The Hot Brothers

A short story i *might* work on as a side project while clearing the holidays and completing a few things IF it seems interesting enough to people. noncon because there would be a kidnapping come soon with a lot of freaky sex in a decked out RV dungeon. The Heir and my Fae work are my biggest priorities writingwise, so it probably won't come out too quickly unless I get stuck again with those.

I designed floral arrangements for many occasions, be it weddings, special events, or even funerals. Some so far as a hundred miles from my small town, but never across multiple state lines or at a value over a few thousand dollars.

One of my small online gothic designs landed me this last minute job setting up the floral arrangements for a masquerade reserved for guests of excessive wealth. For the most part, many of the men who'd spent the day passing by or sipping brandy and gawking at women were average at best. A dozen or so were handsome, but there were two who had me struggling to focus on my task.

They were the sort of men in billionaire romances that could have a girl dripping with need. Even in jeans and simple dark tees they gave off a sexy alphahole vibe. And by the green eyes and dark hair in top knots they both shared, they must have been brothers. One appeared more to late twenties, while the other appeared to be still-sexy mid-thirties.

I may have only slept with two men in my twenty-two years alive, both from my boring rural hometown, but I'd probably fantasized about being dominated by hundreds--not counting the delicious men in every dark romance I could get my hands on.

And as i placed a centerpiece of dark roses on their small table, the younger's predatory stare had me wanting him to stand up so his tall frame could tower over me with dominance before bending me over the table and lifting my long skirt onto my back. He could have me mewling in front of every man in here, and every minute would feel like heaven--at least, in my fantasy.

That was how my day started, and I'd expected it to end before the gothic masquerade began. But it didn't. As it turned out, my job involved maintaining the bouquets and grand blooming displays through the night.

I wound up being ushered into a room with other women to have makeup perfected and clothed for the event. The dress a woman speedily put on me was black with far too much cleavage and a short ruffly skirt, cinched tight with a purple corset as dark as some of the eerie flowers I'd meticulously placed. I was given a small black lace mask, which few of us wore.

Given their height, the brothers were fairly easy to spot. Now, the black suits they wore made them look like the sort of mafia heirs I could stay up all night reading about. Their black masks resembled wolves, matching the way they prowled, scanning the crowd. The trio of strings made their actions all the more predatory as daunting classical pieces played. It was the cello that made their movement so ominous as their canine coverings were turned in my direction. Even when I hid in the shadows they found me from across the area where guest dances, some with the serving girls they fancied.

If the brothers had been typical guys from my hometown, I would consider their actions as stalking. But these weren't men in flannel with scruffy hair, they were a fantasy that shamelessly had me bent over every table I passed. One holding my wrists while I writhed beneath the other, whose tongue lapped at every inch of my body from breasts to my aching core.

Trying my hardest to preoccupy my mind as they weaved closer, I focused my attention on a display of black roses that lined a stone table filled with small crimson deserts. I questioned my own sanity as I craved them as ruthless antiheroes that could have a heart swooning.

My curious study of the disguised guests landed my eyes on the older brother directly across the way. He was speaking to a group of men for the moment. The slow lowering of his champagne fluke when his magnetic stare consumed mine gave sight to his parted lips.

Heat pooled between my legs. A heat that most definitely would have me drenched if I looked a moment longer. My steps sped, and I wove between bodies.

In my nervous escape, my shoulder bumped a woman in midnight purple as she turned, causing me to mumble my apology for the clumsiness and hasten my steps. Nearing the cello's plea, I noticed the dazzlingly tall mid-thirties brother's self-assured stride my way, setting his empty fluke on the tray of a passing server.

Breathe. Listen to the music. Focus. And I tried my best to guide the roses, letting the silky petals at my fingertips consume my attention. But god did the pulsing in my core increase as the male in my periphery closed in, too perfectly aligning with the conquering pace of the violin.

So steadily he approached, my heart began to race and the pounding took over, but not quite causing a panic. An exciting defeat added to the melody, leading me to imagine the glide of his hand along my back before gently gripping the hair at my nape.

"Dance with me." The voice was as smooth as the bloom I held and as foreboding as the rapidity of the violin. At this nearness, his handsomeness outshined any sound or sight in the room.

A dance

Seconds passed before I found my voice. "I am...uh..." A swallow caught thick in my throat.

He took my hand and guided it from the bloom my trembling fingers could no longer grasp. "You're going to dance with me." This time the words came out stronger; more certain of his rule over my will.

