Surrender To Me (The Wolf Hotel Book 4)

I mock scowl. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”

Henry tops up my glass of white wine. “I am. I think we’ll both need it to deal with Margo tonight.”

“Oddly enough, I’m getting used to her antics.” My gaze drifts over the dining table, set for five. Margo informed us that she invited Ronan and Connor for dinner, too. She informed us with a beautiful, impish smile and a declaration that we of course would be more than happy to have them.

To my surprise, Henry merely nodded.

“At least she behaved today,” I murmur through a sip.

“You didn’t hear the things she was saying to me in French.” He smirks. “Besides, she was busy sizing up her fuck toys. Those two were losing their shit over that fifteen-hundred-pound Kodiak pacing around. Meanwhile they had a hundred-and-ten pound predator sitting between them.”

The five of us and Philip the pilot sat on an embankment for hours and watched a family of bears roam the plains below, throwing passing glances our way to let us know that they were aware of our presence, but seemingly unbothered by it.

It was equal parts amazing and terrifying. How Henry doesn’t have indents from where my fingertips dug into his forearm, I don’t know.

“I’m sure they can handle it.”

Henry fills another snifter with high-priced Scotch—his second.

“From what I’ve seen, those two deviants will be fine.”

“What do you mean? What have you seen?”

He holds the sip in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. “Surveillance videos.”

“You’ve been watching surveillance videos of Ronan and Connor having sex with women?” I’m legitimately surprised now.

“One woman.”

I frown. “But those two know there are cameras everywhere. Ronan wouldn’t do anything like that on a hotel camera.”

Henry regards me for a moment. “Not a hotel camera. The cameras in the bedrooms of my grandfather’s cabin.”

My mouth drops open. “You have cameras in there?” Oh my God.

“Relax. I put them in after you left.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “You mean you put them in because of me.”

“Yes,” he says simply. “I didn’t want them turning my grandfather’s cabin into a fucking brothel.”

“And? They were in there again?”

His lips twist. “Once.”

I frown. “But you didn’t fire them.” His mercy on my account can only go so far, I would imagine.

He sighs. “No. Because then I’d have to fire Belinda, too.”

“No way!” I gasp. “Belinda?” I think back to the times Belinda crossed paths with us in outdoor crew. She showed them nothing more than subtle disdain. “There’s no way.”

“Oh, there were many ways. And at the same time.” His eyes light up with a devilish look as he sips his drink.

“You watched it?”

“She called me to confess when she realized she was caught in the act. The cameras aren’t hidden but they’re also not overt. She didn’t notice the one sitting on the dresser until she was… in a compromising position.” He sips at his Scotch again, barely hiding his smirk.

“So you watched Belinda having sex.”

“I did.”

“And you call Connor and Ronan deviants,” I mutter. “Can we say pot and kettle?”

His brow arches. “Are you calling me a deviant?”

“I would never,” I mock.

He settles that wolfish gaze on me. “I have never claimed to be a saint.”

“You’re enjoying this entire conversation!”

He merely chuckles.

“You deleted it though, right?”

He opens his mouth to answer and then pauses. “Why? Do you want to watch it?”

“No!”

“Does it bother you? Them, with other women?”

“You know it doesn’t,” I answer honestly. “But you should have told me. I don’t like secrets any more than you do.”

“Fair enough.”

The doorbell rings then.

“You’re going to be nice to them tonight, right?”

“When am I ever not nice?” Henry murmurs, strolling toward the door.

~ ~ ~

“You will have to come to my chateau for a visit. I think you would like it there,” Margo purrs between leisurely sips of red wine. The five of us have gone through many bottles, Connor and Margo staking their claim on at least three of them. Margo, because she’s Margo, and Connor because he’s too excited about having dinner with the supermodel to control himself.

Me? I’m drinking because the unspoken sexual tension in the air is almost choking.

The only two who seem to be practicing restraint are Ronan and Henry. They sit quietly, answering questions when asked, participating in moderate conversation.

And, I feel like, watching my every move.

“Can I clear these plates, sir?” one of the two servers who stood idly by to cater to our every need asks, her almond-shaped eyes taking in the scraps of chateaubriand and fingerling potatoes on Henry’s plate.

