Boxers & Briefs: An MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

  "Please don’t cry," he whispers and I try to grit my teeth to stop the onslaught of tears begging to fall from the corner of my eye.

  "You’ve known how I feel about you," he whispers on my lips.

  "Yes. It’s just different to hear it, that’s all," I poorly try to explain my reaction.

  "Different?" He questions, tilting his head like he’s studying me.

  "Better," I correct myself, his lips curling into a smirk.

  "Come on, let me get you out of here," he lifts me, his manhood sliding out of me, it’s absence leaving me empty and in need. We both stand together, helping each other as we carefully make it through the bathroom, holding onto counters to avoid falling on the slippery floor.

  House keeping will have a fun time cleaning that place up. It’s such a change to not worry about messes like I used to. Thomas always tells me it's someone else’s problem, but that is all new to me. Everything in me says I need to go get a mop, but instead I walk into the walk in closet, draped in Thomas’ arms as he nibbles at my shoulders.

  Opening my drawers, which Thomas cleared for me the day I moved in, excited to make this a home for the two of us. And as different as it is, this place does feel like home, although I bet any place with Thomas would have that effect on me.

  Slipping on a silk nightgown, I pull my hair into a top bun, and walk into Thomas closet, which connects to mine, but he’s gone. Making my way into the bedroom, I see him on the phone; he looks up and smiles at my appearance before covering the phone to turn to me.

  "Are you hungry?" he asks and I scrunch my nose contemplating his question before deciding I am.

  Although we’d left the dinner only a few hours ago, it was very fancy and half of the courses were so small I barely got full. My stomach growls as if trying to tell me how to answer, and Thomas smiles before returning to the call.

  "Yes, let’s have two lobster and steak meals… Garlic mashed potatoes are fine… And asparagus… Yes… No… Of course. Also, bring strawberries and champagne. Good. Thank you," he finishes and hangs up the phone before turning to me.

  "Lobster and steak?" I ask in bewilderment. That’s such a huge meal, and much to ask someone to make in the middle of the night.

  "Do you want something else?" he panics, reaching for the phone as I make my way toward him.

  "No, silly," I begin, placing my hand over his to stop him from dialing anyone. "That’s a lot to ask in the middle of the night, don’t you think?"

  "Nicole, you have to stop worrying about that," he chuckles softly, lifting his hand to move a few stray hairs from my face before continuing, "you’re gonna have to get used to this, you know?"

  His questions like this always leave me feeling a mix of emotions. It’s like he’s insinuating our future here together, but it’s just too much of a fairy tale for me to even consider. My mind is constantly warning me not to go too far off the deep end with possibilities of a life of luxury with the man that I love, but it’s hard not to dream when my reality is so unbelievable.

  "This is a dream life. You’re my dream man," I whisper, looking up into his eyes.

  "I’ve never felt that way about any of this until I had you to share it with," he pulls me close to him, and the wind catches in my throat, preventing me from responding to his continuing romance.

  Dinner arrives a little while later, and we eat at the small dining area in the living room. It’s remarkable how a child could have his own quarters, as this is the room he was raised in. To him it’s quite ordinary, the ornate décor and custom artwork scattered across his walls, but to me it's nothing short of remarkable.

  "Why did you ever leave?" I ask as we finish our meal.

  "Leave home?" he asks.

  "Yeah. Your country is so beautiful, the people so nice. Everything is laid out for you, I don’t understand why you’d ever want to go anywhere else," I reason.

  His lips twist as his brows move to together, and I’m sure he’s thinking deeply. He first looks up to the ceiling, and then looks back at me. A shadow of a smile crosses his face as his eyes sparkle, and I feel myself melting just from his glare.

  "I always felt like there was something out there for me. Something I couldn’t get from inside this palace, or Elanda altogether. I wanted to go find out what it was, but in school and just living in New York I never seemed to encounter whatever it was. I feel like I was searching for a while and then I quit in frustration. I just began to resent the mystery, and so I was reckless, living wild," he begins, referring to his playboy past.

  "And then what? What changed?" I take a sip of my drink, looking up to him with curious eyes.

