Hello everyone who is reading this new story. Thanks for stopping by. I've been away for a while. Hope you are all OK. This is probably a two shot or maybe a longer story, not sure really. Very much depends on your reviews, which are always welcome. Xx
"Champagne madam," said a waiter, setting down an ice bucket with a bottle of Crystal inside.
"I didn't order any champagne," she told him. There was no way she could afford it for one and neither could any of her friends who were dotted around the club, dancing or at the bar. If she were ever to order champagne, it would definitely be the house bottle to split between the girls. Caitlin was taking a five minute breather having been twirling round the dance floor with her girlfriends. So far it had been a great night. "There must be some mistake."
"It's been sent by the gentleman over in the VIP table, up there," he replied, pointing over to a roped off area filled with beautiful people. "Mr Dean Ambrose. He sends his compliments on your beauty."
Oh Christ. Caitlin looked up confused. She'd noticed the group of three men earlier. The whole club had. She knew who they were. It had been exciting earlier to have seen them out in the same place as her and her friends. On a hen weekend in Vegas, she had expected to see celebrities but oh the thrill when she realised that the Shield - the actual mother-fucking Shield were in the same hotel. On screen and in the ring she adored and lusted after them. The bad boys of WWE, gorgeous but vicious. Handsome but merciless. They were out partying after some award ceremony. All three immaculate in suits which was a change from their usual tactical riot gear. Women flocked to their table. At that very moment, the sender of the champagne had a busty blonde's legs draped provocatively over his. A strong hand rested on her bare tanned thigh. He leaned in close to the girl's ear, no doubt whispering about all the kind of things he'd like to do to to her. To accept the drink would surely give him the wrong impression. She was not like those girls up in the VIP area. Plus she was already tipsy and champagne would have sent her over the edge.
"Please pass on my thanks to Mr Ambrose but it's impossible for me to accept his kind gift," Caitlin said, his actions immediately making her mind up. The minute those words had passed her lips she felt a sense of foreboding. Their eyes locked, just for a few seconds which was scarily thrilling. Her breath caught her throat. His head was tilted to the side, his expression sober and those blue orbs burnt into her. It was clear that he was pissed off as he watched the waiter shrug and take the bucket away.
He stood up abruptly, tipping the blonde off his lap without a thought for her modesty, ignoring the shriek as she tumbled backwards on to the red, leather booth. Seth and Roman immediately sensed their leader's mood and the three huddled together in conversation. They occasionally glanced over at her causing goosebumps to crawl over her skin and heat to burn in her cheeks. This was not good.
Caitlin suddenly had the urge to leave the club. Her friends were nowhere to be seen. She sent a quick text to their 'Girls' What's App group whilst hurrying through the thronging, jumping dance floor. "Had enough fun. Going back to the hotel room. See you all later. Xx"
Breathing a sigh of relief as the music faded to a muffled hum in the lobby of the club, she strode out on to the shiny hotel reception floor, heels clicking and pressed the lift button. Calmer now and looking forward to taking her make up off, luxuriating in the plush hotel room and getting cozy in her pyjamas. Her naturally shy nature preferred the after effects of a night out rather than the night out itself. It was always somewhat of a relief to get through it and out of the way.
The lift took its sweet time to reach the ground floor. But then the hotel did have 34 floors. A ding announced its arrival and it being 2.00am, she was glad there was hardly anyone around. Stepping into the metal box, she rubbed her hand over her face. Did that just actually happen? She was tired and the Shield had given her a fright, causing an adrenaline come down. Her bed could not come soon enough.
Footsteps approached just as the doors were closing. A large hand, olive skinned in colour, appeared between the gilded sliding doors causing them to reverse open again. A massive frame followed, filling the small space. Roman Reigns stood right next to her, smirking but not saying a word.
Oh holy Jesus.
It got worse. Half a second later, Seth Rollins also entered the elevator which bobbed as he moved inside, with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Oh God.
Perhaps she should make a run for it. Head down she made a bolt towards an opening between the two huge men.
"Evening darlin'," a raspy but seductive voice said into the top of her head as she cannoned into a black suited chest belong to the one and only Dean Ambrose. Instinctively, her hands flew up and as they connected with the hard, unyielding planes of his torso, a jolt shook her being. He chuckled and proceeded to back her up the way she came.
