Woman of the House: A Dark MMF Romance

by Abby Angel

  We settle into the corner booth to better be able to scope out the guys coming through, and begin sipping our strawberry margaritas.

  “Ash, you just need to be honest with him,” Natalie pronounces out of nowhere.

  “Honest? With who?” My mind is a little fuzzy around the edges at this point; I’m like three margaritas in and feeling loopy as shit from it, which is exactly the point. Except, it does make it hard to follow conversation topics.

  “Apollo. Mr. Kane. Tell him that you’re sorry and that you want to stick your tongue down his throat.” She picks up her drink and sucks on the salt rimming the edge. “I’m pretty sure he’ll figure out how to handle it from there.”

  “I already told him I was sorry, and I can’t just tell my boss that I want to stick my tongue down his throat!”

  Petulance warning ahead: I’m, like, the worst at saying sorry. No, I’m really, really bad at it. I already swallowed my pride enough to do it once today; I cannot imagine saying it again. I’d rather eat raw caterpillars than say I’m sorry twice. That’d be, like, awful.

  Natalie glares her evil, do-what-I-say eyes at me. “Ashley, I know that you’d rather streak naked down Broadway Avenue than tell someone you’re sorry” — she’s right about that — “but in this case, I think it’s necess—”

  She gasps and then her eyes cut straight over to mine. “Don’t look over there,” she hisses, her eyes darting back and forth between mine and something over my left shoulder, “but your Mr. Kane is heading our way.”

  “What?” I whip my head around, which makes Natalie jerk my shoulder and turn me back toward her again.

  “I told you not to look!” she hisses, staring deep into my eyes. “Just look at me. Don’t look around. Just stay calm. Nothing is wrong.”

  Which, of course, makes me want to do nothing but look around and panic and freak out, but Natalie’s pinning me to my seat with her eyes so I just stare back, unblinking.

  And then, he’s passing us. I can feel him even before I spy him out of the corner of my eye. He’s headed to the adjoining banquet hall. He must be a big man around here because they only use that place for large parties and there aren’t any today. So this guy can pretty much do what he pleases, I guess? Makes sense with a name like the Wolf of New York. The air just gets all electrical and hot and sparkly and I have a hard time breathing and I think that I should take a sip of my margarita, if only to have something to do with my hands while waiting for him to go, get out of ear shot, go somewhere else, which is when I swallow and send the margarita mix down the wrong tube.

  Which is how I end up gasping, crying, and Natalie pounding and whacking me on the back as I try to learn how to breathe again.

  Thank

  Fucking

  God

  Apollo has already passed and thus missed his opportunity to perform CPR on me.

  Or…

  I think for a moment, as I’m hacking up a lung, that a mouth-to-mouth session with Apollo might just be worth sucking tequila and ice down into my lungs for.

  Finally, when I can breathe again and the daggers of pain in my chest have eased, I grin at Natalie, wiping the tear off my cheek. “You, ma’am, have a full-on disaster area as a best friend. I hope you know that.”

  She grins back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  We suck at our new drinks for a minute—the waiter apparently taking my attempt at Death By Inhalation as being his cue to deliver more yumminess to our table—and then Natalie says, “So, what’s the chances that we run into our brand-new boss here tonight? I’m starting to feel like I’m in the middle of a romance novel.”

  “Hmm…” I say contemplatively. Despite the cold of my drink, I’m happily warm and relaxed now. “This can’t be a romance novel; I’m not falling in love with Mr. Kane. I’d rather like to stick my tongue down his throat though, or at least have him spank me like the bad girl I am.”

  “So more like one of those super sexy, insta-lust kind of novellas?”

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding my head vigorously. “Definitely one of those. Lots and lots and lots of sex.”

  Nat and I stare at each other for moment. “What are you still doing here?” she finally says and I stand up quickly, wobbling on my feet as I go.

  “The heroine is off to fuck the hero,” I say, snagging my drink from the table and waving it around grandly.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want full deets in the morning.”

