ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories)

by Donovan, Astrid Lee

  Callie smiled.

  “Well not that I am generally fond of referring to myself in the third person,” she whispered, adding as she wiped an errant tear from the surface of her flushed cheek, “Callie Bradford says, yes!”

  Letting loose with a joyful whoop, Hamilton slid the ring onto her finger and held his arms open to her.

  Soon the couple sank in one another’s arms, kissing and embracing before pausing to admire the bejeweled symbol of their love.

  “Hamilton, this is all so beautiful—like something out of a dream,” she cooed, tone soft and dreamy.

  Hamilton nodded.

  “I agree, love,” he told her, adding as he cupped her soft cheeks in two tender hands, “So let’s complete the dream, baby. Here. And now.”

  Seizing her lips in a passionate kiss, he rubbed and swayed his full, soft mouth against hers as their tongues once again entangled, their arms and legs also entangling as they lost themselves in a white-hot cocoon. Her breasts crushed his chest as they rolled free and wild across the length of the deck; tearing each other’s clothes off as the waves beneath them rolled and rocked their boat—adding intense friction and rhythm to their moves as their hips and thighs locked between them.

  Finally breaking their kiss, Callie’s eyes flew wide to behold the spectacle of Hamilton’s gorgeous face against the backdrop of the glowing sun and azure blue sky; thrilling as she beheld the beauty of the man she was about to marry.

  This feeling was intensified moments later, as he ran a soft, soothing hand across her heaving breasts and down her gently rounded stomach; staring deep into her eyes as he teased the strands of her feminine nest before cupping her femininity.

  She let loose with a gasp as his long, agile finger plunged deep into her pussy; and as he once again touched her lips with the gentlest, sweetest of kisses, cradling her sturdy back with his cradling free arm, his finger probed her feminine entry as she sighed with delight.

  “Let me show you, my darling,” he whispered against her lips, “just how a husband loves his wife.”

  With these words he plunged his finger deep in her pussy, rubbing and probing her tender feminine walls with a tender but penetrating touch, his other hand mirroring its motion as he massaged her back.

  Just as his tongue slithered deep into her mouth, his finger slipped within her to caress her sugar walls; seeming to seek the source of her ultimate pleasure.

  And, just then, he found it.

  Touching and rubbing that sensitive spot just inside her slit, he set fire to that magical fountain known as the G spot; igniting her greatest pleasure point as a thin stream of translucent fluid erupted from her core.

  Her body quaked and undulated beneath him as pleasure overtook her, sending waves of sensation through every fiber of her being as she trembled in his arms.

  Seizing control of the encounter, Callie rolled over onto Hamilton as their bodies joined together; their limbs entwining as she plied his lips with a hot, grateful kiss.

  Their hips rocked wild against each other as her massaging hands rubbed and massaged every part of his flawless body, his chiseled pecs, his washboard abs, and his long, hard shaft. Finally she impaled herself on this stiff, pulsating member; their thighs clenching and their legs entangling and they grasped hands between them.

  Their lips again joined in a binding kiss, with the back and forth motion of their tongues mirroring the deep penetration of his member inside her. And even as he probed and penetrated her, he continued to hold her closer than close and run his fingers through her fiery hair; pulling her into him as they honored their engagement with a fierce, binding kiss.

  “I love you, Callie,” he whispered, his eyes flying open to stare deep into her eyes. “I can’t wait until I bring you back here—this time for our honeymoon.”

  With this he surged still deeper within her; delivering a deep, smooth stroke that sent her hurdling across the bounds of an incredible mutual orgasm.

  Swept up in the sensation of a powerful climax, one that seemed to bind her eternally to the man she adored, Callie threw her head back and let loose with her signature wail; the one that she’d sung as part and parcel of any of her self-penned love songs.

  Although this time, she couldn’t help but notice, the song was a duet.

  THE END

  FORBIDDEN ENCOUNTER

  Stepbrother Romance

  Chapter One

  I had never really seen Mitch as anything more than a bratty kid who came to stay with me once a month. When his mom married my dad, we ended up somewhere between friends and enemies; he would get rowdy the weekends he came down to stay, and generally brat around making sure that no-one was paying attention to anyone but him.