“Yes. Please.” Henry wipes his face with his napkin. “Clear everything, and then you can take your leave. We won’t be needing any more service from anyone tonight.”

She looks warily at the other server, and then at Margo, who organized this dinner. “What about dessert?”

“Take it back. We already have a birthday cake in the fridge. Right, Abbi?”

“Uh… I don’t even know if that’s edible. Maybe we should—”

“Perfect! We will all eat Abbi’s cake. I’m sure it is delicious.” Margo winks at me, her words laced with innuendo.

Oh my God.

It dawns on me that every person sitting at this table has gone down on me at least once.

Worse, I’ve been with every single person at this table in a sexual way, something none of them can claim.

My face begins to burn as I watch the two servers make quick work of the dishes, stacking them onto a trolley that’s prepped to go back to the kitchens.

“You doing some math in your head, Abbi?” Henry asks, feigning innocence. The bastard has already figured that out.

“Nope.” I grab my glass of wine and chug half of it.

And Connor and Ronan are left glancing back and forth curiously, not having caught on to the private joke.

“Give me a minute.” Henry follows the two servers out, pulling several bills from his wallet to tip them. I’ve heard from Rachel and Autumn that he’s always generous in tipping the staff when they serve him. It’s admirable.

“So?” Margo’s elbows are resting the table, her gaze shifting between Ronan and Connor. “Did you two enjoy the meal?”

“Yes. Thank you. It was incredible,” Ronan says, patting his belly.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten like this,” Connor adds.

“When have you ever eaten like this?” Ronan challenges.

“Never. I’m not even sure what I ate.”

I giggle at Connor’s blunt honestly. Oh, how I’ve missed that.

Margo’s musical laughter carries. “Good. Let’s retire outside.” Grabbing a full bottle of wine and her glass, she beckons. “Ici. Come, come….”

Connor doesn’t hesitate, grabbing his glass and trailing her out through the french doors. Ronan is a little slower to rise from his chair.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” His brow furrows. “I wasn’t sure how tonight would go, but it’s been fine. He’s not such an asshole.” He nods in Henry’s direction.

I smile. “I should hope not. You climbed down a shaft for him.”

“I didn’t do it for him,” he says softly. He sees Henry approaching, and gets up and heads out to join the others.

Henry’s gaze sits on his back the entire way. “He’s made it impossible for me to hate him. I hate him for that.”

I glare at him. “Would you prefer to be stuck in a mine right now?”

“No.” He holds a hand out. “Come on. We’re going out there.”

My stomach flips. “Henry… you and I both know where that’s leading.”

“And?”

“And?” I frown at his decanter of Scotch. How much has Henry had to drink? “Just a few days ago you didn’t want me anywhere near them. Now you’re taking me by the hand to go and watch them fuck Margo.”

“Call it curiosity.” He watches me evenly, but lets nothing else slip. “Come on. At the very least, it’ll be an interesting show. We can leave whenever we want.” He pours me another glass of wine—the servers left three full bottles on the table—and leads me toward the door. “Do you think them getting to fuck Margo will be fair trade for going down into that mine?”

“Connor would definitely say so.”

“But not Ronan?”

“No, he’d rather fuck—” I cut myself off before I finish that attempt at being wry, cursing the wine and my loose tongue.

I don’t need to finish the sentence though. The look on Henry’s face says he already knows as much. I just can’t tell what he thinks of it.

When we step outside, Connor and Ronan are lifting the cover off the hot tub. Steam swirls off the top and into the cold night air like a thick fog. The tub is set on the ground off to the side of the main porch, enclosed on three sides by a screened structure to give privacy and bug coverage, while opening it up to the rest of the porch. The roof is all screen, and open to the stars above.

I make myself comfortable on the nearby loveseat. The blanket that Katie wrapped round me when I was out here last, fearing for Henry’s life, sits in a heap. I cover myself with it now, as this fall maxi dress doesn’t provide much warmth. Henry takes a seat beside me.