  “Not a moment left out,” I promise, and then follow Mr. Apollo Kane.

  74

  Apollo

  My fingers drift gently over the ivory keys as the employees of the bar work to clean up. They didn’t have anything here and this room isn’t supposed to generally open to the public. But I’m Apollo Kane. I do what I want.

  I ignore the tinkling of the dishes and just let my fingers play the notes of the classical music that my mother spent most of my childhood beating into my brain. While other kids got to run and play and ride bikes, I was stuck inside on the piano bench, the white and black keys my only friends.

  I really should hate music because of this but somehow, music became my only refuge instead, from a father who was always gone and a mother who invented the term “helicopter mom.” I may not have grown up to be classical pianist, but I still love Beethoven.

  Taking over a new company is always hard, and when employees learn that I am indeed the enemy, no matter how much I lie to them in the beginning, it only gets harder. But today…today was worse than usual.

  Ashley made it worse than usual. How does one petite Blush employee do such a total mind fuck on me? Yeah, she’s hot—okay, really fucking hot—and she’s funny as shit; even when she’s chewing me out, I want to laugh, but she isn’t that special, right?

  I hear a throat clearing behind me. Tentative, quiet, almost not loud enough for me to hear over the vacuum cleaners and the dishes being stacked and the music spilling from the grand. I pull my hands away from the ivory and grab my scotch off the gleaming black surface as I turn to face…

  It’s like my thoughts conjured her up. She’s in a different skirt, one that doesn’t appear to be ripped, at least, and a shirt that’d make a blind man drool.

  I take a sip of my scotch, cocking my eyebrow at her, waiting for her to speak. I will admit that I was just trying to play her out of my mind right about the same time you'll hear me claim that my cock is three inches long.

  She clears her throat again and smiles painfully. “Ummm…I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for earlier.” She pauses for a moment and then clarifies, “All of the earliers.” I feel the corner of my mouth quirk up, despite my best intentions of keeping a straight face. “I shouldn’t have stolen your cab and I shouldn’t have made fun of you when I did and I shouldn’t have broken that vase and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Twice.”

  “Really, I think the vase deserved to be broken,” I say drily.

  “That’s probably true.” She flashes me a quick grin. “So, I have to admit, I’ve been curious all day, why were you taking a cab this morning? Can’t you just have your helicopter fly you in or something?”

  “Well, after my stretch limo got a flat tire in the middle of morning rush hour traffic, I figured a cab would be easier to catch than for me to have a helicopter hover over Bond Street, extend a rope, and have me hang on as we fly over Manhattan.”

  She busts out laughing. “Can you just imagine Mr. Isaouk’s face if you’d made your entrance at the base of a rope ladder hanging off a helicopter?” Her laughter is happy and free and her flushed cheeks tell me that she’s drank a little too much tonight and my cock tightens painfully in my slacks from the sight. She's too damn gorgeous by half, and the predatory side of me, the one that's earned me the nickname the Wolf of New York, roars to life. There's nothing that I want more than to take her and fuck her right here, right now, over this grand piano.

  She bites her lip and her eyes grow sexy as fuck and I know that she’s thinkin
g the same thing. Well, maybe not the grand piano part but that’s only because she hasn’t tried it before. Would she be into public sex? I don’t know.

  I do know I’m going to find out, right now.

  I snap my fingers, and the few remaining employees in the joint look up at me. I cock my head to the employee door and all of them take off like a shot, leaving the stacked dirty dishes behind.

  “Do you boss everyone around?” Ashley asks, crossing her arms and staring at me.

  “Yes.” I place the scotch back on the piano and push the bench out, standing up and stalking toward her. Instead of shrinking back, she stands firm, and despite myself, I feel myself grow harder at her lack of fear.

  Yeah, she is nothing like the women I normally fuck, and that makes her all the more delicious and desirable.

  “Are you going to boss me around?” This time, her question is soft and breathy and an invitation to do exactly what I do next. I shove my hands into her hair and tilt her head back, plundering her mouth, her hands finding their way up to my shoulders and into my own hair.

