Three Kinds of Lost: A Reverse Harem Academy Romance (The True and the Crown Book 3)

by May Dawson

  When I first came here, I couldn’t help thinking about how my father once walked these halls.

  But my mother did too.

  And I belong here, in the land of magic, even if the rest of Avalon isn’t quite sold on the idea.

  Chapter 5

  I kiss Cax good night when we reach his floor and then go on with Airren to the top floor. “I’m going to need a new dress for the ball. Stelly will be thrilled.”

  Something mischievous flashes across Airren’s face. “Who needs to shop when you have magic?”

  I bite my lip. I don’t have magic at all. But Airren doesn’t seem to notice because he’s drawing me behind him to his room. Once we’re inside the neat, spartan, book-filled space, he closes the door.

  “I can make you quite the dress,” he promises me.

  I quirk an eyebrow in response. “But Cax is the one with the keen fashion sense.”

  Airren glances down at his button-down shirt, which is rolled back to expose his corded forearms, and fitted slacks. His clothes certainly do fit him nicely.

  “You know what I mean.” Feeling as if my teasing has backfired, even though Airren doesn’t seem hurt, I give up. “Fine. Make me a dress. I’ll do my best Cinderella imitation.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

  “She’s dirtside’s version of the tower princess,” I tell him. The fairy tales don’t change much, even between realms.

  His hands span my hips teasingly. “Hmm, it’s hard for me to measure when you’re wearing all those clothes.”

  “All these clothes?” I touch the collar of my sweater. “For some reason, Airren, I question just how forthright you are.”

  And that’s not just about the clothes.

  And yet, when I’m this close to him, admiring the way his crisp shirt is shaped to that powerful chest and the narrow taper of his waist, breathing in the spicy scent of his aftershave, I’m willing to push aside my questions for just a little while.

  He makes me happy, and that makes me stupid, and knowing that doesn’t change anything. First love is a wild, untamed thing.

  My lips part in surprise at the realization. I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with him, completely by accident.

  “Perhaps I do have an agenda,” he confesses, his lips brushing against my cheek. “I’ve been longing to have you to myself all day.”

  “I thought you boys said you were good at sharing.” I wrap my hands around his powerful shoulders. He’s no boy, that’s for sure, no matter what I say when I’m teasing.

  “Maybe I have a selfish side.” His hands sweep up my side, drawing my sweater up, and his fingers brush against the bare skin underneath. “I’m happy to share your affection, but I want more than my fair allotment of your time.”

  I raise my arms so he can pull the sweater over my head. The rough material tugs at my hair, leaving it a staticky mess. He tosses the sweater onto the foot of the bed, then runs his rough palms over my hair gently, tucking it back behind my ears. His deep blue eyes gaze into mine, and I take in the hard-angled planes of his cheekbones, the big clean-shaven jaw. He’s gorgeous, and in some tiny part, at least, he’s mine.

  His thumbs slide under the waistband of my jeans. “What’s your favorite color?”

  No one’s asked my favorite color since I was a child. A memory unfurls in my mind from those days: running through fields of red and yellow flowers that grew so tall and wild that I could hide in them from my friends. I giggled as I knelt in the high green grasses, out of sight. The fragrant scent of the flowers and the hot earth filled my nose, and I cupped the feathery-soft head of the flowers to rub the petals against my cheek. The red ones. I always chose the red ones.

  “I’m not particular,” I say.

  The faint lines at the corners of his eyes deepen. “You’re allowed to have preferences, Tera. Especially with me.”

  It’s true that for a long time, no one’s been particularly interested in what I want or don’t. But that memory—is that from school or from home? I can’t remember anymore; I can’t remember the faces of the friends that were my whole world at the time—feels too precious and too small to share all at one time. What else do I like?

  “I like jewel tones,” I say. “Emeralds, sapphires. I like some glitter and shimmer.”

  “Me too,” Airren says, so mock-seriously that it makes me smile. His eyebrows lift. “Oh, right, I mean—I like them on you. I don’t have a secret affinity for glitter or anything.”

