Chapter 5
Chapter Five
TALLY
I ’m quite literally screwed. Hopefully, if things keep going the way I want them to, I’m about to be fucked too. Can’t say I mind one bit that we’re all drunk as skunks, sharing that without a care in the world connection that binds strangers together.
It’s them, well not Santiago—he doesn’t do it for me—but the other two? Yeah, nothing is stopping us from happening. All night, I’ve been lost in their endless touches, and holy hell, the scents are something I need in my lungs, on my tongue, over my skin.
“Where are we going?” I manage, talking around the thumb of the Alpha walking beside me and his friend, who is still hauling me over his shoulder.
“Our room,” he answers, his eyes locked on my lips as he watches me suck his thumb.
We haven’t gotten around to introductions. We should. I mean, I can’t call the Alpha carrying me over his shoulder dark chocolate or husband forever. Or maybe I can.
Although I’m sure I heard the other Alpha’s name before, he has obliterated my ability to remember anything, aside from his touch and presence. His kisses are as intoxicating as his sugary cinnamon scent, adding to the giddy high of the alcohol.
If I didn’t feel safe with them, there’s no way this would be happening. Now it is, it’s going to take a global catastrophe to stop us.
“Suck again. Harder,” My second fake husband barks. He is as bossy and dominant as my first.
By God, that works for me.
I comply with his demand, but he switches his thumb for two of his fingers. And we both make obscene noises at our shared connection.
The speed at which I’m being carried slows. I’m vaguely aware of the crowd, and some part of me registers the party is still in full swing.
Some of that festivity drops, like the temperature on a cool night. Especially from the Alpha carrying me.
There’s a standoff happening, and though I can’t see it for myself, I definitely feel it.
“Santiago, you’re not coming up with us,” the Alpha carrying me says, an edge to his voice.
I look up, still sucking on the fingers halfway down my throat, watching Santiago. He’s got a wicked glint in his eyes but a stubborn set to his shoulders. “What? I found her for you.”
“And I’m thankful you did. Now, fuck off,” the Alpha under me snaps. His voice rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating from his body to mine.
A little moan escapes me, making his body coil tighter than a spring.
Santiago’s entire focus locks on me. There's an obvious question, lots of double-checking. The moment I met him, I knew he’d watch over me, and that’s all he’s doing now.
“Thanks from me too. We’re good,” I manage, despite the fingers in my mouth. I wave at Santiago with one hand, while digging my other hand into my new “husband’s” jeans and squeezing his arse.
Santiago shakes his head, laughing, relaxing in an instant. If I was in his shoes, I’d do the same. Triple-check everyone is safe, doing what they want.
He throws a hand up. “Fine. I’m coming for breakfast, though. The buffet here is perfection.”
“Yep,” my second husband agrees quickly, pumping his fingers slower, taking my focus from Santiago back to us.
Then we’re off again, and anticipation makes my mouth dry, my pussy wet. Perhaps wetter would be more accurate. The combination of these two Alphas has had me turned on since the moment I saw them.
I lose track of time, getting caught up in what we’re going to be doing, and miss the Alpha’s question but not the stilling of his fingers.
“You good ma’ wife? No regrets from ya?”
I sit up so I can see him. “So ready, it's not funny.”
I hear a hum rain down from above me, and a second later, a hand pushes my legs apart. Carefully. Hesitantly.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.
Listen carefully, husbands. I’m giving you both full consent to copious amounts of sex, probably getting knotted by you at the same time.
No names. No bites. No talk of tomorrow.
Nothing but getting sweaty together. Does that work for you?
” I ask, innocently but with a healthy dose of self-assurance too.
I’m not naive. My body is my own. My mind, too, and who I choose to share either or both with is my choice.
I get two fingers plunged inside my pussy as answer, and I collapse forward as dark chocolate finger fucks me all the way up to wherever these men are staying.
Sadly, due to the lack of space in the elevator, or perhaps it’s because they’re both aware there are cameras somewhere, my other fuck buddy pulls his fingers out of my mouth and stands protectively in front of us.
