and warm and I get the familiar rush, knowing I’m so close to feeling her most private of places. I wonder how many others have been before me, but I don’t really give a fuck. Tonight she’s given me access. Tonight she trusts only me. Tonight I’ll give her what she wants.

  Maybe I’ll make her fantasy come true.

  Her leg trembles as my hand rises, her breathing quickening as her ribcage moves against my chest. A rush of protectiveness surges inside me and I stop again. I don’t understand what the fuck is wrong with me. This girl is a stranger who’s prepared to use me for pleasure, so why do I feel like I want to hold her tight and tell her everything’s going to be okay?

  She rests her hand over mine, as though she can sense the war that my mind is engaging in and wants to help me. With slender fingers between mine, she presses my hand upward. I’m expecting to feel the fabric of her panties but my first contact is with bare skin.

  She lets go of my hand as I slide my finger through the slickness between her legs, parting her soft lips and finding her clit. The sigh she releases when I press lightly hits me straight in the cock. My hips have a mind of their own, nudging against her ass, desperate for contact. I circle my finger slowly, feeling her little button swell under my touch. She’s panting and rolling her hips, chasing her pleasure with a ferociousness I didn’t expect. Just as her legs push together, crushing my hand, I stop, knowing she was on the edge of coming. My mind rushes, not really comprehending my actions. I’m not in the habit of denying pleasure. If a woman can come in seconds because I’m touching her, then that is all good with me, but for some reason, this felt too fast.

  I tap her clit and her knees go weak, hands clutching at the railings to support her weight.

  I’m usually silent when I do this but tonight I want to talk.

  “You like that?”

  “Fuck, yeah,” she gasps as I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger and squeeze.

  “
You want me to make you come?”

  “Yeah. Do it.”

  I slide my fingers downwards, finding her entrance slick and ready. My cock kicks, knowing how good it would feel to slide inside all that hot, wet heat. I can’t resist pushing a finger up inside her, and the way her muscles contract makes me pant. I want to stuff her full of my fingers, stretch her little pussy open so she’d be wide enough to take my big cock. Two fingers in and she’s up on the toes of her boots, legs straight as arrows. I push in a third and she grunts, dropping down to drive me in deeper. It’s only when I get a fourth in that she comes, pussy clenching so hard around my fingers that I feel it between my legs. My palm is wet with her juices, and my wrist. I think I made her squirt; not the first time it’s happened, but the first time I have the urge to lick myself clean. Her whole body trembles against mine.

  Then she does something I am not expecting at all. She turns and kisses me on the lips, and just like that, everything changes.