  "You," he says flatly and my heart flutters.

  "Oh, Thomas," I cover my mouth, bashfulness sweeping over me.

  "I’m serious, Nicole," he extends his arm across the table and I place my petite hand into his strong grasp.

  "I was living with no purpose, no passion, just existing. Sometimes I felt like a prisoner to my title, it was daunting. Now, I’m grateful to have it because I can shower you with everything you deserve. You were what was waiting for me. I traveled across the world to find you."

  Words won’t do my feelings any justice, so I quickly jump from my seat, racing into his lap as our lips crash against each other. There’s so much urgency and passion between us, and it all pours out into our embrace, my fingers rushing to his hair as he yanks at my bun until my hair spills down to my shoulders.

  Standing, he lifts me with ease, our kiss never pausing as he makes his way to the bedroom, lowering me gently onto the four-poster bed. Backing away, he looks down at my body with hunger and desire pools between my legs watching him pull his shirt over his head with one hand.

  Crawling on to me naked, his ten inches of manhood press against my body while he kisses my neck, and then moves down to my breasts, tugging at the soft silk to free my body. With his tongue circling my nipple, my back arches, my arousal growing.

  Moving quickly, he lowers between my legs, inching my nightgown up to taste my sex. Gasping loudly as he runs the flat of his tongue down my slick opening, I feel my body overheat. I am so affected by him; it often leaves me in shock. The slightest touch can send me into overdrive, and when he slides his tongue inside of me, I shriek with overwhelming satisfaction. He feels incredible, and has always been able to drive me up a wall with the way he pleases me with his tongue. You’d think I was his favorite meal the way he devours me with his mouth.

  "Oh God! Thomas," my back arches further, shamelessly pushing my pelvis towards him, begging for more pressure, and as always he gives me just what I want.

  Once he’s got me aroused to his liking, he slides a finger inside of me, moving to focus on my clitoris as I wither beneath him in ecstasy. With my most sensitive spot in his mouth, he sucks gently as his finger slides in and out of my sex.

  Drenched with arousal, my juices seeping onto the bed, I beg him to give me what I want, what I really want – to feel him inside of me. It’s been less than thirty minutes since we left the bathtub, but I’m craving him like its been weeks. There’s never enough, as I am always seeking more from him.

  "Please! Thomas, let me feel you, baby!" I plead and he sucks my clit harder. The waves don’t even build, I cum instantly and the rush to climax takes me by surprise, leaving me breathless.

  Before I can comprehend just what’s happened, Thomas is climbing my body, and slamming into as my orgasm continues to rock my body. His length thrusting into me, pumping me at a fast pace, only extends the vibrations until a new set of waves take on a life of their own.

  "You’re so good. God, you feel amazing. I could fuck you all day," he growls, his body moving like a wave as he holds himself on his elbows, rocking into me.

  "I’m yours, baby!" I cry, the sensations too great to bear as I roll into another explosion rapidly.

  "That’s right. Don’t fight it, baby. Give it to me," he growls, plunging into me as I wrap my legs around his back, crossing my angles to
keep him close.

  "Oh God!" I gasp, my arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold onto him as he moves so swiftly and purposefully, hitting the spot he knows sends me over the edge every time.

  "Fuck, Nicole! You’re squeezing my cock," he groans, and I haven’t even realized I’m doing it, but my body has yet to recover from my intense release.

  "Thomas! I’m gonna… Oh, God," I moan, knowing this is an explosion that’ll leave me shattered in pieces. Whenever he makes me climax back to back, and he does quite regularly, it has such an intense effect, and I know it’s coming at me full speed.

  "Yeah, baby! Fuck yeah!" He growls, digging faster and deeper. His muscular body is raging him forward as he pumps me hard and fast, his pelvis surging forward without rhythm or finesse. He’s ready to explode himself.

  "Baby! Yes! Oh, Thomas!" I yell, only strokes away from what will surely be an all-encompassing climax.

  My legs and arms grip him tightly, bracing for the inevitable as he slams into me, hard. He’s groaning and moaning in the way he does when he can no longer control himself, lost inside of me.

