Tied with a Bow Anthology, Vol. 2

by Morris, Raven

  “Take all of me, Melody.” Dan grabbed her head and held it against his abdomen, forcing his cock into her throat. She had to relax those muscles and concentrate on what she was doing.

  That was when Blake made his move. Before she realized it, he’d seated himself in her body and ohh God, the feeling of being filled in both passages down there was intense.

  She couldn’t think, all she could do was feel. Thick and hot and searing, the sensation bordered the pleasurable side of pain and it rocked through her, matched by the throbbing of Dan’s dick in her mouth and Melody could only let herself be at the mercy of these men. Thank God they’d done this before because they knew how to play her body for maximum effect and oh, man, was it maximum.

  “Take it, babe,” Rich rasped as he ran his tongue over her breasts, flexing his hips so that when he pulled away, Blake surged in.

  Her pussy flooded with her juices and the only thing that would make this better was if she could watch, but all she could see now was Blake’s pubic hair and the taut skin of his abdomen. Next time she wanted to film it.

  Next time.

  “Ah, God, yes, Melody. Grab me.” Blake ran a hand down her spine, down to where he joined her body.

  He fingered her.

  Melody’s legs gave out and she would have collapsed against Rich’s chest if he hadn’t held her up.

  “Stay with us, Melody,” Rich said, fluttering his tongue along her nipple. “It’s not over yet.”

  No, but it almost was.

  She could feel her orgasm rising inside her. Felt it churning in her belly, quivering in her thighs. Trembling in her arms so that she couldn’t hold herself up. Luckily Rich took care of that.

  The tempo increased. Blake’s hands tightened and her ass slid against the slick sheen of sweat on his abs. Against Rich’s too.

  The men worked in opposition inside her, their heads rubbing against each other and filling her.

  She sucked harder on Dan, running her tongue over the rim of his dick. He hissed with every circle and his balls clenched as they banged against her chin, and she was almost there herself. Every nerve ending was on fire, every part of her pussy screaming with the need to topple, soar, fly over the edge.

  “Holy fuck, guys.”

  It was a new voice, one she didn’t recognize, coming from the end of the bed.

  “Shut up, Marty,” Rich growled.

  Marty?

  His name caused her to choke. Dan reached down and ran his fingers along her jaw. “Don’t worry about him, Melody. He’s sitting this one out.”

  Good because she didn’t want to be part of his good time when it came at his fiancée’s expense.

  The bed beside them squeaked.

  “Hey, I don’t mind watching.” Marty said.

  Melody glanced over. Sure enough, he’d whipped it out, and was stroking himself.

  It was so completely erotic given what she was doing—what she was having done to her and what she’d seen him do earlier—that she couldn’t look away. She wanted to watch him doing himself.

  “Turn you on, babe?” Rich ran a finger—just one—from her shoulder, down the center of her breast and swirled it over her ribs, the tickling sensation turning her on just as much as anywhere else he touched.

  She was being touched everywhere. Inside, outside, up, down, her back, her front, fingers scraping through her hair, teeth scraping along her sensitized flesh… This was a night for the senses and Melody gratefully embraced it.

  Blake pumped in and out of her ass faster. Rich grunted as he took her on his dick with the force of Blake’s thrusts. Dan jerked inside her, his orgasm so close she could taste it—literally, and Marty kept up a running commentary that was so hot even if they weren’t doing what he described.

  And then, suddenly, it crashed over her, rising up from the very bottoms of her feet, rushing along her legs which almost gave out from the force and the speed and the shooting star effect as it roared through her veins and thundered in her ears, making her head spin—or maybe that was just Dan’s cock—so that she became one feeling, moving being of passion.

  Then Blake came, his hands gripping her hips, drilling his cock into her as he arched back, the spurts filling her ass with his cum, and it sent Rich over the edge, too. He bowed beneath her, filling her pussy like Blake did her ass, the throbbing cocks sending shudders through her.

  “Fuck, yeah, guys,” said Marty hoarsely.

  And then Dan came, shooting his jets to the back of her throat and she swallowed around him, smiling when he groaned.

  And then it was over. Her strength gave out and Rich lowered her to his chest.

  Blake slid out and she felt him fall to the bed beside them. Dan, too, slid his dick from her mouth and laid across the head of the bed, the only sound their heavy breaths and the occasional moan.

  Rich ran his hand down her sweat-slicked back. “God, Melody, that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

  She smiled against his chest. “You don’t have to say that, Rich. I’m just glad I had the chance to experience this. You. The guys.”

  He put a hand beneath her chin and tilted it up. “No, sweetheart, you don’t get it. We may have done this before, but it was never like this. The perfect rhythm, the simultaneous orgasms… it’s never been that good. Right guys?”

  Frank gave an exhausted, “Mmm hmmm,” and Dan ran a hand through her hair to massage her neck. “Yeah. It was good.”

  Marty just sighed.

  They laid there a while. Melody cuddled against Rich and smiled when he wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close. It’d been so long since she’d had this contented feeling. This connection to another human being. To be wanted by him.

  That’s what she’d wanted with John. What she’d planned on when she’d taken her vows.