The lift doors open into opulence. Similar to my hotel, this one is full of history and style, coming together in sultry and eclectic tones of black, gold, and marble.
“Fancy,” I tease as we go towards someone’s bedroom. Though it’s easy to guess it belongs to the Alpha who’s toying with my pussy, since his scent is everywhere. But it’s his presence, his dominance, that is the most evident.
And that’s where our talking comes to a stop.
The Alpha removes his fingers before settling me back on my feet near the door and walking inside the room without looking back at me. A message in itself— go if you need to, otherwise get in here.
I wait, leaning against the door frame, watching. My second husband lets his clothes drop as he makes his way across the room before turning to sit on the edge of the bed, legs spread, fully naked, cock in his hand.
The other grabs a bottle of whisky and drinks it straight. I nearly get lost watching him swallow. He leaves the bottle and takes a seat in the large leather chair next to the bed.
I flick the main lights off, dipping us into the darkness the night provides; the outside lights provide enough for us to see by. Easily. I can see each twist of the Alpha’s hand as he works himself, and also the conceited, cocky stare from my dark chocolate Alpha.
His look is full of want and expectation. Of dominance too.
If I want this, he’ll expect me to leave my sass at the door.
And yeah, it’s a bit of a flip from where we were, but at the same time, he’s well within his rights to be whoever he wants to be. The way he waits, not saying a word or influencing me, is as telling as who he is as the clan tattoo on the other Alpha’s chest.
There’s a lot going on, hints at who they are, but nothing concrete or concerning about what they do outside of here.
What I care about, what strikes deepest is him firmly placing the final decision back to me.
The way he quickly and unashamedly reverts to triple-checking only reinforces he might want my submission, but he also views me as an equal, a person strong enough to make decisions based on what I want too.
It’s a rare trait for an Alpha to have. It confirms to me how strong his personal morals are, appeasing that suspicious side of me too.
I like it. I want to discover more of his secrets.
And his friend’s, who has been equally quiet, held back, even while he strokes himself.
Not once has he lost his patience or swayed me with his natural assertions.
These two are a surprise, and I imagine that, outside of here, they’d be dangerous, though I hope they show me how powerful they are together in here too.
I hold my second husband’s stare for a moment; my gaze drops to the confident way he strokes himself.
And as if to prove a point, he stops the motion while his hand is at the top of his cock, stretching it, highlighting how fucking perfect it is.
I lick my lips before I move back to the other Alpha.
By far, he’s the strongest Alpha, under his gaze, I feel my certainty grow that I’m where I should be.
I peel off my dress, climb out of my panties, then sink down to my hands and knees. Toeing off my heels, I wait.
He twirls his fingers, the very ones that have been in my pussy, before dragging them over his lips. And I do what he wants, slowly turning around. I dip my shoulder down, spread my thighs wide, and present.
From behind me, a dangerous chuckle and words nearly lost under his accent. “Such a pretty feckin’ view. Now, get that sweet cunt of yours to me.”
Irish. The heavy brogue of the way he announces his words is fuel to my already smoldering desire. I adore an accent.
Climbing up to my feet, I approach the leather chair lovingly holding the huge Alpha.
All night, everyone’s been using Irish accents, embracing the whole St. Paddy’s Day thing.
I’ve heard thicker ones than his, fake ones, too.
Some I haven’t been able to understand, others that are laughable, but his is authentic.
I walk closer to the dark chocolate Alpha, stopping in between his widely spread thighs, being brazen as I start unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it open. His chest is as wide as I am, defined muscles barely moving when I trail my hand over his skin to push his shirt off his shoulders.
Like the other Alpha, he wears a family crest tattooed over his heart. I don’t focus on it, because tonight we’re just people.
He slides his hands down my spine, light as feathers, and I coil like a cat around the sensation, pressing my tits up.
“One thing,” he says, and I stop to wait to hear what he's going to say.
His smile brings a rush of butterflies to my stomach.
From behind me, there’s a laugh, low, conspiratorial, and it speaks of the past these two share.