“How do you… oui, like this,” Margo murmurs to herself, her fingers dancing over the control pad. A beep sounds and bubbles erupt in the water. Setting her wine glass on a side table, she proceeds to push the sleeves of her dress from her shoulders. The entire thing falls to a heap on the wood floor.

“It’s ironic that she makes millions modeling bras and panties, and yet she doesn’t own a single pair,” I murmur softly, earning Henry’s chuckle.

We all watch a nude Margo climb into the hot tub, and it’s impossible not to admire her for both her physique and her confidence. While Henry and I completely expected this turn of events, she still gets points for shock from the other half of our group.

Of course, Ronan is so good at hiding his thoughts. His face shows only mild surprise.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Connor stands there slack-jawed. He’s been on his best behavior all day with Margo, biting his tongue against the sexual innuendos, showing his best manners. No doubt he had fantasies about where tonight could go. He just wouldn’t have expected it to be so easy for them to turn into reality.

“Are you two going to leave me in here alone?” Margo mock pouts, her eyes raking over first Connor and then Ronan.

Connor turns to look at me, and then Henry. “Are we gonna get fired for this?”

“Considering what you haven’t been fired for… no, I’d say you’re safe here,” Henry mutters.

That’s all the approval Connor needs, reaching over his head to peel off his shirt.

He’s definitely grown stronger than the last time I saw him shirtless, I note, my gaze drifting over his back.

He makes quick work of the rest of his clothing, leaving everything in a heap. No one could find fault with Connor’s body and he knows it. He walks confidently toward the hot tub, his cock, long and hard, bobbing with each step.

I feel Henry’s gaze on me and I realize that I’ve been caught looking at another man naked.

I quickly avert my eyes.

“Abbi….”

“Yeah?”

Henry leans in. “You’re allowed to watch.”

“Ronan, come,” Margo taunts, beckoning to him. “Don’t be timid.”

Ronan’s deep, raspy chuckles carries in the air. Amusement over the very idea that stripping in front of us would make him shy. With slower, sleeker movements than Connor, Ronan strips down. Even Henry is watching.

Ronan reminds me of a lion, the way he takes the steps down into the tub, pausing in front of Margo to give her an eyeful of his cock, which she eagerly admires. He’s also grown in muscle, his stomach and arms more defined, his ass even rounder. He slips into the water to take a seat on the other side of her.

Margo settles that devious gaze on us. “Henry….” French words sail from her lips.

Henry responds smoothly in French. They go back and forth several times, leaving the rest of us oblivious.

Finally, Margo switches to English. “Abigail, would you like to join us? We will behave.”

I give her a doubtful look.

It earns her laugh. “I promise. What is it you Americans say? ‘Cross my heart’?” She drags a finger over her left breast. Her nipples sit just at the waterline and the move draws the acute attention of both men on either side.

I look to Henry, who’s watching me intently.

“Is that what you want?” he asks evenly. “To strip down in front of them and get into the hot tub?”

“No.”

His eyebrow rises knowingly.

My stomach tightens. “I don’t know.”

Below the blanket, Henry’s hand slides under my dress, up my thigh, and unceremoniously into my panties. I gasp as he pushes a finger inside me. It slides in too easily. “Really… I think you do know.” If he’s upset by the way my body is reacting to the erotic tension Margo is spinning, he doesn’t let on.

“Well… what about you?” I reach out to find his inner thigh, using it as a guide to grasp between his legs.

He’s rock-hard.

“Really…,” I mock.

He smirks. “I never denied anything.”

Margo, Connor, and Ronan have started their own conversation and are laughing between sips of wine, paying no attention to us.

“Yes. I do want to,” I finally admit, accepting that I’m enjoying this thrill that’s coursing through my limbs. “But only if you’re there with me.”

“Well good, because that’s the only way that’s ever going to happen.” He leans in to kiss me tenderly on the lips. And then he stands and kicks off his shoes. “Coming?”

Am I really going to do this?

I finish my glass of wine, set it on the side table, and then pull myself to my feet. Henry already has his shirt off.

I quickly pull my hair to the top of my head in a messy bun and fasten it with the elastic I had around my wrist from earlier. Henry disappears through the set of french doors that leads into our bedroom for a moment, leaving me alone with three sets of eyes, waiting quietly for me to undress. When Henry emerges, he’s naked.

