Read Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set Online
Authors: Lola Swain,Ava Ayers
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Anthologies, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Collections & Anthologies, #Anthologies & Short Stories
“You don’t want me to fuck Patrick or you don’t want me to
fuck any other man?”
James looked down at my chest and smiled.
“I love your dimples,” I said and licked his cheek.
“What’s the answer to my question?”
“Can we just leave it at that for now?” He said and
dragged his mouth down my chest and sucked on one of my nipples.
“For a bit, yes,” I said. “But, if I am not to fuck
Patrick, you are not to fuck Céline. Deal?”
“Yes,” James said, “deal.”
I arched my back and pushed on his head so my breast went
further into his hot mouth. He nibbled on the tip of my nipple and ran his
tongue back and forth around my breast.
Patrick lifted Céline up under her arms and tossed her
onto the bed. She landed beside me on her back.
“Oh, you are a randy boy, aren’t you?” Céline said to
Patrick. “Get up here and give me that hard cock.”
“How do you want it, muffin? Ass or cunt?” Patrick asked
as he stood at the end of the bed.
“Why, both of course,” Céline said and giggled.
Céline grabbed my face and kissed me as Patrick parted her
legs and ran his tongue up and down her pussy.
“Can you still taste yourself on my lips, Sophia?”
“Yes,” I said and licked my lips.
“I want more,” she said.
Patrick pulled on Céline’s feet bringing her down to the
edge of the bed and stood between her spread legs. He held his cock between her
legs and rubbed the head around her pussy. She arched her back as Patrick
shoved his cock into her and looked at me.
“Climb on, Sophia,” Céline said and moaned. “I want to
lick your pussy while Patrick fucks me.”
I untangled myself from James and crawled down the bed. I
planted my knees on either side of Céline’s head and lowered myself down to her
mouth. Patrick thrust his cock in and out of her and as he did, her mouth and
tongue moved up and down my pussy and I gasped.
“Oh, my God,” I said.
James knelt behind me and scratched my back as he pulled
my hair.
“Do you like that?” he said into my ear.
“Yes, it’s amazing.”
“Go down on her, Sophia,” James said as he pushed my
shoulders forward. “Return the favor.”
I slid down Céline’s body toward her pussy and lowered my
mouth to her. I watched Patrick’s thick cock ramming in and out of her and I
grabbed onto the edge of the bed and licked her.
I pulled up on Céline’s mound and her clit popped out from
underneath the hood. I closed my lips around it tightly and sucked on Céline’s
clit as I would a cock. Céline dug her fingers into my thighs as I rocked my
face and my tongue back and forth across her pussy and rubbed my pussy back and
forth across her face.
And then...well, and then the best part happened.
As I lay on Céline’s body as Patrick fucked her, I licked
her pussy and she licked mine, I felt James move behind me as he straddled
Céline’s head.
“Spread your knees, Sophia,” James said. “Poke that
beautiful ass out for me.”
I spread my knees wider planting my clit further into
Céline’s hot mouth. She dug her nails into my ass and I grabbed her legs and
sucked on her clit. James stabbed at my pussy with the tip of his cock and then
entered me fully to the base from behind. I took my mouth off Céline and I
screamed as James pounded me, forcing my body up and down Céline’s body with
each thrust.
“Suck her off,” Patrick said and pushed my head down until
my lips once again closed around Céline’s clit.
My entire body throbbed as Patrick and James hammered me
and Céline in unison.
Animals, each one of us, thrusting and grinding and
clawing. Wet with sweat, wet with sex, wet with bestial profanity.
This is the way it is always supposed to be, no faint
hearts or self-conscious agendas...just deep, raw fucking where pleasure is the
only thing on the brain. And in a moment of riotous climax, we four screamed
from the deepest parts of ourselves and came.
And then, we collapsed where we lay and slept like a den
of bears in winter.
“When your heart is broken, your boats are burned:
nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness and the beginning of
peace.”
George Bernard Shaw
James and I were back in the library a few nights later
sitting at the large, shiny mahogany conference table, opposite each other,
reading. It seemed like we were making a home there.