Shit.
"Which floor baby?" Seth asked her. His voice had a mocking tone which she tried to ignore. Since Ambrose was inches from her proximity and staring her down with an intensity he saves for opponents in the ring, she could only mumble. "Eleven, please."
Silence pervaded the lift till it reached her destination, floor eleven. Ambrose's eyes never left her frame, as if devouring her and he stood uncomfortably close. The bastard was doing it on purpose. Ok, the sexy but frightening bastard.
"Excuse me,' she said softly and tried to find a path through five-hundred odd pounds of muscle. Roman made her halt abruptly as he side-stepped, blocking her exit. They were toying with her.
The doors closed again.
"Let me out," she said in as firm a voice as he could muster.
"Nope," said Ambrose.
"Penthouse Suite?," Seth said, pressing the top-most button, his expression amused.
"Why not?" Ambrose answered.
"That's not my floor. I need to go back to floor eleven. Please."
"You go where we say. Gentlemen," he murmured and indicated to the lift buttons. Seth hit the emergency stop. The lift came to an abrupt halt, the lights within flickering slightly.
"What the hell?" Caitlin cried, glaring at the three men in the mirrored box. She hated lifts and could get claustrophobic. Panic grew, her throat closed and a sickening dread landed in her stomach like a stone.
Ambrose smirked and turned to face her. She instinctively took a pace back but only hit the hard mirrored wall of the lift. She was trapped. It was suddenly hard to breathe but she must not show weakness.
Impossibly attractive but terribly intimidating was her first thought as she watched him trace a strong thumb over her bottom lip. It was way too intimate and she slapped his hand away.
"Get the fuck off me," she told him boldly.
Ambrose chuckled, sharing a look with his teammates.
"You gonna take that Ambrose?" Seth laughed.
"Oh I think I'll find a way to pay her back," he smirked softly. Ambrose caged her in, placing a hand on each side of her head and loomed dangerously close.
Caitlin trembled, adrenaline flowing through her veins. She tugged at the hem of her dress trying to make it cover more of her body. Here, in this tiny space surrounded by these three imposing men, the dress felt obscenely short. Their gaze was intense and uncomfortable as three pairs of eyes, brown, silvery grey and ice blue, fell lecherously over her form. Dressing earlier that evening she was pleased with her appearance and choice of clothing. Going out was a big deal for her. She mostly felt nervous at parties. Struggling to make conversation. So, encouraged by her girlfriends that she looked stunning, wearing a figure-hugging number in bright red which clung to her curves in all the right places paired with black high heeled laboutins had raised her confidence. A statement dress to have fun in. Now the same outfit was like a beacon enticing danger and exposing her body far too easily to those who wanted to do her harm.
"Too late for modesty baby. If you belonged to me, you'd regret such a choice. That dress screams fuck me. It's attention seeking and lucky you." He paused, looking left and right at his teammates, "You've got the Shield's attention."
If you belonged to me? Did he really just say that. It thrilled her despite the fear also inspired. "No, I... It's just a dress, I didn't mean to..." She tailed off as Ambrose placed a finger on her lips again.
"Hush. You knew what you were doing when you picked it out. I like it. We like it, don't we boys?"
The other two murmured their assent. Seth chuckling like he did in the ring at his most heelish. His laugh wicked and taunting.
"She's got pretty lips Ambrose," Roman said, his voice like molten chocolate,
"Yep,"he agreed. "We'll put them to good use later."
"You fucking won't," she cried and shoved hard at her tormentor's chest. Like hitting brick wall, he barely moved an inch and just rolled his eyes.
Shit.
"Yes we fucking will you hot little bitch. Keep up with this attitude and I will show you how mean we can be."
Seth pulled her bag put of her hands.
"Hey," she protested. "Give me that back right now."
Ignoring her, he whistled as he found her phone. "Well looky here boys. We've got a Shield fan on our hands. I knew it!"