“Can you help me?” I ask, turning my back to him.

He unfastens the clasp at my nape, the one that keeps my dress secure.

With that undone, I’m able to push the material off much like Margo did. With a deep breath, I let it slide, leaving me in my panties and bra. Cold air bites at my exposed flesh.

Henry’s standing knee deep in the tub, his hand out. “A little faster, Abbi. This cold won’t do wonders for my ego.” He languidly strokes his hard length once with his free hand to emphasize his worry, unconcerned that everyone’s watching us.

“She is so beautiful, is she not?” Margo purrs, her eyes like fingertips on me.

Murmurs of assent come from either side of her, their eyes burning into my flesh.

I’ve been with all of them before, I remind myself.

They’ve all wanted me, I remind myself.

They’ve all expressed that they still want me.

With that mental boost to my confidence, I reach back and unfasten my bra. My breasts fall free, full and heavy, my nipples pebbled and not from the cold.

A groan slips from Connor’s throat. He always did have a thing for breasts. My breasts, especially.

Pushing my panties off my hips, I step out of them. I take a deep breath and, holding my head up with more confidence than I have, I grasp Henry’s waiting hand to follow him in.

Margo’s eyes are molten as they drift from my face to my breasts, to the apex of my thighs, where they stall, her lips parting as if with memory.

The water is hot. Borderline too hot. So hot that I’m forced to take extra time, giving plenty of opportunity for enduring looks.

For some reason, I can’t bring myself to look at Ronan.

Henry finally seizes my hips and pulls me onto the seat beside him. He settles his arm over my shoulder. “If anyone touches her in here, I will end you.” The threat is delivered in his typical smooth, calm fashion.

“What if my foot accidently touches her foot,” Margo taunts, her long, slender leg emerging from the center of the tub to flick several drops of water at Henry’s face.

He says something back to her in French that makes her throw back her head and laugh, a murmur of “oui” sliding from her lips.

Ronan smirks as he watches her closely.

“What did you say?” I ask Henry.

He leans in to whisper in my ear, “She’s going to have her hands full of cock soon enough and to stay away from my pussy.”

My eyes can’t help but veer to those dainty, very experienced hands. Currently, one is occupied with a glass of wine, while the other absently twirls strands of hair.

“So, hey… Margo. Do you know Giselle Mullock?” Connor asks.

“I do. I know her well.” She winks slyly at me. “Why? Do you find her desirable?”

“He jerks off to pictures of her every morning in his bunk. No, not at all,” Ronan murmurs, his head tipped back to expose his angular throat.

“You’re such a jackass.” Connor reaches around Margo to flick Ronan’s ear.

“Are you saying you do not pleasure yourself to pictures of her?” Margo’s eyes are intent on Connor.

“Well, yeah, but….” He offers her a sheepish grin. “It’s not because I need to.”

“Because you sleep with many women?”

Connor’s mouth opens but he stalls, unsure how to answer that, if admitting that he’s slept with many women will turn her off.

Henry chuckles. “Stop baiting the poor guy, Margo.”

She finishes off the wine in her glass and stretches to set it at a safe distance behind them, putting her nipple inches away from Connor’s mouth in the process.

He squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain.

“I am not baiting him. I am just getting to know him better.” Her hand slips under the water.

I can tell the precise moment that her fist wraps around Connor’s cock. His shoulders lift a touch, as if in surprise, and his lips part with a soundless gasp.

“So, tell us about yourself,” she says casually, as if she’s not giving him a hand job under the water and we don’t all know about it.

Connor clears his throat. “Fuck. Well, uhhh… I’m living in Miami. Ronan and I are actually roommates.”

“Really… for how long?” Margo feigns interest, forcing him to carry on a conversation while she strokes him.

“He’s going to unload in the water, Margo,” Henry warns.

“He is not. Are you?” she asks sweetly.

“In about ten seconds,” Connor admits.

“So soon?”

Connor laughs. “I can’t help myself. It’s you. You’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

She tsks. “That is not allowed to happen in the water.” She leans in to whisper something in his ear and then presses her lips against his. They share a sensual kiss that lasts for a few moments, that all of us quietly observe, and then Connor breaks free and lifts himself up to sit on the ledge, his cock jutting out.

