by Evelyn Hill
Rose Beast Dirty Kiss
A Big Bad Wolf Fairy Tale, Book Three
Evelyn Hill
Copyright © 2018 by Evelyn Hill
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Also by Evelyn Hill
I can’t taste my lips. Could you do it for me?
Unknown
1
Once upon a time, a king broke a young gypsy’s heart. She cursed him and he became half man-half wolf, dooming him to live alone in an underground dungeon beneath the forests’ oldest tree.
The village folk never saw the king again.
Lonely and depressed, the beast cared for the wild roses that bloomed near his dungeon—pruning, watering, plucking off the old blossoms with intricate care. Soon, a deep sleep took over him, and he fell into a deep hibernation within his dungeon for half a century. When the Rose Beast awoke, anger ruled his heart, not just at the young woman who had cursed him, but at all women.
On full moon nights, he would shapeshift into a wolf and hunt young maidens who would wander into the forest and dare to touch his roses. The Rose Beast would use his beautiful voice to lure the maiden into his dungeon, where there awaited a flask of blackberry wine, a warm fire, ribbons made of silk, and soft, downy feathers from the whitest swans…
I have this awful habit of thinking about sex at the wrong times. Is there a medical condition for that? If there was, it’d probably be named after me. The IRIS SYNDROME.
What am I talking about? Let me tell you.
There’s a plethora of women’s magazines out there whose headlines reflect four to eleven ways for a woman to orgasm. Connie has me read them so we can inform our 1001 Erotic Nights customers if they happened to ask.
Now, there have been many questions asked of me when it comes to erotic book series and authors, but I’ve never been asked how many ways a woman can orgasm by our female (or male) customers. Very quickly, let’s run down a general (but no way complete!) list:
1.Clit stroke
2.Vaginal
3.Combination of clit and vaginal
4.G-spot
5.Deep Spot
6.Breasts
7.Oral
8.Skin
9.Mental
I’m telling you all this because, at this very second, I find myself in a precarious IRIS SYNDROME situation. I’ve just faced one of the biggest fears of my life (heights) and fucked a hot handyman (Brom) after he saved me from a ladder (he would argue that I saved him.)
Afterwards, Brom takes me out for an ice cream cone, and who do I bump into?
Antonio, the man I was searching for BEFORE I bumped into Brom the hot handyman worker guy. Turns out Antonio is the owner of Enchanted Evenings ~ Bakery, Chocolates, and Ice cream. And here I am in my red polka dot tube top sundress standing between both men.
Antonio has just offered me a free “treat.” That was before he realized I was with Brom, who has just turned around and placed a protective hand on me, even though we had just met like two hours ago.
And what do I do? My mind runs down the list of nine ways to have an orgasm, pausing on the Oral option. Is it possible to orgasm from a simple kiss? I tell myself I’m a bad a girl, a very bad, bad girl.
Naturally, the thought of the Rose Beast enters my mind. Does the beast like good or bad girls? As the story goes, he prefers maidens, which would lend credence to the good girl type. But, it was also rumored his dungeon was below the oldest tree in the forest, but I now believed it was below the tower. So, there was a chance the Rose Beast would like a bad girl too.
I bet he knew more than nine ways to make a woman orgasm.
Oh yes, I am a bad girl.
Antonio’s eyes twinkle at me as my lips move, and I realize I must have said it out loud. I stare at him petrified as Brom says, “What seems to be the problem here?”
He obviously hadn’t heard me above the sound of the cashier drawer clicking in and out, and the coffee maker going, and the giggles of happy little toddlers bouncing around us. Antonio is accustomed to these noises.
At Brom’s response, Antonio says, “This treat is on me, for the both of you.”
Brom frowns.
I am speechless. I don’t know what to say to either man. All I can think of, specifically, are the Nine Ways to Have an Orgasm. Ha! I should write a book. Both men look at me. I panic and say, “I’m a licker.”
Antonio tries not to smile.
Brom says, “Huh? I thought you wanted an ice cream cone, Angel.”
I glance at him. He’s hot. Ripped, tan arms. Sexy five o’clock shadow. A full mouth he knows how to use. And a hammer. Oh god, that’s one to add to the orgasm list. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go back to earlier when we were on the tower, against the chimney…
Just the thought of it makes me wet all over again.
Despite all this, Antonio evokes a different emotion. A…deeper emotion. Maybe it’s that dark, lost look in his eyes. The way he used to flirt with me at the bookshop or the memory of his body thrusting against mine in the sand at the beach party or the way he carried me all the way home.
I don’t know.
But I do know that I’m hot right here and now with a very particular list of nine ways on how to orgasm repeating themselves over and over in my mind. And Antonio knows it. He’s waiting for me to reply.
Ice cream, yes, I am going to have ice cream. In fact, I’ll take a double scoop of whatever Antonio can serve up. (There I go again—bad girl!) I gulp and say, “Strawberry.”
“Of course.” Antonio’s eyes glance me up and down and it is like he knows what I am thinking, of course, I’d just blurted it out. Ugh.