  I drop my hands down to her ass and pull her up around me, so tiny I almost feel like I’m carrying a child in my arms and I guide her legs around my waist. I hear her skirt tear but I don’t care. I’ll buy her ten skirts.

  Later.

  For now, it’s time to fuck her brains out.

  I carry her outside through the back door and to my waiting stretch limo—the tire repaired, thank god—and slide inside with her, keeping her legs wrapped around me and my tongue inside her mouth the whole time. The limo pulls away quietly from the curb and I don’t care. Nothing matters now, except fucking Ashley Miller and showing her exactly who is boss.

  75

  Ashley

  This is happening. This is not a hallucination, or a figment of my imagination. No, this is really happening. The moment Apollo told everyone to leave the bar, I felt my knees tremble and, in that moment, I knew there was no going back. I had become his, through and through. He grabbed me, took me to his limo and now… Now it’s time to sate myself, to do everything that I have been dreaming of.

  With my mouth pressed against his, our tongues dance around one another in a frenzy, and my hands go down from his chest to his belt. I curl my fingers around it, eager to unbuckle it, but he stops me, yanking on my hair.

  “On your knees,” he tells me, his voice more commanding than ever. His words make my insides clench and, if I was wet before, I’m a complete mess right now. I don’t think I have ever wanted a man this much.

  “Is that an order?” I ask him, a teasing smile on my lips. He yanks harder on my hair, forcing me to throw my head back and look him straight in the eye.

  “What do you think?” Just like that, I slide down from the seat and go to my knees, my hands running from his waist to his knees. Thank God stretch limos are this spacious. I position myself between his legs, moving my hands up and down but never really going for his crotch. There’s already a hard shape there, straining against his pants, and even though I’m dying to set it free, I take my time. Patience is the mother of all virtues, right?

  “What do you want me to do…?” I whisper, biting on my bottom lip and taking both my hands dangerously close to his crotch. The fabric under my fingers is already tented up, and I have to fight back the urge to simply grab his cock and stroke him over his pants.

  “Your little mouth… I want you to use it,” he tells me with a grin, easing the pressure of his fingers on my head. Never taking my eyes off of his, I grab his belt buckle and, moving slowly, start to unbuckle it. It comes undone with a metal clink and I pull the belt out from its loop, letting it fall next to him on the leather seat.

  Using only my index finger, I let it go down to his crotch and I trace the contour of his thickness with my fingertip. I feel it pulse and throb, and my heart tightens inside my chest as I realize that Apollo is finally at my mercy… Or, rather, I’m at his mercy.

  My fingers move as if they have a life of their own, unbuttoning each and every button on his pants. As I go down his crotch, his hard member pushes against my knuckles, urging me to go faster, and that’s exactly what I do; with one final tug I get his pants off.

  Still biting on my bottom lip, I flatten the palm of my hand over his black boxer briefs, my heart pounding so hard against my chest it almost hurts. I’m still not sure how I’m going to fit a cock as big as Apollo’s inside of my mouth, let alone inside my pussy, but I’ve never been a quitter. In fact, I love a good challenge… Especially when it comes in the shape of twelve long and hard inches of cock.

  Hooking my fingers on his boxer briefs, I pull them down and his cock springs free almost too violently. As it jumps into sight, I feel the flames of lust dancing behind my eyes and I can no longer resist it; reaching for it, I curl my fingers around his thickness. He’s so thick that grabbing him with just one hand is almost impossible.

  “You’re really…” I start, looking at him while I try to look for the right words.

  “I’m really what?” he asks, looking at me devilishly. As he speaks, his cock pulses against my curled fingers and, reacting by instinct, I start to move my hand up and down at a steady pace.

  “You’re on a whole different level… I never saw anything this… This big,” I finally manage to say, the grin on his face widening as I speak.

  “And it’s all yours…” he whispers, running one hand through my hair.