  It took me a good decade to realize that his acting out might have had more to do with the fact his mother had just remarried, a matter of months after her divorce, and he was still trying to process it all. Whatever his reasoning, it was difficult to muster up any genuine sympathy when I was a twelve-year-old kid, still trying to navigate a strange new world where I only saw my mother every other weekend. She had custody of my big sister, Jeanette, and I sometimes wondered if Jeanette had it easier than me, not having to put up with the sulking and acting out I had to. It didn’t matter, in the end, as Jeanette and I drifted apart and then back together over the course of our late teens and early twenties, and she often told me how jealous she was that I got to hang out with a cute boy a few times a month. Rolling my eyes at her, I remember explaining to her that, far from the sweet, summertime romance she was imagining, Mitch and I had spent most of our time at each other’s throats, the way kids do when they’re competing for affection. While I liked Eva, his mother, I could never see her calm, kind demeanour in him. I deduced that his dad must be crazy, and that’s where he got all his manic energy. Whatever the situation, I never really spent much time thinking about the thirteen-year-old who used to stop by my house every now and then. He wasn’t a blip on my radar.

  Even though we ended up forming some sort of uneasy alliance, as Mitch helped guide me through all the panic of preparing for college with his hard-earned experience, in that last summer I spent at home, I still found that Mitch rarely crossed my mind. I bumped into him at family gatherings, and we would occasionally share texts or emails about the practical side of organising things for our parents, but we never really formed a bond. We were too old when we met each other to adopt each other unquestioningly as new siblings, but too young to bond over shared life experience. We had met at that awkward in-between stage, and it seemed like that’s just the way our relationship would be from here on out. I had my group of friends, and he had his group of friends, and neither of us seemed to miss each other’s company that much. Besides, I was too busy with my career to genuinely focus on romance.

  Working as a copywriter in advertising, I always threw myself at my work with gusto. It was tough, bitty work that often felt like it didn’t actually move forward for months at a time, but when it all came together the feeling was exhilarating. At twenty-three, I didn’t want to be sitting on my ass, letting my college degree in journalism gather dust. I wanted to be out there, writing, creating opportunities for myself. And I think that’s where I saw the biggest difference between Mitch and I, the one I considered all but insurmountable: while I was driven and career-focused, he was happy to float around taking on freelance design jobs here and there to keep on top of his rent. I didn’t like the disordered way he lived his life, and I could imagine that he found my intensity pretty off-putting too.

  But why had he been on my mind so much over the last few days? I could tell you exactly why. We had an anniversary dinner coming up, and I knew that all eyes were going to be on our small four-piece family unit. As Dad and Eva celebrated their tenth wedding anniversary, Mitch and I would have to field questions about how happy we were for them and how glad we were that they’d found each other. It wasn’t that I didn’t mean those things, it was just that everyone assumed that Mitch
and I were the best of friends, simply because we didn’t hate each other and our parents were married. They saw us as siblings, whereas I saw Mitch as a casual acquaintance I couldn’t quite seem to shake off. Was that a cruel thing to think about him? Probably, but it was the truth.

  I had begun my packing two days in advance, ready for the big trip back home that would whisk me from the order of my city life back to the clutter and comfort of home. I was looking forward to seeing Eva and Dad, as my work didn’t often give me much of a break to get away. I had booked my tickets, packed my little spray-bottle of water to make sure my skin didn’t get too dry on the cross-country flight, and I was gone.

  As I sat in the airport, waiting for Dad to come and meet me, I watched a young couple embrace in the arrivals lounge. Both their faces were alight, grinning, overjoyed just to be in each other’s company again, and I couldn’t help but ponder on the state of my own love life - or lack of it. I wasn’t exactly looking for a partner at the moment, but I was hoping one would sort of just turn up and insert himself into my life. I knew I would actually have to put in time and effort when I wanted to settle down with someone, but all of that seemed like too much stress on top of my already buzzing social life and work commitments.

  I spotted Dad striding towards me through the airport, a smile cracking over his warm, crinkled face.