Caitlin's cheeks heated and looked away, anywhere as long as it wasn't on the three wrestlers who held her captive. Until tonight she adored them. Loving the way they strutted about causing havoc in and out of the ring. Being the object of their wrath was altogether a different story. She tried another tactic.
"Look, if this is about the champagne..."
Ambrose sighed in exaggeration. "It's true it's partly about that. No one says no to me darlin' and you'll learn that before the night is over,"
"You can believe that," Roman added.
"So tell us umm?" Seth asked.
"Caitlin," she just about managed to say while staring into Ambrose's blue eyes. They were almost hypnotic and she found that she could not tear her gaze away.
"Caitlin, baby. How come you sent that bottle back? Seth continued. He still had that mocking tone to his voice which made her want to slap his handsome face.
"It gets me really drunk and I hate being out of control. Mixing drinks is a bad idea."
"Do we believe her gentlemen?" Ambrose asked.
"No," said Roman. "The girl has a photo of the Shield as a screen-saver. If she had any sense, she'd be thankful we noticed her and accept the damn drink."
"Seth?" Dean asked.
"Nah, I don't buy it. I mean, you're not in control now baby are you. Let's face it, you're totally at our mercy." He leant in close chuckling lightly and dragged his knuckle down her cheek which burned with heat.
"Ok, ok, I just. I just didn't want you to think I was like those other girls. The ones in the booth with you. They were all slutty and I'm sorry if I offended you, really I am." She blurted it all out in one go, hoping it would appease them.
Ambrose's fingers drummed on his chest and he rolled his neck from side to side stepping away from her. Help! She'd seen him do that a thousand times before on TV. Usually when he was agitated and considering his next move. Now she could hear the crick of his bones and see the contours of his chest move under the slim fitting dress shirt. Surely this was not really happening? The scent of male cologne on warm skin filled the elevator. Roman leant in this time and placed his strong hands on the mirror, either side of her shoulders. Her senses started to reel. Things were only going to go one way at this rate and her body was beginning to assuage the fear they inspired and yearn for their touch instead.
"W..what are you going to do with me?" she whispered.
Ambrose smirked and tucked strand of silky hair behind her ear before wrapping a fistful in his hand. He lightly jerked her head back so she could not avoid getting lost his blue eyes again. "Anything we fucking want to, that's what."
"Please, no. Let me go..." she begged.
"I don't buy that either," Seth interjected. His rough, warm hand caressed the back of her thigh and her breathing quickened at its touch. The hand stroked leisurely up and down but frustratingly did not explore more intimate places. Her resulting moan was audible even though she tried to stifle it.
"See," he added, all the while still caressing her soft inner thigh. "Let me tell you what I think. Girl like you, has photos of us plastered all over her phone and doesn't want us to think that she has fantasied about this very moment from the first time she saw us on TV. Typical fangirl. I bet you've daydreamed about the Shield. Lots of different scenarios have drifted through that pretty head of yours. I bet Roman here was the protective one, always there to offer advice and comfort like a big brother. And you and I were like best buds, weren't we? Always laughing and joking, finishing each other sentences, getting into scrapes. Ha ha. But Dean, Dean was the one you wanted most of all thought you didn't want to admit it because he's dangerous. Real dangerous. Underneath all that innocence you like a bad boy. You want him to show you how good it feels to be bad."
How the fuck could he be so accurate, the smug bastard. Her face betrayed her emotions. She was moist and hot and wanted more.
"At night though, in bed is where your thoughts really go to town," Dean added, his voice heavy with lust. "Where you let go of your inhibitions and think about us. Think about Dean Ambrose fucking you senseless in a dark alley where no one can hear your screams or on your knees in front of Roman or having drunken sex with Seth. I can see right through you."
He nodded to Roman. The three were so in sync that they could communicate without speaking. It was no wonder they were such a good team in the ring. Her dress was strapless and Roman had both her wrists firmly held above her head now in one hand while the other traced her neckline, licking his lips as he did so before slowly pulling it down exposing her breasts.
"Christ they're gorgeous," he rumbled and brushed the tips of his fingers across their nub. "Your nipples are like rock baby." Caitlin whimpered in response.
"She's turned on. She wants it," Seth told him.