  “All mine,” I repeat, grabbing him tightly and leaning into his cock, my eyes never leaving his. I only look away when my lips are hovering over his glans, drops of pre-cum already glistening there. Using only my tongue, I reach for it and, the moment I finally touch the tip of his cock, his salty flavor hits me at once. It lands on my tongue and, moving quickly, travels all the way up to my brain, setting in motion a frenzy of desire and lust. “You want to see what I can do with my mouth, don’t you?” I ask him, pulling back from his cock and looking him in the eyes again. “Well, let’s see if you can take it.” With that, I open my mouth as wide as I can and dive into him.

  I feel his shaft pushing down on my tongue and brushing against the inside of my cheeks as it goes down, but I keep on pushing through. To see him and touch him was one thing… But to have him in my mouth is a whole new level. Only now do I realize how truly big he is and, if I’m being totally honest, I can’t wait to have him right between my thighs. I don’t care if it hurts, or if I can’t sit up straight for days… I just need to feel him in me, whatever it takes.

  I push myself down until my lips touch the skin at the base of his cock, his glans already pressed against the back of my throat, and I hold my position there. I keep his whole cock inside of my mouth until I can no longer do it, and only then do I roll my lips back up his shaft, slowly moving them until they’re wrapped tight around his glans. I go all the way back, and my lips smack as his cock pops out of my mouth. Then, I tilt my head sideways and, with my lips pressed against the side of his shaft, I brush them down until my lips are on his balls. I grab his boxer briefs again and, tugging hard on them, I send them down with his pants to his ankles.

  “Keep going…” Apollo groans, tangling his fingers on my hair again. I look up at him and, as I do it, I part my lips and suck one of his balls in. It’s large and heavy, and I can’t help but shudder as I imagine the amount of cum he must be holding inside of him. I have half a mind to suck on him until he succumbs to pleasure and gushes his load inside of my mouth, but I know that he wants much more than to just cum in my mouth… And, if I’m being honest, so do I.

  I lap with my tongue at his balls and then I move to the next one, repeating my motions. Pulling back, I open my mouth as wide as I can and, cupping both his balls with one hand, I suck them both inside of my mouth. They fill me up in such a way that my jaw starts to hurt, and I have no other choice than allowing them to slide out of my mouth one by one. I go back to his glans then, my lips and tongue tracing an upward line over his shaft, and I fit the tip of
his cock in my mouth once more.

  The pressure of his fingers on my head intensifies and I close my eyes, surrendering to the wild desire fluttering inside of me. I open my mouth as wide as I can and gobble up his shaft once more, bobbing my head up and down over his cock until the wet sound of my lips on his flesh fills the whole limo. It’s funny; I have never been with a man in a car (and a stretch limo, of all things), let alone while it's moving. It’s actually nice; the gentle purr of the engine travels up from my feet and knees to my groins, and then up my spine until it finally nestles in my brain, blending in with the soft warmness of desire.

  Still bobbing my head, I grab his cock with both my hands and start to suck and stroke at a matching pace, the pendulum motion of mouth and hands an entrancing one. I could keep going like this forever… You know, I always thought that a blowjob was solely for the man’s pleasure, but now I see that I was wrong; I’m sucking Apollo’s cock not because he likes it… but because I do.

  I only stop when he holds me by the hair, stopping my pendulum motion, and pushes me back until his cock pops out of my mouth. “You really know how to use that tight mouth of yours…” he tells me, deviousness in his eyes. “I wonder how your tight pussy will feel…”

  “Why wonder,” I tell him, a wild grin taking shape on my lips, “when you can try it out?” With that, I go up to my feet and climb on top of him, straddling him. He grabs me by the waist almost immediately, and hooks his fingers on my skirt. Grabbing harshly, he tugs on the already torn fabric and pushes it down; I raise my knees slightly, just enough for the skirt to go down my legs, and he throws it on the floor. Then, the skirt taken care of, his hands dart straight to my blouse and he pulls it over my head, forcing me to raise my arms up in the air.