  What he hadn’t wanted.

  She thrust that thought out of her head. John was in the past and tonight was the present. The future. The what could be. Oh, not with Rich, obviously, but she could move forward now. Find someone and not loathe the idea of having to look. It’d been so easy with Rich; she’d forever be grateful to him that he’d helped her move forward in her life.

  “I’m hungry,” said Dan. “Anyone want room service?”

  The difference between men and women was right there in post-coital eating habits.

  “Told you you should have eaten earlier,” said Rich.

  Blake lifted his head and waggled his eyebrows. “I’m more than happy to start eating now.”

  Melody smiled against the sheets. She wouldn’t mind either, but she doubted her body could handle it.

  Dan stretched on the bed and picked up the phone. “I want five burgers, a couple batches of fries, some slaw, and two six-packs of the darkest beer you’ve got.” Rich punched his thigh. “Oh, and a bottle of your best champagne.”

  Melody smiled at Rich. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know. I wanted to. This is a cause for celebration.”

  She doubted he knew how true those words were.

  She laid there for a few more minutes, but finally had to address certain issues Mother Nature was making her address, so she slithered off the bed and wobbled to the bathroom. She ended up taking a hot shower, but every nerve ending was so supercharged that it made lathering up difficult. She persevered, however, because there was something incredibly sensuous about using Rich’s personal items.

  Wrapping a towel around her—the only one still folded neatly on the rack—and walked back into the room.

  Room service had arrived and they were… watching porn.

  “Seriously? I wasn’t enough for you?” She was joking, but, actually, maybe not.

  Rich jumped off the bed and hugged her. “Sweetheart, those women are nothing compared to you. That’s what we just saying. Porn’s good to look at, but it’s the actual connection with a woman that makes sex spectacular.” He leaned in, his breath tickling her cheek. “And I thought our connection was incredib
le.”

  He meant what he said. He wasn’t being flippant. And the thing was, she’d thought there’d been a connection between them, too. She liked him. Oh, not just for the great sex, but he seemed to be a nice guy. Caring.

  “You hungry?” he whispered, his lips millimeters from hers. “I ordered you a birthday cake.”

  Her heart melted a little more toward him. “You did?”

  “Well, sure. What’s a birthday without cake?’

  One big orgy?

  She smiled but didn’t voice her thought. He was being really really sweet to her when he didn’t have to be. They’d all gotten off, even Marty, and had no need to flatter her.

  Which made the cake all the more special.

  Well, what she could see of it beneath a mountain of whipped cream.

  “There’s a cake under there? You’re sure?” She scooped a finger-full of cream off the top.

  Rich grabbed her hand before she could like it off, and led her laden digit to his mouth.

  The tug of his lips had her knees quaking, and the soft little suck of cream off the tip had her creaming her pants. Well, it would have if she were wearing any.

  She was going to need another shower.

  Maybe this time she could convince Rich to join her. She wanted to test his “not quick in the shower” theory.

  He popped her finger out of his mouth, but didn’t release it. Nor did he stop looking at her. “Guys, it’s time for you to go.”

  “What? Ah, come on, man. I’m starving,” complained Dan.

  “And I’m too tired to move,” said Blake. “Tonight was intense.”

  Marty just laid back and put his hands under his head.

  Which left his dick sticking straight up in the air.

  “You, too, Mart,” said Rich.

  Marty’s mouth fell open. “You’re shitting me, right? You’re kicking me out?”

  Rich nodded. “She’s mine.”

  “But I didn’t even get a taste.”

  “She’s not a piece of candy.” He smiled at her. “Though you do taste really good.”

  Marty huffed and got to his feet, hiking up his shorts and zipping up dangerously fast. “Seriously, Rich, I could show you some moves.”

  “I don’t need you to show me anything. I think I can satisfy the woman on my own.”

  Oh could he.

  “Fine. Whatever.” Marty swiped his shirt off the bed and dragged it over his head like a petulant three-year-old. “I thought this was supposed to be my bachelor party.”

  “Nice of you to remember that fact. What would Pam say?”

  Marty crossed his arms. Okay, make that a petulant five-year-old. “Pam won’t ever know.”

  “Until you break her heart by cheating on her after you’re married.”

  “Back off, Rich. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Rich shrugged. “No, Marty, you don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t the way to start your marriage. Go home and be happy with her. Be faithful to her.”

  Right there, Melody fell just the tiniest bit in love with Rich. He was saying all the right things, though only time would tell if he meant them.

  She wanted that time.

  “Come on, guys.” Rich seemed like he wanted that too; his voice brooked no argument. “Out.”

  More grumbling ensued.

  “We could just go to my room,” Melody offered.

  “Yeah, why don’t you go there? I don’t feel like crashing on Marty’s floor,” said Dan. “Probably has his jizz all over it anyway.”

  Marty threw a pillow at him. And the cardboard pizza box that was beneath it.

  “Ow. Prick.” Dan winged a pizza crust at him.

  Rich looked at her. “Your room, huh? I think it sounds more civilized than here.”

  He gripped her hand, intertwining their fingers , and led her out the door, sticking the bottle of champagne under his arm, and grabbing the chocolate cake.