  “Of course not.”

  He teases the jeans down my hips. When he kneels in front of me, I lean my weight on his shoulders so I can step out. He undresses me like I’m a goddess he loves to worship.

  As he rises, he catches my breast in one hand, and I’m smiling when his lips meet mine. Maybe I’ve misunderstood just how he worships. His palm caresses my ass, sending sparks of lust coursing through my veins.

  When Airren kisses me, the world falls away. I run my fingers across the hard planes of his abs and reach for his belt, but he takes a step away.

  “We have serious business to attend to,” he teases me.

  When his hand rises again, there’s a soft fluttering sound; a sheet of shimmering emerald magic ripples from his fingers.

  He wraps it around me, the magic warm and soft, lusher than any fabric could be, and tugs it around my shoulders to close at my throat. Its deep, intense color is supernatural. He smooths it over my breasts—and my nipples tighten in hungry response—then over my waist. Everywhere his palms wander, the fabric conforms to my curves.

  When I look down, the bodice of the dress is fitted to my shoulders, chest, and waist, but falls away in waves around my legs.

  “Too much fabric,” he says, glancing over me with a critical eye.

  “You would think so.”

  He flashes me a devilish grin before he runs his fingers across the upper swell of my breast, and all the fabric above that line vanishes, leaving behind a sweetheart neckline. “It needs something more.”

  “A promise that the rest of my gown won’t dematerialize in the middle of a party?” I press my fingers over the neckline as if to make sure it doesn’t disappear, but I can’t help laughing. There’s something so magical about this.

  His fingertips glow with magic as he runs his fingers over the swell of my breasts again. When he drops his hand to one side, tiny diamonds shimmer across the top of my dress, with one larger broach at the curve between my breasts.

  “Will it really last?” I ask, pressing my fingers over the cold, hard broach at the center of the fabric. It feels so real even though he’s just conjured it from the air.

  “It will really last,” he promises me, and his fingertips glide over my spine. A row of tiny buttons blooms at his touch and then immediately slip loose of the fabric. Cool air brushes over my skin. “You can take it off, bring it with you to the ball, wear it again and again…”

  “You just wanted to show me it could be taken off,” I say. “Completely innocent.”

  “Of course. Just for demonstration purposes.” His warm hand settles at the small of my back, against my bare skin.

  I let the dress fall away from me as I turn into his arms, lifting my head to his. He wraps his arms around my waist as his lips meet mine. His kiss is soft, tender, but his arm against my lower back holds me tight enough to feel the tell-tale bulge of his cock through his trousers.

  “I believe our business is done,” I say, and reach for his belt again. This time, he holds still, and my fingers deftly undo his buckle. I draw the leather out into my hand, then toss it onto the bed alongside my sweater.

  This man lights my world up with magic, and as his fingertips trail down my bare spine to the curve of my ass, his touch lights me up with longing.

  “I believe so,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low and sexy.

  I unbutton his shirt as he watches me. His eyes glint with what seems like a mix of amusement and lust.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask
him in a whisper as I push his shirt down, exposing broad shoulders hugged by his white t-shirt. His button-down shirt hangs up on his broad biceps, and he pulls it away impatiently, tossing it over his shoulder. Then he draws his t-shirt over his head, exposing the rune tattoos and scars that cover his tanned pecs and biceps.

  His lips tilt up. “I’m not thinking much of anything right now, T. More feeling.”

  Oh, I know all about that.

  I think he’s going to drop it because Airren’s not one to talk about his feelings.

  Then slowly, reluctantly, he admits, “I’m older than you, more experienced, and I shouldn’t be so…” he shakes his head, then makes the decision to go on. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else, T.”

  His voice is low and rough, and I don’t doubt him for a second. It’s one of only a handful of times I’ve ever seen Airren clumsy.

  And I make him feel that way.

  Warmth floods my chest.

  But all I say lightly is, “Must be all that dark magic I’ve got.”

  Some people think I’ve used a spell to bring Airren, Mycroft and Cax under my spell. They don’t know I’m too weak to do any such thing.