Antonio turns to Brom, who is glancing him over suspiciously. “You, sir?”
Brom crosses his arms in tough guy style and steps up beside me. “Perhaps, you have a suggestion on what you’d think I’d like?” I didn’t like the look on Brom’s face. It said dogfight.
“Of course.” Antonio snaps his finger at a teenage boy sweeping the floors.
The kid immediately looks up. “Yes, sir?”
“Tell this gentlemen about our blackberry chocolate dipped cones.”
“Absolutely!” the kid says a little too enthusiastically. He begins blabbing and Brom is temporarily intrigued. The kid touches his shoulder and leads him over to the ice cream counter talking about the grass-fed milk cows from Utah as if they were undiscovered unicorns.
Antonio grabs my hand when Brom’s back turns and he whisks me down the hall towards the restrooms where we are out of sight.
2
The hall is dark and empty. He kisses me hard. Quick.
I say nothing. But my heart picks up, my skin prickles and I feel my breasts harden and ache against the soft cloth of my polka dot sundress. I stare at his full mouth and think Oral Orgasm.
He places his finger on my chin and tips my face up to his. He looks about to say something, but he doesn’t. His eyes are serious, seductive.
I wonder if he can howl.
I think of something to say, but I can’t. I stare at his mouth again and before I know it, he says, “Damn it, woman!”
Antonio grabs my hand and whips me into a cleaning supply closet beside the women’s restroom. It’s completely dark, and he doesn’t bother to flip on the light.
He grabs me by the waist
and his lips dive down to mine. His tongue flicks long and hard into my mouth, urgent. I kiss him back with all the urgency he gives me. But the words are stuck in my mind: Oral Orgasm.
And God, did I taste strawberries? I nibble on his lower lip, rubbing against the goatee that wasn’t there when we first met.
The sensation is both rough and pleasurable. And yes, I definitely taste strawberries.
His hands drop to my breasts, pulls my top down and I gasp as he thumbs my nipples. His lips drip honey down my jawline, neck and before he dips down to my breasts, I grab his hair and give a simple command. “Stop.”
Surprised, he pauses. I can feel the desperation trembling in his hands, cupping my breast. The warmth of his breath against my collarbone.
A new emotion surges into my veins. Power. I had the power to make him stop and go. But that isn’t what I want to explore right now. What I want is…
“I want an oral orgasm.” I say this as if I’m telling him what flavor of ice cream I wanted.
“Oh, honey,” I can’t see him in the dark, but the tone of his voice, though still deep, has lost the seriousness, and a playful note kicks in. “You know I can do that.”
His goatee grazes my right exposed breast (God!) and he starts pulling the dress down over my hips, nibbling on my hip…trailing to that heartbeat between my thighs.
It is tempting, I almost didn’t stop him, but then I do. I grab his cheeks with my hands and he pauses. I say, “Not that kind.”
He laughs.
“Shhhh!” I say. “We don’t have much time. Stand up.”
3
He rubs his face against my belly, breathing in my skin, then stands and wraps and his arms around me, pulling my half nude body against him. “I promised you a treat. You told me what you want. Now tell me how and where you want it.”
I smile and point at my lips. “I want it here.”
His head lowers and he brushes his lips against mine. He says, “You want me to kiss you?”
“I want to know if a girl can—”
“Orgasm from a simple kiss?” He doesn’t laugh, but I can hear it in his unusually playful voice.
“I was hoping I hadn’t said that out loud.”
“You did. And I’ll do my best to deliver.” His hand strokes my cheek.
I am really glad he can’t see how red my cheeks are at this one moment.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice a sultry melting pot of chocolate.
I wrap my hands around his neck and feel his hands drop to my waist. My top is still down, and my breasts ache to feel his skin.
His face nears mine again and I lift my lips to meet his. But he hovers just out of reach. All I can feel is his hot chocolate strawberry dipped breath on my mouth.
I shiver with the warmth and smell of him. Anticipating the moment our lips will touch, I feel him closer now. I feel electricity between our lips, his just a feather way.
And then I feel it.
Him.
His mouth brushes against mine, his lips moist and warm. And I let him taste me, breathe me, lick me. He laps slowly, as if tasting my soul.
Shivers run down my naked arms, breasts, stomach, straight to the beating throb between my legs and then down my thighs.
I slowly open my mouth, inviting him inside. His tongue peeks around the outer edges, plunging in, out.
And all I taste is strawberries. I smell chocolate and roses. I feel I am bathing in Bathsheba’s pool and the King is caressing me with his lust, but gently, oh so gently.
My nipples are hard against the fabric of his ironed white shirt. And I feel a slight quivering in my thighs.
His tongue merges in and out of my mouth like sea waves, and he probes lower and lower into my throat, asking me to dance, to cum.
My body responds. My tongue dances against his, and when he retreats back this time, I follow.