"She wants all of us to fuck her, the little tramp," Dean rasped. "But you want me most of all don't you?" He moved in now as Roman moved aside. "Answer me or you won't like the consequences."
Caitlin nodded, shamed but tingling with every touch of they gave her.
"I caught you looking at me all night. Drinking me in, whispering and giggling with your girlfriends. So I sent you the champagne and you threw it back in my face. Publicly. No one does that to Dean Ambrose baby." His voice dripped like honey but with an edge of aggression that could not be ignored.
She could see the situation she was in from all angles reflected in the mirrored elevator. Pinned to the wall, flushed, exposed and being subjected to their erotic whims. Those girls in their booth didn't have nothing on her at this moment in the slut stakes. If anything she was proving to be worse than them.
"I'm sorry Dean. I made a mistake. Please forgive me," she begged.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "Oh I might forgive you but that depends on a number of things. Depends how far you are willing to please me tonight. How submissive you can be. How much Shield you can take, eh boys."
Seth and Roman nodded their assent.
"Let go Caitlin," Roman told her. His voice was softer now. "Stop worrying about what others think of you, what we think of you. If it helps, we all think you are beautiful. Ambrose may be a little psycho about you right now and Seth always acts like a dick but women throw themselves at us. We had the pick of the club tonight but you interested us. We chose you, remember that or we wouldn't be here now, would we?"
"I guess not," she answered shyly.
"She's still not getting off the hook, Roman," said Dean warningly. He still held her trapped between the wall and his body.
"Be nice Ambrose, you're frightening her," he replied.
"And you're going soft Big Dog," he snapped back but he had an amused look in his eye. "She should be frightened of me which makes her smarter than she thinks."
At this point Caitlin observed that of the three men, despite being the instigator of her current predicament, Dean had hardly touched her. How she yearned for him to do so. She could almost see the cogs of his mind working out his next move now that his friend had called him out.
"Be nice," he pondered to himself. "OK." One second she was staring apprehensively into those blue eyes, the next her lips had been claimed by his. His full, pouty, kissable bottom lip was massaging hers tentatively. Caitlin nearly came right then when his teeth nipped and his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, demanding entry. It was true she'd thought about this particular scene a thousand times and now it was really happening.
"Oooh God," she moaned as his tongue found its mark.
Seth nudged Roman in shock and whispered. "Bro, I've seen Ambrose fuck plenty of girls but never seen him make out with one!"
"Something special about her. Never seen him so riled up about a broad," Roman replied in to Seth's ear.
Dean continued his delicious assault on her mouth and senses. His body was grinding against hers now, pushing her hard into the wall. He hooked her thigh up around him not allowing her to move away and she whimpered as she felt his hardness press near her centre. It was huge and he chuckled against her lips at her reaction.
"What's the matter? Too much for you to handle, huh." If she wanted to answer him, she couldn't as his tongue found her hot mouth again silencing any words. He pulled away once he'd sated himself.
"I need to fuck you right now in this elevator," he growled. "We all do and there's not a damn thing you can do about it but I'm gonna give you a choice, 'cause I'm being nice for once." He looked at Roman pointedly, who grinned.
His fingers had started to stroke her silky red panties, her dampness, already seeping through the flimsy material was completely apparent to him. Her body sang with heat and need.
"We can start this elevator and leave you on floor eleven. After that the only time you'll see us again is when you watch Raw and Smackdown... or you come with us to the Penthouse Suite. I'll warn you though, if you do choose option two, there will be no going back but it will be worth it I promise you." He chose that moment to slide two fingers into her heated centre leaving her crying out with desire. He knew exactly what he was doing.
The lights in the elevator flickered and went off and only the dim emergency lights were left to illuminate a portion of the space. There was silence. The Shield surrounded her, touching and caressing her body in the darkness, taking it in turns to kiss her mouth and obliterate any doubt she had about her choice. Each man holding their own attraction to her fevered mind. It was like being in the middle of one of their menacing promos, her own Shield promo with bells on!
A disembodied voice broke through the tension. It came from an intercom on the elevator panel. "Are you OK in there? Don't worry, help is on the way. We'll have you out of there in no time."
Seth broke into laughter. "Seems like we are all about to be rescued."