“Will this be our room?” I said.
“Do you want it to be? I’ve always stayed here, I like the
books, but if you don’t like it--”
“No, I love it. I just wanted to know. I like to feel like
I have a home.”
“Well, now you have a home.”
“That’s nice,” I said and smiled as I looked around the
room.
“James?”
“Yes?”
“The other night was fun, right? I mean, with Céline and
Patrick?”
“Are you asking a question or making a statement?”
“I felt closer to you. It’s kind of strange to say that
since there were other people involved, but I did.”
“I felt closer to you as well,” James said and went back to
reading his magazine.
“Yes, it was fun,” I said as I recalled the events.
“James?”
“Yes, Sophia?” James said and put his finger on the
paragraph of the magazine article.
“You owned a lot of companies, right?”
“Yes, many.”
“So were you a millionaire?”
“Millionaire? Blasphemy!” James said and clucked his
tongue. “Billionaire is more like it.”
“Huh,” I said and smiled. “Wait a minute...Verrazano...are
you the bridge builder?”
“Look at these hands, Sophia. Do these look like the hands
of a bridge builder?”
“I don’t know. You are the man who told me he was a
caretaker, remember?”
“Yes,” James said and laughed. “That was pretty dumb. But
no, I am not the bridge builder. Anyway, it was named after the explorer, not
the man who built the bridge.”
“I never knew that,” I said. “What types of companies did
you own?”
“Steel, publishing, design firms--architecture, not
furniture arranging. I have an airport in the West Indies and a hotel in Ibiza.
Oh, and jewels.
“You own a jewelry store?”
“No, a diamond mine in South Africa,” he said and
chuckled.
“Wow, jack of all trades.”
“Yes,” he said and looked back down at his magazine, “and
as it came to be, master of none.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I can think of one thing you’re a
master of.”
“Well, I don’t think cock master was what my mother was
going for when she encouraged me to start businesses from the time I was young.
But as it was, I was addicted to acquiring and collecting.”
“Women too?”
“Yes,” James said and sighed as he looked at me, “women
too.”
“How positively pedestrian,” I said and fluffed my hair,
“a millionaire, excuse me, billionaire playboy.”
“Hey, it was what it was.”
“And the money, what happened to it?”
“It’s still there; accumulating, waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“My return,” James said as he focused on the latest issue
of the
New Yorker
.
“Your what?”
“What?” James said and looked up at me.
“Did you say your money is waiting for your return?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said and tilted his head.
“I do,” I said and covered the page of his magazine with
my hand.
“Then why’d you ask what I said?”
“Because I wanted you to clarify. Is there a possibility
of returning?”
“Of course not, Sophia,” James said and picked my hand up
off the page and put it down next to the magazine on the table. “It was a
Freudian slip. Anyway, to answer your original question, my brother Richard is
in charge of them now and is probably running them into the ground. Every time
I see the name of one of my companies in a magazine or newspaper, I have to
stop reading. It hurts too much, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” I said.
I grabbed the latest issue of the
Boston Globe
off
the newspaper rack and scanned it for any news on my case.
“James, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, June bug,” he said as he looked up at me. “Ask
away.”
“Do you ever wonder why you came here?”
“I know why I came here,” he said and closed his magazine.
“I was thinking about putting in an offer to buy this place. I was fucking
around with a new chick and I brought her along.”
“I know, but of all the chicks you could have fucked and
all the places you could have fucked her, why her...why here? Of all the places
Brandt could have picked to take me on a honeymoon, why here?”
“That’s the way life works, Sophia. Look at Kevin Parsons,
he came here by accident when he took a left when he should have taken a right.
Then what happens? Poor guy decides since he’s here, he might as well stay and
cancels his reservation at the Trident where he was originally booked. Then, he
slips on the bathroom tile and smacks his temple on the corner of the cast iron
wash basin and dies. That’s all it is for anyone, Sophia. A left when it should
have been a right.”
“The Road Not Taken,” I said.
“What?”
“The Robert Frost poem. ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and
I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.’ ”
“Exactly,” he said and smiled.
“How the hell am I going to get Bobby Allen out of this?”