  "Now! Nicole! Cum, baby!" He growls and without hesitation, my body heeds his command, colliding with my climax until I feel like I’m floating as he stills inside of me, shooting off another round of pleasure.

  "Ungh! Fuck," he mutters under his breath as I milk him with my internal muscles, his hips slowing to a stand still until he’s just lying in my arms, my ankles still interlocked on the small of his back.

  "You’re amazing," I whisper against his ear as we both pant in sexual exhaustion.

  "I love you, Nicole," he lifts his head to look into my eyes while he speaks, and my abdomen tenses as butterflies flutter deep in my belly.

  "I love you too, Thomas," I whisper, tears stinging the back of my eyes as the emotions bubble over.

  "You’re everything I thought you were and more," he leans down to kiss me and I press my lips against his with desperate need and overwhelming gratitude for the way he treats me and more importantly the way he makes me feel.

  "You’re my dream man, Thomas. Everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m so glad I waited for you," I smile as a tear falls from the corner of my eye. Thomas moves his thumb to wipe my temple and leans down to kiss me gently.

  "Can I make love to you all night?" he asks before tugging my bottom lip with his teeth.

  "Please," I breathe the answer on his lips as they curl into a smile.

  And that’s just what he does, savoring my body as I roll from one orgasm to the next until the sun rises from the balcony doors. My life has become a dream, and it’s definitely one I don’t care to wake from.

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  12 Inches: A Secret Baby Dark Romance

  12 Inches: A Secret Baby Dark Romance

  I got a footlong. And it tastes so good.

  You wanna tame Aidan Stone, you’re laboring in vain, darlin’.

  There’s no way any woman alive can get over my body. My Greek God body, with my 8-pack abs and bedroom eyes.

  Abby Cleveland thinks she can change me.

  Make me less of a playboy. More responsible. Take my hard-partying, womanizing ways and make me into a pillar of respectability.

  Well, good luck to her.

  Because it’s me that’s going to change her.

  I’m going to open up a whole new world for her. By using my body.

  I’ll let you guess what part...

  **Come join Alexis Angel in this full-length standalone romance. No cliffhanger but it's going to be a scorcher with scenes of MF, MFMM, and very mild FMF. HEA? You know it, babe.**

  Aidan

  "Welcome to the 2017 Romance Authors Guild of America Awards Ceremony," some stupid fucking idiot is announcing on the other side of the curtain. "If you’ll raise your glasses in a toast, I’d like to introduce you to your hostess for the evening."

  Yeah, I don't fucking know who the fuck is out there introducing the hostess. I don’t really fucking care at this point in the game. Why, you ask?

  "Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it," Susan moans lewdly in front of me as she juts her ass out at me and I plunge into her with my 12-inch cock. Her elegant black dress is hiked up and her thong is on the floor. My trousers are at my feet and I’m pounding her ass mercilessly. Just as the bottom of her dress is hiked up, the top of her dress is lowered, giving my hands no obstacle as I reach over and squeeze her tits, pinching her pink nipples and making her throw her head back in ecstasy.

  That’s fucking why.

  "It’s my deep honor to introduce you to USA Today Bestselling Author, Alyssa Moore," that unnamed twat on the other side of the curtain that separates me from the stage continues.

  Wait a fucking second. Alyssa Moore?

  I look over the backside of the woman that I’m fucking. She’s got long dark brown hair. Fuck, her pussy’s not tight in the least, but it’s getting the job done. Her face isn’t much to look at. I guess I can grab her ass – she does have an alright ass. But when you’ve gotten as much fucking pussy as I have, this girl doesn’t really seem that fucking special.

  But wait one moment. I need to ask her something.

  "Susan," I say as I keep thrusting in and out and even time my words with my thrusts. At least that’s what it seems like. "What’s your last name again, love?"

  That’s a pretty fucking horrible question to ask a broad as you’re fucking her, isn’t it?

  Well, it’s a damn sight better than asking her what her first name was—and yes, I’ve had to fucking do that before—so don’t judge me too fucking harshly. But why would you judge me at all? You love this shit. You wish you were right here with me, so I could fuck you with my thick, hard cock, don’t you?

  Don’t you?

