Dahlia's Kiss

1

DAHLIA

A big,hard, throbbing cock. The monstrous type. The type you take one look at, and you’re concerned it won’t fit. That’s what I needed. Unfortunately, men claiming to possess such an appendage almost always turned out to be liars, and I was getting dead tired of listening to the age-old adage, ‘size doesn't matter. It’s the motion of the ocean that gets the job done.’

Not if your ocean’s actually a puddle, honey. That won’t get me wet.

The problem was, I needed sex to survive. So, whether it made me happy or not, the little guys, or the average guys, would have to suffice. A hungry Succubus was a dreadful sight to see.

The barstool warmed under my bare ass, barely covered by the thin black sliver of a dress I wore. Crossing and uncrossing my legs with frustration, I weighed my options.

A lone man directly across the way eyed me hungrily, motioning towards the half-full drink in my hand. His pressing gaze motioned toward the sweating glass indicating he wanted to buy me another, even though I’d hardly touched this one. There could be some promise with that one.

Then again, the only other patron in the place, a man a seat away to my left, purposely grazed my lower back with his fingertips each time he passed on his way to the bathroom. I liked that kind of dominance. It intrigued me to feel him touch me without permission, and moisture began pooling between my thighs at the thought of what else he might do forcefully.

A full glass slid before me as the bartender smiled.

“From the gentleman on the other side of the bar,” he said, obviously used to seeing men try to pick up on the unaccompanied women who came here. “You want me to send it back?”

I locked eyes on the well-dressed man watching me with heat in his steady gaze. Brushing my long brown hair behind my ears, I leaned my body against the bar top, flashing the tops of my breasts from beneath the gauzy fabric.

“Yes, send it back. Tell him he’ll have to try harder than that. I'm not so easy.”

The bartender took the glass away as I blew my admirer a kiss from blood-red lips. He looked disappointed when the bartender gave him back the drink.

Man number two saw the exchange and took my dismissal as his chance.

“Does that happen to you a lot?” His voice sounded coarse in all the right places, vibrating through my bones like a bass drum.

“What exactly are you referring to?” I purred.

He nodded towards the first man, who looked significantly put out and waved. “You know, strange men hitting on you when you’re sitting here minding your own business.”

“You mean like you’re doing now?” I sipped my rum and coke, feeling the chill of the ice cubes against my upper lip.

He faltered, swallowed hard, and glanced at the other man, who seemed to be waiting to see what happened between us. There was no question; if he saw man number two strikeout, he’d move in, hard and heavy.

Hard was what I wanted.

“I didn't mean to offend you—”

I trailed my fingers up his thigh, stopping short of his groin. “Tell me. If I were to let you hit on me, what could I expect?”

His cock swelled in anticipation from behind the denim of his expensive jeans, and I hoped for something substantial.

Taking the cherry garnish from my glass, I made a show of sucking it into my mouth and watched his lips open with carnal desire.

“You tell me what you expect, and I'll make sure it happens,” he breathed his words in my direction, hanging on my every move.

Good boy. But I needed a bad boy.

Number One fidgeted with growing anxiety. From the corner of my eye, I saw him stand and move with cat-like grace to where I sat with the other. Both men were exceptional specimens. Tall, one with blue eyes, one with brown, immaculately dressed, and exuding sexuality in every movement. My pulse quickened as the two sandwiched me between them.

“Is he bothering you?” Number One asked, nodding towards his rival.

The tension in the room peaked as they squared off against each other.

“Not any more than you are.”

Number Two pushed in close, pressing the front of his thighs and straining erection against my knees.

Number One wouldn’t give up, though. Grasping my upper arm from my side, he sneered at the other man. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be accosted by someone like you. Why don’t you go find someone more on your level?”

Two’s shoulders rose with his fury. His eyes took on a dark look, narrowing, with the pupils contracting, the black pool diminishing until it was almost nonexistent. His skin flushed pink, and I knew he bit the inside of his lip from the contraction of his jaw. Thick hands flexed at his sides, his fingers digging into the flesh of his palms.