I had no doubt the look in my eyes answered any question about whether or not my underwear were soaked. They certainly informed him I wouldn't dare stop him when his fingers laced into mine. Yet again I found myself lost in this crowd of unusual people. In muffled noise, drowning the cello's joy in what was about to occur.

The new heels I wore felt akin to lead stilts as I followed him to the center of the banquet hall, under the flickering candlelight of the golden chandelier.

Dizziness took hold. How does one even begin to dance. My conservative upbringing never permitted it, so my experience doing such could be counted on the fingers of my clammy hand he tightly held.

The excitement and fear as I followed gave a whole new meaning to this darkly romantic opus I loved so much. Luckily, it would end soon and I could return to my dreaming of the brooding brothers. Or perhaps it would forever shape the outcome of every future creation as I let this fantasy bloom into a darkness that would ruin me to the touch of any other man.

He pulled me close. Closer than proper, but then again, propriety mattered little in this crowd that contained more than a few lecherous men. Most likely, it was the terrifyingly massive erection that would forever shade my memory of this night.

After a clumsy landing of my foot, which didn't quite follow his backward step, he raised a curved forefinger to lift my chin, piercing me with his maddening emerald gaze. "Keep your eyes to mine."

"Yes," I breathed. Maybe my conservative upbringing was what led me to add, "Sir." Or even the danger in the tune. Someone was to be triumphant in this exchange, and it wouldn't be me.

His lips remained parted with desire as he swiftly glid sideways, leading me toward darkness. Into the wicked shadows as strings raced with passion. Were they so fast as they seemed if time dragged and my body became lost to the surrounding twinkles and feel of him?

And why did the crescendo end with a spin that would have sent me off balance if not for the glide of his hand on my forearm, which pulled me to him once again--to the erection that held warning of what might come of this night.

Bodies moved around us as he kept me close in an embrace that I felt certain wouldn't yield--ever. Even when the sounds morphed in steady promises of too many dark things to count.

"I'm going to fuck you." he spoke matter-of-factly; villainously husky.

I believed his threat. Or was it a promise? Either way, an involuntary quiver took hold of me. If anything, it had been too long since I'd slept with someone. And I'd never had a one night stand. I never so much as left my small rural hometown aside from events.

It truly would be a night with no strings attached. One encounter that might break my core, given the size of his manhood. If I were that type of woman, which, beyond dark fantasies and a vibrator, I wasn't.

I followed his lead as he moved backward, my footing even less graceful than the night began. How could I remain calm after the blunt warning of being fucked?

"I won't accept no for an answer." He assessed my expression, the pads of his fingers digging into my lower back. They wandered downward to my rear, dragging as though talons might extend any moment. The fear I couldn't hide must have excited him, because he added, "And you will fight me."

It felt as though my shoes turned to feathers as I succumbed to his guidance on the floor. What more did I dream about than a man who would do just that?

"I'm going to rip off your dress." He somehow managed to bring me closer than anytime previous, slamming me against the hardness at his groin. The way he held me should have sent me running, but it didn't. Trepidation and desire burst forth in doses too strong for me to harness.

"And once you think I'm done..."

He spun us, me awaiting his next words with wary anticipation.

"I'm going to bind your wrists."

The beat slowed, though even more menacing with the cello's wail.

His hand lifted mine to twirl me so my back rested against his front. Lips tickled my ear. "And your ankles. Both restrained In a way you can't escape me."

We took several daunting steps backward, each more fluid than the last. Now his palm firmly moved down my corseted stomach, finding my core. The black fabric tucked between my legs, and I feared he might feel the moisture if he continued to stroke the thin cotton.

"Then I'm going to make sure you know you are mine." His mouth trailed down to my neck, nipping as we turned as one being, slow and sensual as he lifted me further into the darkened corner of the banquet hall.

The conqueror and his prize, impossibly glued to one another as I feared he might discover my shameful excitement. Not that I was the only one enamored--the erection at my back had swelled to a dangerous size.

I still found no words in response to his wicked promises. Anything I could have said might end in a beg for him to be the monster he tempted me with. I could imagine horns sprouting from his mask as it morphed into a demon. Maybe Satan himself snuck up into these shadows to see if I deserved to be dragged down to the underworld, where he would rule over my lustful soul.