  “Zoe!”

  I sprang up, any thoughts about my singledom knocked from my head as I grabbed my bags and hurried towards him. I walked into his arms, feeling my body sag into him. Even just his familiar smell- of oil and coffee- was enough to help me de-stress from travelling.

  “It’s so good to see you, Dad.”

  “You too, Zoe. I was so worried you wouldn’t be able to make it, and it’s not a Brown family bash without you now, is it?” He smiled, picking up my bags. “Come on, let’s get to the car - Eva has dinner on, and I know she wants all four of us to sit down and enjoy it together.”

  “Four? Is Mitch already home?”

  “Yeah, he got in this morning, and he’s been hanging around helping Eva with the cooking.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “By which I mean completely getting in the way.”

  I smiled - Mitch had always been spectacularly bad in the kitchen. I knew that this meal would be memorable, one way or another.

  Chapter Two

  By the time that we had driven the forty minutes home, I was famished, my bag of chips lunch feeling insubstantial in my stomach. I walked through the door, and my mouth watered as I caught a whiff of Eva’s biscuits and gravy. She came wandering out of the kitchen, her dark hair scraped back off her face, and grinned at me, holding her hands up to keep from getting batter on me.

  “Oh, Zoe, it’s so good to see you. You must tell me about this new project you’ve been working on - in fact, why don’t you come through to the kitchen and grab a glass of wine so we can catch up?”

  Even though she was my stepmother and I guess I was meant to hate her, I had always really liked hanging out with Eva. She was smart, with a PhD in psychology, and had trained as a therapist before going into research. I followed her through to the kitchen as my father dragged my bag out of the car, and grabbed myself a glass from the cabinet as I passed. Then, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  Mitch was standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter. Or, at least, I thought it was Mitch. He had always been tall, but he looked particularly swarthy in the navy suit he was wearing - it was a little crumpled from a couple of hours in the kitchen, but it still looked good. His usually curly brown hair, which generally sprouted down to his neck, was carefully trimmed, bringing out the sharp hazel in his eyes. He looked…well - he looked pretty fucking good. And this is coming from the girl who he used to tease about getting zits.

  “Hey, Zoe,” He smiled, reaching behind him for the bottle of wine. “Can I pour you some wine?”

  I held out my glass to him, allowing him to fill me up. “Why so smart today, Mitch?”

  “Oh, I just had an interview at a comic book company,” He tried to keep his voice calm, but I could hear the excitement that bubbled over whenever he spoke. “They saw some of my web comics, and they’re thinking about hiring me as a staff artist.”

  “Really? Well, look at you,” I nodded; surprised to hear that Mitch might actually be getting something that resembled steady work. “Do they publish anything I’d know?”

  “Depends, how many queer superhero comics do you read?” He asked, cocking his head as if he expected the answer to be anything different than what it was.

  “I’m admittedly pretty behind on the queer comic book thing,” I shook my head, feigning annoyance with myself. “Must catch up on that.”

  Inside, my mind was trying to process everything that had just been thrown at it. One, Mitch was actually getting a job, and two; he had suddenly become kind of corporate and super-hot. These were things that I didn’t usually apply to Mitch, but I could already feel my opinion of him shifting under my feet. This wasn’t the cute, bumbling, drifting Mitch I’d seen when I was down for Christmas. This was an assured, more grown-up Mitch. He looked like a man now. He dressed like a man, acted like a man, spoke like a man - it was a revelation.

  “So, what’s bought on this bout of corporate slave-ish-ness?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine and stepping aside to let Eva get at some plates behind me. “Need a hand with that, Eva?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” she replied, her eyes flashing with amusement at me. I wondered if she could tell that I was sort of dazzled by how much Mitch had changed since I’d last seen him. Maybe that’s why Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about it in the car - to take me by surprise. It would be just like the two of them to cook something up.

  “Mitch, answer Zoe!” Eva nodded at me, and Mitch seemed to jump back to reality. He had a habit of sort of zoning out during conversations, as if his brain had just jumped a couple of dimensions while you were finishing your sentence.