  Don’t fucking lie to me.

  I’m 6’ 3" of raw animal lust in a gorgeous fucking body. I have tattoos up and down my left arm. My muscles are cut with the precision of a diamond drill. My 8-pack abs and my pecs and deltoids showcase a body that’s crowned by my lean face and mysteriously dark brown eyes. I have close-cropped brown hair. And let’s not forget the monster 12-inch cock that’s ravaging this pussy right now. One foot of pussy pleasing power added onto a body of a fucking god.

  If you don’t wish I was fucking you on the backstage of an awards dinner with the Who’s Who of the romance writing world, then I would seriously suggest that you rethink your priorities, love.

  But enough about you and I. Let’s go back to her.

  "What. Is. Your. Last. Name." I say the words with each thrust. They seem to drive her fucking crazy.

  "Mo…unnngnhh," she attempts, but my cock goes inside of her and pleasure courses through her body.

  "Try again," I gasp. I can’t fucking help it. I’m getting close to cumming.

  "Mo….Moore," she finally manages to gasp in between shudders.

  Oh fuck. It can’t be.

  "Do you have a sister named Alyssa?" I ask, my ears perking up to what the lady on the other side of the curtain is saying. Luckily, people are still applauding and she’s just saying thank you to the folks.

  "What? Yeah, I have an older…unghh…sister. Unghh…Alyssa. Why?" Susan asks. Remarkably, I haven’t stopped pounding her. But I can multi-task during my fuck – see love, you thought I was just some dumb stud with a 12-inch cock, didn’t you? I’m Aidan Stone.

  That’s right.

  You knew there was a good reason you were attracted to me from the very first word in this chapter.

  I am THE Aidan Stone. I’ve graced hundreds of romance novel covers around the world. You have, and will, and probably are, fucking touching yourself as you look at my body on the books by Eddie Cleveland or Simone Sowood.

  Basically, I parlayed my looks into something fucking real—a fucking enviable portfolio of book covers and modeling gigs. And besides, I have
goals. Professional goals that I’ve been trying to get to. What are they?

  Wait a fucking second. I’m gonna cum soon, and I want to rip off my condom and cum all over this bitch. We’ll get back to this history lesson in a few minutes, alright love?

  Besides, it turns out that I’m fucking the sister of the girl I used to fuck. How fucking crazy is that?

  That’s right. Now you want me, don’t you? Because I fucked Alyssa Moore – USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author who goes around as the Champion of fucking Humanity. I don’t even know if she writes as many books nowadays. She spends most of her time trying to save the world from blowing itself up. Goes around the world with her curvy fucking ass and big fucking tits and dick-sucking lips and talks about how we should stop using fucking land mines or some shit.

  Yeah, I fucked her for two weeks. I thought it would help me get a cover from her publisher. That I’d get an introduction so that I’d be on the cover of a Sinful Reads book. I’d get some pussy from it too, and I wasn’t complaining. I mean that horny bitch jumped my fucking bones the day she met me. Knocked on my hotel room door and without a word got on her knees and began to suck my cock. Used to love it when I sprayed my thick cum all over her body. She used to scoop it up with her fingers and make a purring noise as she would swallow my semen.

  How long ago did I meet her?

  That’s the fucking rub.

  Two fucking weeks ago. That’s right. I sent her a text today – this morning as soon as my private jet touched down in New York City. I figured she lives in New York and I have to be here for this awards show that they’re having so why not kill two birds with one stone and break up with her before the fucking dinner.

  So I dropped by her place. I needed to find her. It was obvious that Sinful Reads wasn’t going to be giving me a cover. It became even more apparent that I wasn’t gonna get a fucking cover when Alyssa decided to drop Sinful Reads as a publisher a few days ago. So yeah, when I got into New York, I was ready to talk to her at long last about what I really wanted from her—not her pussy, but her covers. What I didn’t know was that she lived with her fucking sister, and that her sister was a slut as well. I mean, a little bit of banter with the sister and all of a sudden I have a date for this Romance Author awards dinner. And not even a single glass of wine and she’s dropping her panties and hiking up her skirt and I’m fucking her from behind.