We spun past another pedestal, this one too poorly lit to see the roses. It further blocked the golden glow of the distant safety.

The epic creation of melody became hopeful and slow. The captivating sounds coincided with a steady strum that had us rapturously turning, my uncoordinated feet still barely to the floor.

He spoke again, this time lower as we'd distanced ourselves from the instruments. "I'll ravish you without mercy."

Take me straight to the depths of hell if that fate awaited. I would welcome the doom; accept any bit of torment if it landed me in such a place. With a fist to my nape and a slow pull that tilted my face upward to catch the reflection in his eyes, he added, "Eternally."

In the shadows

What went wrong in my life that made this so exhilarating? I'd been mostly proper with men before this dance.

Such firmness and domination unleashed a primal desire to be his. For this dance to play out time and again, leading into a darkness no sane mind dared to enter.

"Okay." I finally found my voice to breathe my acceptance.

His fist tightened in my wavy brown locks, forcing my mouth ever higher so his lips could crash against mine. Even the taste of him was as potent as his touch. It was a kiss that most definitely initiated his claim over my being. One that melted the world around us and had the fantasy simmering in my mind.

Forcefully taken by him. Every inch of my person ruled over in the most dark way. Yielding to the beast.

In all of this, I awaited the moment he pushed me against the wall and raised the back of my dress. When he would stake his claim and truly ruin my ability to accept any other man whose propriety hindered such deeds.

We gracelessly stumbled forward until my jutting chest found the wall i longed to be forced against, his hand releasing my hair to rove down to my right breast, coinciding with the cello, whose long cry most certainly foretold my shattering to come at the will of this tall man.

The kiss ended with me sucking in a large breath of precious air. Now I awaited the ravishment to come.

How many seconds would tick by before this man committed the deed? In this darkness, I couldn't make out his expression, but he had to be planning his means of conquer.

The fingertips near my core scrunched the short ruffled skirt, (corset and ruffled dress) pulling it upward with steady brushes against the delicate bundle of nerves, heightening my desperation for release.

Of course, one reasonable thought did register. "Condom." I didn't have one. I'd never suspected myself capable of such a behavior as this. Nor to be accompanied by such a male.

"Never," he snapped.

Now came my moment of self preservation. A heated encounter I could remember without consequence would be one thing, but a bastard child would be a line of shame I couldn't dare cross. I could simply leave the masquerade and return to my mundane small-town life without regrets.

As he sought out my slit and fondled my breast, I desperately grasped at the courage to end this secret pleasure. My attempt to free myself had me firmer against the wall and groped with more force.

"I already told you what I planned to do to you." The timbre held his delight in my failed attempt to leave.

He didn't waste another moment as he easily found my drenched gusset and yanked it to the side, aware of the evidence of my desire.

"Its my turn, John," another male voice said firmly. I knew it must have been the younger brother.

"Not yet." The older brother's fingers at my slit plunged into my drenched core; deep into the tight walls. Just the way I fantasized a man would have me. Even in front of someone else who also wanted me.

The demanding hand at my breast found my low neckline and yanked, freeing my breast. A pinch of my nipple between the knuckles of his long fingers jolted me with more craving. But the cock prodding my lower back was still certain to be a threat.

I squirmed again. Even if this felt too perfect to miss out on, it wasn't worth the risk.

"My. Turn," the younger growled.

I didn't know why they assumed turns were in order, but I was comforted when John freed me and stepped backward.

My spin for escape landed me against the younger brother's firm chest.

Both of his long arms stretched upward to brace him against the wall--blocking my escape.

"I need to be going," I said timidly, pulling my top into place. I didn't need anyone else planning to have unprotected sex with me. Nor did I want the fantasy to end in disappointment.

"My brother comes on a bit strong." His voice came out softer and more caring. "How about we start over, Julie? I'm Caleb." He spoke as though starting over wasn't debatable.

He already knew my name. I supposed his continued curiosity during the day had him keen to find out details about me.

"I really should attend to the decorations, " I said, struggling to control the variation in my tone. Given how I'd already begun to imagine gripping the arms caging me, as well as wrapping my legs around his waist, I could get carried away.

"The fun part is about to begin."

What more could come of this evening? "The fun part?"

"It's the part where you learn about everything we're going to do to you." As he spoke, the main area where people danced and congregated became brighter. The glow accented half of his shadowed face that was no longer masked, and I could see the handsome man who'd had my legs ready to melt since my arrival.