  “Sorry, sorry. I guess I just…you know. I’m twenty-four now, and I want to actually start having something that resembles a normal life, as opposed to running all over town doing lots of little things, but no big one project. It all feels a bit…aimless.” He replied, shrugging. I couldn’t help myself as I watched his hand glide around his wine glass, noticing how long and strong his fingers were. I shivered a tiny bit at the thought- Jesus, what was wrong with me? This was a man who was, for all intents and purposes, my stepbrother. I couldn’t be getting shivery over him!

  I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and tried to relax. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, I kind of wish I had had some time to mess around doing nothing in particular before I started work, but it’s good to have some stability, you know?”

  “I thought all journalism graduates were always “working on their novel,” he teased, “Don’t you have that to mess around with?”

  I pulled a face at him. “Ad copywriting doesn’t really lend itself well to fiction. Unless you’re talking about Mad Men, and I really don’t think my office could be mistaken for the sixties.”

  “So, I’ll be joining you in corporate drone world, then!” He nodded, his face clouding with sudden nervousness.

  “You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “It’s just about finding a place where you and your clients can agree. It’s difficult at first, but then, so is most semi-creative work.”

  “Hey, I’ll have you know that I’ll still be doing very creative work,” He shot back. “Not hawking my soul to some big company so they can increase their profit margin.”

  Laughing, I took another sip of my wine. “That’s why I always try to come up with shitty adverts for the big companies, then I at least feel like I’m doing my part for socialism.”

  He grinned back. It felt strange to be talking about these very real, very grown-up things with Mitch, but it felt good, too - me and him were on the same wavelength, having come from the same family, but it felt like now was the first time I’d realized it. Maybe it was becau
se we actually had something to talk about, but the conversation flowed freely between us for once, instead of having to be stimulated by forced reminiscing about when we were young.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Yelled Eva from the dining room, and I went to gather up the wine and take some glasses to the table.

  “Good talking to you, Mitch,” I said as I swept past him into the living room. My hand brushed against his bare wrist, and I felt a sharp bolt of electricity as our skin connected. Looking up at him for a moment, I was certain that he’d felt it too - his eyes were suddenly serious and focused on mine, his lips slightly parted, but then he seemed to shake himself free of whatever mood had struck him to follow me to dinner. Jesus, what the hell had that just been? I didn’t even want to consider the implications of that look. Plastering a big, fat smile of my face, I entered the dining room and placed down the glasses and the wine. Okay, this was going to be an interesting weekend.

  Chapter Three

  By the time we were clearing away the plates for dinner, I was thoroughly stuffed and a little tipsy to boot. It had been one of those warm, fuzzy, postcard affairs that I always hoped our family gatherings would be - the conversation flowed with ease, the food was all eaten, and we didn’t seem to run out of things to talk about that involved all four of us. I guess it was a big change, having Mitch looking at getting a real job, because it felt like he clicked in as part of this family so much more. All of us were career-minded in our way, and it was like he had just shaken off the last accoutrements of his slacker dad to actually do something with his life.

  And it was hot.

  Yes, I knew I was letting the wine get to my head. And yes, I knew that he was still my stepbrother. But he was different now, the awkward teenager long gone and replaced by someone a whole lot more…appealing. His maturity was a turn-on for me, and I couldn’t believe how much he’d changed since last time I’d seen him. It was as if he’d grown five inches, a real man who took up space and seemed to actually be a grown-ass adult. For once, we were at the same point in our lives and we were able to appreciate it. So we sat up a little later after our parents had gone to bed, ready to get up early and prepare the house for the onslaught of guests who’d be coming down to congratulate them the next morning. We poured glass after glass of wine, and just kept talking - exchanging anecdotes we’d never dare tell our parents about the crazy times at college, or what we’d got up to in the name of adolescent love in high school. We had to keep our voices down, which was tricky because he kept making me giggle hysterically. He told me about his first time smoking pot, his college girlfriend, the first time he’d actually been paid for his work as a designer. It was strange to have so many little bits of his life sketched in, especially considering the fact that I’d known him for years and spent so much time with him. I felt like I should know him better than this, and I was catching up for time I’d lost back in our youth.