“You have to accept the fact that you may not be able to.”
“I can’t. I cannot let a man sit in prison for something
he did not do to me.”
“There is no you left, remember that,” James said and
frowned.
“You know what I mean. Couldn’t I send a note? Just a few
short words to the police to push them toward Brandt and Nellie?”
“No,” James said and slammed his hand on the table, “it is
absolutely forbidden!”
“But why?”
“Because it is against the Law. Don’t you think I’ve
wanted to write letters to my attorney directing him on what to do with my
companies? Don’t you think that any one of us would like to write a letter to
our fucking loved ones hoping to ease their pain? And do we? No, because it is
against the Law.”
“But what happens should the Law be broken? I mean, what
can they do to us now?”
“Sophia!”
“I’m just asking, as in, hypothetically.”
“I don’t know, Sophia,” James said and stood from the
table. “Ask me why I don’t know what happens when the Law is broken.”
“Why don’t you know?” I said.
“I don’t know what happens because no one has ever broken
the fucking Law! You didn’t see what rose up to initiate your Soul the other
night because your eyes were tightly closed. But let me tell you something, had
they been open and you did see, you can bet your tight little ass you wouldn’t
be questioning their Law.”
“Alright, alright,” I said. “I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I fucking do. It’s just that--”
“No more, Sophia.”
“Okay,” I said, “no more.”
“There’s my good girl,” James said and walked over to me
and gave me a kiss. “You know what you need?”
“To be fucked?” I said and unbuckled his belt.
“Yes, that,” he said and smiled. “But first, let’s take a
walk down the beach and watch the sunset.”
“Okay,” I said and sighed. “Then fucking?”
“My lord, where did all this robust lust for fucking come
from?” James said and took my hand and walked me to the library door.
“You’ve taught me well,” I said as we walked out of the
library and down the corridor.
“Man, it’s packed,” I said to James as we entered the
lobby from the side entrance.
“Summer,” he said and grabbed my hand and threaded us
through the crowd.
As we came upon the set of French doors that led out to the
pool patio, I heard her voice before I saw her when her distinctive English
accent shot into my ear as it bounced off the marble walls of the lobby.
I stopped short and yanked on James’ hand.
“What’s wrong?” James said as he turned to me.
“Katt,” I said and looked around the lobby, “she’s here!”
“Sophia, let’s go,” James said and dragged me toward the
French doors.
“Absolutely not!” I said and tried to wrestle away from
his grip.
“Nothing good can come from seeing her.”
“Whatever,” I said and yanked my hand from his and set
about to find Katt.
I jogged through the lobby dodging the guests coming at me
while James ran behind. I saw her standing at the front desk, rapping her long
nails against the marble desktop and tapping her toe.
She was dressed beautifully, as she usually was. An
expensive pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses sat atop her head holding her long, wavy
hair, now dyed a rich Auburn, away from her face. I walked up to the desk and
stood next to her.
“Sophia!” James said and stood behind me.
“I just want to see her,” I said.
I reached out and ran my fingers down Katt’s cheek. Her
face felt very warm.
“Please feel me, Katt. Know I am here.”
Her eyes, usually clear blue with shiny whites, were
bloodshot. Her lids were red-rimmed and puffy.
“Katt, I’m so sorry,” I said and touched her arm. “Please
forgive me.”
“Sophia, please. I don’t like to see you upset. Say your
goodbyes,” James said.
“Goodbye,” I said into her ear and pressed my lips against
her cheek.
One of the reservation clerks, a particularly snotty-looking
girl named Darla, came up to the desk and stood in front of Katt.
“I’m sorry, Miss--”
“Lawson.” Katt said. “I’ve told you twice already.”
“Yes,” Darla said and cleared her throat, “Miss Lawson.
Mr. Conway is not issuing any statements at the moment and we are to refer
everyone to the Barnstable Police Department.”
“I am not a goddamned reporter,” Katt said, then looked
around the lobby and leaned toward Darla. “Look, I’m sorry. Sophia Pearson was
my roommate and best friend. Won’t Mr. Conway come out and speak to me? Just
for a moment? Please.”