“What?”
“If I’m fucking my wife, I want the honor of putting my cock in your cunt with my ring on your finger. All in the name of consummating our union, yeah?”
“Of course,” I agree immediately.
From behind me, my second husband pushes his hand against my shoulder blades and uses the chair’s armrests to keep me from falling face-first into the other one.
They planned this, getting me where they wanted.
And the Alpha under me digs a hand in his pocket and pulls out one of the plastic green and gold claddagh rings the Irish pub was throwing around like confetti.
He slides it on, and I hold it up for us all to marvel at.
“I’ll never take it off,” I preen, gushing over the gaudy thing.
We all laugh, but the drunken happiness inside me changes to something entirely different when the other Alpha runs his hands over my arse, finding my pussy wet. A simple touch, and I keen for more.
He’s in my ear as he glides further along my seam before sinking his finger deep inside my butthole. “This’ll be me. Your tight ring on my finger like this, and we’re as good as man and wife in my books, given I’m your husband as much as he is.”
I drop my head, moaning louder than a whore on her first night, as he expertly fingers my butt, hitting all the right spots and making my slick flow.
“Gods, yes,” I whimper, rocking back on his hand.
The Alpha in front of me watches my face before moving his eyes down my body slowly, his gaze as searing as his touch will be.
Clearly, they’re pack, because they communicate without words. Hubby number two shuffles me while my dark chocolate Alpha shifts the chair, dragging it closer to the bed.
While standing, he drops his jeans, his cock slapping against his stomach once he’s free of his boxers. Like his friend did, he works himself over while proudly showing off his dick.
My mouth waters because, exactly like his friend, he's got a beautiful—and I mean gorgeous—cock. Thick and long, the same honey tanned color as the rest of his body, trimmed body hair too. He’s uncut, and I want to feel the silky smoothness of him against my lips. He has the same idea.
“You’re still wanting this?”
“Till death do us part,” I say, smirking and leaning down. Being sassy earns me a slap on the arse; my hips roll into his hand, encouraging him for more.
I go from standing to up in the air before my feet land on the mattress, my second husband is behind me again. With a press of his hands to my thighs, I fold down like he wants, and he’s right there with me, his hands gripping my waist and his cock nudging against my entrance.
“We need rubbers? I’m clean,” is whispered against the back of my neck, up near my ear.
“Bare.”
“Such a good wife. We’re gonna fill you so you’re leaking us.” He chuckles before the Alpha in front of me reaches up and hooks his hand around my neck pulling me away from his friend.
“Fuck her, but I get to fill her cunt first. After she’s been a good girl and swallowed her husband's load, of course.”
Both his hands guide me down. I stop him with a hand against his stomach, so I can wrap my hand around his cock and savor the moment. Dark chocolate, bitter and decadent, coats his skin. I was going for a taste, but the instant I have his cock in my mouth, it’s a lost cause.
As I hollow my cheeks, he buries his hands in my hair and lifts his hips, filling my throat. Thank god for my gag reflex, and for his friend timing his first thrust, filling me perfectly.
They stop on a dime. I do too. All of us are a little stunned at the sense of rightness in the moment as we physically connect as one.
And it isn’t because we’ve been winding each other up all night.
It’s also not due to the Jameson we’ve been drinking.
I stop because I’m shaken to my foundation, and by their strangely intimate touches, their barely heard gasps of wonder, I think they might be feeling the same as me.
It lasts just long enough to become a memory, and they do that thing again, moving without talking, and together, we hit some really fucking high notes.
We swap positions and return favors, sharing each other and the rest of the bottle of liquor for hours and hours until we’re all overflowing and full of sexual satisfaction and shared rapture.
Their touches have been rough but full of sensuality and endless pleasure, and even when we collapse in a sweaty heap, their fingers hold me tight enough to leave bruises on top of their marks already there.
My eyes are so heavy, they refuse to stay open, and the slow, steady beat of one Alpha's heart against my ear, and the other’s sweet breath on my neck, I fall asleep as quickly as they do.