Then I am the one leading. I trace the soft edges of his full mouth. Every little crevice is filled with the scent and taste of him, like an untapped heaven. I line his lips with licks and nibbles, over and over as if excavating a delicate treasure, and when I dip inside his mouth, his breath and a single moan escape at the same time.
I realize I’m breathing heavy. He is too.
His teeth are smooth as pearls, sharper than I’d expect. The soft pink lining of his mouth…tender. I can go on like this, but I feel his erection against my belly and I’m feeling my own need pulse in my veins.
I kiss him harder, turning from licker to biter. I become aware of his hands on my hips. He’s lifting me, pressing me against the wall of the cleaning room. I don’t object. I wrap my legs around him, pulling his clothed hardness against me.
Then he pulls his face away, our chest rises and falls together. I whisper, “Please…” like a little girl begging for strawberry ice cream.
And then his mouth is on mine, our tongues are fire consuming fire. His erection thrusts against me. And suddenly he grabs my hands, they slide together easily and he raises my arms against the closet wall.
Our tongues rise and fall against each other, tantalizing, dipping into each other’s mouths together and apart, our bodies are one, breathing together, moving together…and then he does it.
He sucks on the very tip of my tongue and doesn’t let go, and my whole body shudders and rises on the wave of pleasure. The wave builds higher and higher.
Then he bites down, right on my tongue’s tip, tenderly, softly.
I groan into his mouth as the wave orgasm explodes and my entire body goes limp, shivering and trembling with pleasure.
He catches me, holds me against him. He is breathing hard into my ear and says with the same playfulness as earlier, “I don’t need to carry you home again, do I?”
4
I giggle and hug him with my entire body. “I’ve been looking for you.”
He says, “Yeah, was your boyfriend helping you?”
I push him back a little, and he sets me back down on my feet. I wiggle my dress up. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sure acts like it.”
Another feeling replaces the delicious sensations that I had just been filled with. Guilt.
But I am not cheating. I am a free, single woman. I can do whatever I want. I tell him this, I say, “I am a free, single…”
But then his finger is against my lips. “Shhh…”
And I hear a deep voice outside the door. A knock. “Iris, angel? Are you okay?”
At first I think he’s knocking on the cleaning door closet.
Antonio and I both freeze. He whispers, “It’s the bathroom door. Tell him you’ll be right out.”
I say, “Right out!”
And then we both listen to his heavy footsteps walk away. Antonio and I are pressed together again, hearts beating. I feel his erection against me.
I grab it, squeeze. “Do you want me to—”
And then he kisses me again. “We don’t have time.”
But we keep kissing harder and harder, and I unbutton and unzip him. He suddenly spins me around and says, “There’s a counter in front of you.” I reach out and grab it.
He lifts my polka dot dress, yanks down my panties. I bend over, spreading my legs wide.
Antonio softly strokes my ass. His thumbs slide down the great divide. And I don’t know for sure, but I think I hear the word peach escape his lips.
His hands drop to my thighs. I feel his warm fingers. One caresses the soft hair of my vulva, while another strokes where I am wet. So wet. Then I feel a slight pressure against my clit.
He’s rubbing me.
My body responds instantly, the wave is already building. I spread my legs wider and rub my ass against his erection.
I want to scream Take Me, Dammit! but before I do, it is as if he’s read my mind.
His hands move up over my buttocks and he grips my hips. I lean into the counter and moan as I feel the tip of his cock, thick and round like a lollipop, crown me. He thrusts gently inside me at first, h
is hips gently arching against my ass, his breath escaping in and out, in and out, and then he thrusts fully into me.
And I feel it. He’s hitting my g-spot over and over. I buck against him. “Oh god, don’t stop.” His thrusts become faster, faster…he grinds against me with the urgency of a consuming fire. I feel his balls slap against my bare skin over and over, and I grip the thick lollipop head of him, squeezing, gripping, feeling his hardness slip in and out lubricated with my own body’s milk.
Our breathing is out control, but our body rhythms are perfectly in sync. I see colors in the dark, tiny red stars, my body is on the brink of another firework explosion when it happens. His fire fills the entirety of me, and the whole world is one exploding firework. In my mind, I see green eyes and hear a wolf howl.
I scream and his palm cups over my lips, and he gently bites my ear as ejaculates into me.
Our breathing slows. I let go of the counter. He pulls me against him and we sink to the floor together, breathing, trembling with energy we both shared and taken.
I hear Brom’s voice in the hall. “Iris, honey, are you sure you’re okay?”
Antonio helps me to my feet, helps me pull up my dress again. “The closet opens directly into the bathroom. Hurry.”
I hear the tinkle of keys, and a crack of light slips into the closet. I peek outside and see the restroom is empty.
I look back at Antonio, want to tell him how much I’ve missed him, what I want to share with him, but he opens the door further and gently pushes me through. Before I can say anything, he closes the door.
Brom beats on the door. “You’re starting to worry me, angel.”
I smooth my hair, adjust my skirt and I see my purse slide out of the closet door before it quickly closes again. I smile and pick it up. Brom pounds on the door again.