Chapter thirty-two #2
I see red, and my fist connects with his jaw instantly. So much of this fucked up situation makes me hate not only myself but him. Most days, I regret giving her the green light to investigate their relationship; it burns every damn day. I pull a coin from my pocket.
“That was a compliment, you idiot.” He rubs at his jaw. I’ve hit my brother more since meeting Samantha than I have in my whole life. She brings out a possessiveness I’ve never felt before. It’s almost uncontrollable.
“Heads or tails,” I ask him.
“What, you’re seriously going to toss a coin to see who goes first?”
“Got a better idea?” He shakes his head. “Well, shut up and choose.”
***
Samantha
As I apply my makeup in the mirror, a soft green candle flickers in its glass vase.
The aroma of jasmine fills the air. Typically, this essential part of putting yourself together isn’t located over the dressing table where it would make perfect sense.
No, I can only see my reflection in a full-length mirror located on a random wall with no outlet nearby.
Why do even the most luxurious hotels get this simple requirement wrong?
All I want to do is sit down and do my hair and makeup, but poor design makes it difficult.
Sitting on the floor, I survey myself in the glass and thread mascara through my lashes.
The long black strands extend before my eyes, highlighting the blue beneath.
Once again, I look to the door, willing it to open and both of my men to walk through.
I left the latch off so nothing would cause them to falter if they decided to visit.
Time passes insanely slow, the large wall clock ticking each second at what feels like half-time.
Once my makeup has been applied for the third time, I push up to stand and look at myself again.
Walking back from the spa, I debated what would be suitable to wear this evening, unsure who would be coming to visit.
I never expected either of them to be here.
I didn’t want to make any assumptions, but also wanted to leave every avenue open to be explored. I opted for a simple, black lace pajama set of a tank and shorts that cut high, exposing the bottom of my ass cheeks. Either of them would appreciate that.
Worrying that neither man will appear, I begin to pace around the most stunning hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. I’m on my fifth lap when the door opens, and Russell walks in, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and two flutes in the other.
“Impatient, Trouble?” he says, closing the door with his foot. My heart sinks in my chest when I realize Connor must have left without seeing me. “Sorry, Connor and I had some business to sort first.”
“What kind of business?”
“A game of luck, and the winner got you.” His mouth moves into a small smile, but there’s a sadness in his eyes. “He still isn’t ready to see you with someone else. But I think in time…”
“I doubt it,” I say, moving to sit on the bed.
He walks over, lowers down beside me, and places the two glasses on the side table before opening the bottle of fizz.
I watch as he masterfully pours two glasses with one hand while holding me to his side.
He passes me one, then collects his own, angling it in my direction. We tap them together and take a sip.
“To our girl,” he toasts, and I blink at him. “My brother will come up and see you later.”
“Our girl?”
“Yes, Trouble. You’re not only mine but his. And for now, until this is all over, you’re ours. Know that we’ll both protect you with our lives.”
His words are firm, direct, and honest. The truth behind them burns bright, and tonight is the safest I’ve ever felt.
“We both love you, Trouble. And I know no matter what you decide, that’s a fact that will never change. You will be ours whether we physically have you or not.”
I lift my glass to my lips again and drink deep, draining it. Russell’s eyes roam over my body, starting at my lips then moving down to my breasts which strain against the dark silk fabric.
“I love your pajamas,” he tells me, a single finger skimming over the material at my chest. “The perfect blend of pretty but damn sexy. How easy is my access?”
“You’ll need to investigate that yourself,” I tease, standing then deliberately strutting to the opposite side of the room and putting my glass on the farthest unit from the bed. His focus never leaves my body—I feel it on my skin every step. I turn back to face him and drop my hands onto my hips.
Russell remains on the bed. He watches me with hungry eyes, then his fingers move to the top button of his shirt.
He unbuttons each one, pulls the hem from his trousers, and stands.
My stomach flips, awed by his sheer size.
My mouth dries as he unclips each cufflink, places them on the bedside table, and shrugs out of his shirt. He throws it onto the floor like trash.
My gaze runs over his torso; fuck, he looks incredible.
The leather belt from his hips slides free.
He holds it across his middle and snaps it hard.
The sound crackles, and my pussy clenches immediately.
The dangerous man who stalked me for months is in this room tonight.
Still holding the belt, he raises an eyebrow.
“Come here, Trouble,” he orders. Without hesitation, I walk over, stopping less than a meter from him.
His eyes flick to a bottle of massage oil.
“Pick it up.” I swallow, the sexual tension in the room high.
When I don’t move instantly, he cracks the belt in his hands again.
The leather snaps deliciously in the air.
“Pick. It. Up.” I reach for the bottle and hold it at my chest with two hands.
“Open the cap and squirt.” He smirks on the word “squirt.”
“Fuck, Trouble, I can’t wait to watch that pussy of yours squirt all over my face.”
The pussy in question throbs with the dirty image of me sitting astride his face as he licks deep and my juices run into his mouth.
“Squirt some of that oil into your palms and come here.”
I do as he says, rubbing my hands together then stepping toward him.
“Now, place those pretty fingers on my skin and oil me up.”
Starting at his shoulders, I set a palm on each side of his neck then trail my hands downward.
My fingers spread across his chest, the bumps of his nipples in the center of each hand.
The oil slicks over his skin, creating a shimmer under the dim lamplight.
I glimpse up, and it’s clear he’s undressing me with his eyes.
“Keep going,” he orders, and my hands obey.
They move over every inch of his torso, enjoying every indentation and bump.
Occasionally, my fingers skim the waistband of his trousers.
The bulge of his cock tells me he’s loving this as much as I am.
He turns under my fingers, and I repeat the process with his back, the hard muscles beneath my fingertips solid and tense.
Once every inch of him is covered, he spins back to face me, still holding the belt.
I watch in awe as he moves the leather into one hand then unbuttons his trousers with the other. He slips off his shoes, sliding the material down his legs and removing his socks at the same time. The items join his discarded shirt. He cocks his head to one side and smiles boldly.
“Take off my boxers.” I reach for them and pull the silk down his legs.
He kicks them to the side as his cock hangs, fully erect and demanding.
“On your knees and suck.” Every word is filled with authority.
Unhappy with my hesitation, he retakes the belt in both hands, cracks it, then hooks it around my waist and pulls me hard against him.
He leans down. “I said kneel, Trouble. Suck. My. Cock.”
His lips drop to mine briefly, then retract.
My knees buckle, and I’m left at eye level with the tip of his dick.
My tongue darts between my lips, excited as the leather touches the back of my head.
He applies a little pressure, encouraging me forward.
I open, taking his cock in my mouth. His hips flex, pushing deeper as he maintains pressure on the strap.
He holds me to him, and I close my lips around his thick cock.
My hands move to his thighs and he pauses.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, and I mumble an indistinguishable “No,” my mouth full of dick.
“Good,” he groans, starting to move again.
The belt holds me steady as he thrusts, his momentum building fast.
With my eyes closed, I take him, loving the sensation of hard cock sliding over my tongue.
I hold his thighs tighter, digging my nails into his flesh, encouraging him to go deeper.
He pushes forward hard, and the tip hits the back of my throat.
“Fuck,” he yells as salty cum explodes in my mouth.
It coats my tastebuds as his cock leaves my mouth.
When withdrawn, I smile up at him and lick my lips.