It’s impossible not to watch as Margo gets to her knees and fits herself between Connor’s legs. Without any licking or otherwise teasing—probably because it’s cold out of the water—she takes his full length into her mouth and down her throat in a practiced move, her lips stretched to capacity to accept his size.

The intimate act—the fact that she’s doing it in front of all of us—makes blood start rushing down into my belly and along my thighs.

“Jesus Christ. Margo Lauren is sucking my dick,” Connor moans, gripping the back of her head with one hand, his eyes on her.

Both Henry and Ronan chuckle. Must be a guy thing.

“How are you doing?” Henry asks quietly, his hand disappearing under the water. I shiver as I feel it slipping between my legs.

“Good.”

He slides two fingers into me. And smirks. “I would say so. Open up.”

Nerves churn in my stomach as I stretch a leg over Henry’s lap, giving him better access. He takes it, sliding in a third finger to stretch me wide. He begins dragging his thumb over my clit in smooth, leisurely circles. “No coming in the water,” he warns softly, his gaze on my parted lips.

I reach for his lap, wrapping my fist around his cock and gently pressing the very end of his tip. “Ditto.”

He leans in to drag his teeth over my earlobe, and then whispers, “Then, unless you’re ready to suck me off with an audience, you might want to stop that.”

Connor and Margo aren’t paying any attention, but I can feel Ronan’s gaze blazing against my profile. He must know what Henry is doing to me with his fingers.

What would it feel like, to have Ronan’s eyes on me while I kneeled before Henry? He watched while I went down on Connor. He watched when Connor’s tongue was inside me, too. He watched and I felt his eyes and I loved every moment of it, while it was happening.

If it were Henry I was with while Ronan watched? Henry’s cock I was teasing? Henry’s tongue inside me?

I seize Henry’s hand with a sharp inhale and pull my legs together.

“No? Or just not yet.”

“I….” I hesitate. “I don’t know.”

He studies me quietly, as if he can read my thoughts. As if he can tell that I’m afraid to admit that, yes, I would enjoy it if it was Ronan in that audience. With a kiss on my lips, he settles his hand on my thigh. We turn our attention back to the others, in time to watch Connor gently thrusting into Margo’s mouth. A series of low groans escapes his parted lips as he releases.

Beside me, Henry’s breathing has quickened.

“Holy fuck. Thank you, sweet Jesus,” Connor murmurs as Margo releases his cock from her mouth. He slips his giant body back into the water and lazily reaches for her, touching her somewhere beneath the water.

With a satisfactory smile, she wipes the spit from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Ronan, darling, would you please fill my glass of wine?”

He glances over at the wine bottle, sitting in the far corner and out of reach of anyone sitting in the tub, and smirks. “No problem.” He eases himself out to perch onto the edge just as Connor did.

My eyes automatically go to his jutting length as he reaches for the bottle and leisurely pours her a glass. He’s hard and ready, and yet he hasn’t made a move on Margo.

When I look up, I find his heated gaze on me.

“Ronan has an exquisite body, don’t you agree, Abigail?” Margo asks, reaching with one hand to accept her wine, while her other smooths over his muscular thigh.

My mouth opens, but I stall on my words. “Yes, of course he does. He knows that.” I meet his eyes once more before shifting my attention and body toward Henry. I wrap my arm around his waist and lean in to bury my face in his neck. I run the tip of my tongue along his skin, savoring the saltiness.

“Has Abigail enjoyed….” Margo finishes her sentence in French.

He answers in French, to which she throws something back, and Henry shifts his gaze to Ronan.

I frown. “Have I enjoyed what?”

“Nothing.”

“You know, it’s really annoying when you two do this. It’s like you have a secret language.”

“French is a secret language?”

“It is for the rest of us.”

“Margo’s just stirring trouble.” Henry’s hard gaze is set across from us.

“What are you afraid of?” she goads through another sip, her steady gaze matching his. “She is highly sexual. She adores you. She will never stray. Do not let your selfishness and jealousy get in the way of what you know she would enjoy.” She ends her thoughts in French.