  “What about the decency police?” she asked as she snagged her purse off the dresser before the food war started in earnest.

  Rich gave her towel the once-over. “Sweetheart, you’re so indecent, you’re decent.”

  There was a compliment in there somewhere she was sure.

  “Besides, I’ll have you inside your room faster than I got you out of your clothes.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said as she fumbled with her key. “I didn’t have much clothing on.”

  “Exactly my point. A man can do many things when well motivated.” He held open the door for her, then set the champagne and cake down on the dresser. “Come here.” He gathered her in his arms and kissed her softly. “I hope you’ll always remember your twenty-ninth birthday.”

  She laughed. “Now I will for sure.”

  “Good.” He ran the tip of one finger down her nose, over her lips, down over her chin, with a long, slow glide along her throat. “You’re pulse is fluttering.”

  She swallowed. “Thanks to you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He kept up the path, his finger now delving beneath the towel.

  One flick would be all it took to make that disappear.

  Instead, he stopped, his fingers lingering over her heart. “Where do you live, Melody?”

  “Live?”

  “Yeah, you know, that place where you drop your suitcase amid all your world travels?”

  She smiled with him. “Of course I know what you mean.” She just didn’t know why he meant it. This was supposed to be a weekend out of time. A fantasy. Not something that had roots and facts and things like addresses and cell phone numbers.

  “So… where do you live?”

  Melody took a deep breath. If she told him, shared her “real” life with him, what would that mean about this weekend? What would that mean for their attraction—beyond the physical one—that she was starting to feel?

  What would it mean for her to go beyond this fantasy?

  “Melody?” He tipped her chin up. “Ah, I’m sorry. I pushed, didn’t I? Just forget I asked.”

  That’d be one thing she would never be able to do. “No, Rich, I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m from outside of Chicago.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Great. All her big momentous decision-making got her ridiculed. “No, actually, I’m not.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to make fun of you.” He ran his finger down her nose and tapped her lips. “It’s just that I’m from Chicago, too.”

  Here came reality running up to bite her in the ass. The one he’d fucked.

  She got a nice little tingle from that. “Chicago, huh?”

  “The windy city. We might need each other to keep warm.”

  Among other things…

  It turned out they lived about a half hour from each other and knew some of the same people.

  It put a whole new spin on the night’s activities.

  And future ones.

  The End

  Chapter One

  He was here again. Same terminal, same flight he’d taken every first Sunday of the last three months.

  Same amazingly hot body in cut-offs, a tank, flip-flops, sunglasses, with the streaked blond hair of a beach bum.

  But Ty Nicholson was so much more than a beach bum. He owned a successful string of surf shops that was poised to go into franchising, and he stood to make a mint. But that wasn't why Kylie couldn't take her eyes off him.

  Ever since she'd taken the new job in LA she’d been thinking about him. She'd come across an article about him while researching business trends for the magazine she worked for and had read about how he'd turned his passion into oodles of cash, with the lifestyle to show for it. Malibu beach house, Porsche, a line of surf wear carrying his name, everything he touched seemed to turn as golden as his hair.

  He'd touched her once.

  Kylie ducked behind the pole she’d been leaning against when he looked around. Probably feeling the stares of every woman i
n the place as he sauntered through the concourse, he was that stunningly attractive. And had the charisma to go with it. The funny and fun personality. Brains. Brawn. That face. And the bod. And the ass. There was nothing not to like about Ty.

  She'd liked him so much in college.

  She’d watched him that entire last semester when their paths had crossed on the way to the student union building every Tuesday and Thursday after lunch. She’d made sure she’d been behind him every time.

  Ever since, she’d it bad for Ty. Her friends had known, but she hadn’t told anyone about that night. That’d been just for her.

  Her body heated at the memory from eight years ago. Eight years ago today. Her birthday, and two days before graduation. She’d finally worked up the courage to make her move. She'd had to; Ty had never had to make a move. Women had thrown themselves at him all the time. It'd been the only way she’d had a shot.

  And what a shot it'd been. Even back then the guy knew his way around a woman's body. She could only imagine how much more he'd learned in the interim.

  And ever since she’d seen that article, she'd done nothing but imagine it. She’d worked her way into getting this interview with him because of it. Well, not strictly because of that night; interviewing Ty would be good for her career.

  Doing Ty would be good for her libido.

  Kylie shook her head. Ever since that article, she’d been having the most inappropriate thoughts. But, hey, as long as she was the only one to know about them, no big deal.

  Ty had been very big—

  Good lord, what was wrong with her? It’d only been six months since her breakup with Bill. Not that long to go without sex.

  Though it’d been far longer since she’d had good sex. Bill had stopped caring about making it good for her a lot longer than six months ago. It was her own fault she’d stayed with him after figuring that out. The vibrators had helped. Until they hadn’t.

  So she’d finally moved on, and when she’d found out that Ty was flying into LA on a monthly basis for a series of guest lectures, she’d gone after the chance to interview him. Her boss had wanted to give it to someone who’d been there longer, someone with a name, but her claim to having known Ty personally had gone a long way toward winning the assignment—though she doubted Ty even remembered her.