“What exactly do you mean by, ‘on my level’?” he asked, spitting his words with venom at the man who still gripped my arm. “Be very specific because how I take your words will determine how badly I kick your ass.”

Number One released me, taking a step around my body, which I casually blocked. Throwing my arms around Two’s neck, I pressed my breasts against his chest while throwing a come-hither stare over my shoulder at Number One. My jilted lover sucked in a breath, the air whistling as it inflated his lungs.

“Boys, come on now,” I purred. “You’re both pretty. How did I get so lucky to have two men vying for my attention tonight? But I regret to inform you that you’re both mistaken.”

I pulled free from Two’s neck and turned to face the first man, backing up until my backside pressed against Second’s crotch. His hands moved to my hips, running up my curves and grazing the sides of my breasts. I felt the heat between our bodies and craved more. More touching, more tasting, sucking, and fucking.

“Settle my tab,” I demanded to the first man.

“Mistaken how?” he asked as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slid a twenty across the black lacquered bar top to the waiting bartender. “You’re not seriously going to choose him over me. Are you?”

Two’s chest expanded with pride. Before he could gloat, I giggled, silencing him.

“No.”

Two tightened his grip on my midsection, his fingers claiming me, misunderstanding my reply to mean I belonged to him.

“Calm down, Tiger,” I cooed, pulling out of his grip and laying my hands on the other man’s chest. “I choose you both. You both will take me. Let’s make it a bit of a competition, shall we? Who can do it better?”

My lips fluttered against the first man’s mouth until he opened to me. The tip of his tongue barely grazed mine before I pulled away and turned back to the second.

“I’m not down with that.” Number Two raised his head to avoid my kiss. “I don’t get naked with other men. I don’t swing that way, honey.”

My lips stretched into a sultry grin. Reaching casually with my manicured fingers, I cupped the bulge at his crotch and felt it twitch beneath my touch. “Are you sure? You seem far too turned on for that to be a hard no. I mean, something is hard, but it doesn’t seem to be your resolve.” I tightened my grip, and a sigh passed his lips.

“You don't need two of us,” he whispered. “I can fuck you just fine.”

Number One stepped in close, turning me and taking my mouth forcefully. He tasted like whiskey as his tongue explored my own, cutting off my words. When he pulled away, I was breathless.

“I like women,” he said. “I’m not into men. You need to choose, or I’m walking.” He kissed me again, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. A shock of pain fluttered through my body, pulling something low in my belly tight.

“I will have you both or neither.”

This was where it would get tricky. Two men who naturally wouldn’t engage in sexual activity with each other were on my plate, and I had to convince them to throw their inhibitions to the wind. I prided myself on being damn good at this very situation, and my brain had already turned over the possibilities ahead. It helped that I was the only woman in the bar. If there were other options, I may not have fared as well.

I took a step to the side, leaving the two men to stare at each other. They were eye to eye, grimacing, threatening each other to back away with mirroring expressions of malice. Who would win the staring contest? We were lucky the bar was empty save for us, and the bartender didn’t seem too concerned with what transpired.

I would win, of course.

“I have a room in the hotel above—number 315. I’ll be in bed wearing whatever I deem necessary, and you’ll both join me. If either of you tries to come alone, you’ll get nothing from me. If you follow my instructions, you’ll get all of me and more. I promise you this; it will be a night neither of you will ever forget. My name is Dahlia, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

I left them there, still sizing each other up. My heels echoed on the marble floor in my wake. They didn’t make a sound from behind me. Both weighed their options, trying to decide if they should take the bait and delve into my offer, despite their reservations, or turn heel and go. I assumed neither of them wanted to be the one without the balls to see it through.

Their masculinity, which prevented them from sliding into bed with another man, would also prevent them from walking away from it. Neither of them wanted to appear weak.

What this would accomplish would be two men trying to prove their mettle. Each trying to outdo the other. This would be very entertaining, a veritable feast of pleasure. All it would cost them was the ecstasy they would so willingly give.