A third voice jumps in, fluently answering her.

And all of our eyes shift to Ronan as he eases back into the tub.

 “Dude, you speak French? What the hell?” Connor’s face is filled with shock.

Margo slaps him affectionately across the chest and prattles off in her native language and he responds.

“I guess it’s not such a secret language after all.” Henry studies Ronan as if for the very first time.

“What were they saying, Ronan?” I press, knowing he’ll tell me the truth.

He twists his lips. “Margo was asking if you’ve enjoyed having two men at once, and Wolf told her not in the way she’s meaning. And she suggested letting me join you and him tonight,” he describes calmly.

My stomach tightens.

“What about me?” Connor exclaims indignantly.

“No. It must be Ronan. Besides, you are already busy for tonight.” Margo smiles coyly at Connor, pulling her legs up and apart until her knees are peeking out of the water. His hand is clearly between them, working her over.

It must be Ronan.

Why?

Because I’ve already had sex with him?

Because I trust him completely?

Because ever since she put the idea out there earlier today, my mind has been toying with it, wondering? Fantasizing? In a way that would never happen with Connor or any other man?

Margo pulls herself out of the hot tub. “It’s quite warm in there, isn’t it?” She parts her legs to give everyone a full view of her bare pussy, her lips swollen from arousal. “Connor, please help me.”

Connor moves fast, as if he’s going to lose his chance. He fits his broad shoulders between Margo’s slender legs, pushing her thighs apart even farther before burying his face.

She fits one leg behind Ronan’s head, so that he can see Connor’s tongue working her. He watches quietly, his gaze drifting to Margo’s face intermittently. Does he want to have sex with her? Of course he does.

What part will he play in it?

Without warning, Henry grabs me by the waist and swiftly pulls me onto his lap, the move setting my breasts above the waterline. Margo’s and Ronan’s eyes immediately lock on them, watching as Henry reaches around to cup and knead them.

Ronan says something in French and then Henry is circling my nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Ronan’s green eyes flare with fire. Henry pulls me back against his chest and I feel his hard cock between my legs.

“Tell me now… do you want that?” he whispers.

I don’t need to ask what he means. “I want you.”

“You have me no matter what.” His hand presses against my cheek, forcing me to turn to him, to meet his eyes. “Are you curious to know what that feels like?”

A soft yes curls around my thoughts, but I bite my tongue. “I want… I want your mouth on me and your hands on me, and you inside me. And I don’t want anything to happen that will make you love me less, or make you not want me anymore.”

Margo’s soft moans are growing louder and in frequency. They grab Henry’s attention momentarily. He watches as she writhes under Connor’s tongue, her gaze now focused solely on Connor. Perhaps Henry’s thinking past that, to the time that he gave her exactly what she’s pushing him to give me.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

His cock twitches against me, but he says nothing, seemingly content to watch Margo as she grinds against Connor’s face, panting. She unravels a few moments later, her head tilted back, her cries sailing into the night, completely unabashed.

Even during orgasm, Margo is beautiful.

Connor climbs out of the tub just far enough to wrestle his wallet from his pants pocket. He pulls out two condoms, tearing the foil package of one of them with his teeth and tossing the other to Ronan, who catches it easily.

“Go inside. I’ll be there in a minute,” Henry murmurs to me.

I climb out, feeling Ronan’s heated eyes on my bare ass as much as the biting cold as I rush through the door and into the warm interior of our cabin. I quickly wrap myself in my robe but the shivers have kicked in, shaking my body. They’re all going to be freezing when they come out, I realize. So I dig out a stack of towels from the closet in the liaison’s quarters and head back.

Margo is straddling Connor’s lap and rocking back and forth. They’re alone in the tub and paying no attention to me.

I quietly set the stack of towels there and head back inside.

“Abbi. Come here,” Henry calls from the bedroom.

I find him next to the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist.

I frown. “Where did Ronan go?”

“I’m right here,” Ronan calls from the chair in the corner, also in a towel that Henry must have given him. The gas fireplace has been ignited, pumping heat into the room.

My stomach flips with nerves.