  “Must be,” he says before he lowers his head. His hair brushes against my throat before his lips graze the tops of my breasts. I draw in a quick, sharp breath at the feel of his mouth against my breast.

  My worries about how the rest of Avalon sees me fall away when his tongue circles my nipple. I run my hands up the hard lines of his abs and pecs to his shoulders. As his tongue flicks against my nipple, my fingertips curl deep into his muscle. My breath is suddenly ragged.

  I press my palm against his chest and push him. He lets himself fall backward onto the bed, landing with a bounce. He tucks one arm under his head, and his lips curl up in a smile as he beckons me toward him.

  I straddle him, my knees to either side of his hips. He taps one finger against his lips, a silent demand, and I lean forward to kiss him. His hand slides across the back of my neck and into my hair, tangling there, as our lips meet again and again. His cock presses against my inner thigh.

  He breaks away, his thumb stroking over my nipple until heat flares into my center. He palms my breast, hefting its weight in his hand. “You’d think you didn’t like this, from the way you’re pushing me around.”

  I love his mouth on my breast, and he knows it. “As if I could push you anywhere you didn’t want to go.”

  His eyes crinkle at the corners as he gazes up at me. “You’re my queen and you know it.”

  I can’t help but smile at his sweet, ridiculous words. He catches my jaw in one hand, his thumb against the dimple in the corner of my mouth.

  “There it is,” he murmurs, his voice full of truth. “I love that smile.”

  My lips part, but before I can figure out what to say, he raises his head to kiss my décolletage. He squeezes my breast gently before he draws my nipple into his mouth.

  I press my hand against his on my jaw, wanting him close to me in every way, as my eyelashes drift shut. Every time he traces his tongue around my nipple, it sends a ripple of lust through my body. I press down harder against the swell of his cock. He groans in response, and the sound vibrates my nipple. His mouth works harder against my nipple, his tongue slipping over its curves until my legs begin to tremble with lust.

  “No fair,” I murmur, stroking my hand between my thighs to take his cock in my hand. “We’re supposed to go together.”

  His tongue flicks over my nipple one more time, then, as I gasp, he leans back into the pillows. He looks up at me with self-satisfaction at my reaction written across his face. “Oh, are those the rules?”

  “Yes, they are.” I move back, straddling his knees, and try to tug his trousers down. He rolls his hips up in one easy, sensual movement that reminds me of how athletic he is, and I pull the pants away. His cock bobs up, long and hard. When I take it firmly in my hand, his breath gives.

  As I look along his hard-edged abs and pecs to see his expectant, curious face, I can feel mischief transform my smile. I want to make him feel as eager and wanting as I do right now.

  With reckless abandon, I lick up and down his shaft, only to draw him into my mouth at the top. As I fall into a rhythm, his fingers scrape over the sheets and then gather them in a fistful, drawing the cotton tight. I smile around him, and he notices, reaching out to tousle my hair affectionately.

  “Stop, T,” he says, his breath ragged. “I’m going to come, otherwise, and you just said…”

  My tongue flicks the skin at the head of his cock, and he grits his teeth. “I have to follow my own rules?” I ask archly.

  “You do,” he says firmly, sitting up enough to catch my hip in one hand.

  He draws me up toward him, and I go with him. As I straddle his cock again, this time naked, the two of us exchange heated kisses. My lips part, welcoming him in. His tongue slips against mine effortlessly, and it leaves me longing for his cock to thrust into me as smoothly as his tongue.

  I press the head of his cock into the heat between my thighs. He slides easily against my hot, wet desire as I draw him in circles around my clit. The sensation is almost too much to bear when I’m already so hot for him, and from the way he bites his lower lip, he feels it too.

  “Damn it,” he mutters, his desire overwhelming him. I grin as he wraps his arm around my waist and holds me against his body as he rolls over, flipping our positions so that suddenly he’s on top. “You’re a tease, Tera Kate.”

  “You like it.”

  “You’re not wrong.” His lips graze my throat, and his smooth-shaven cheek presses against mine. I breathe in the faint menthol scent of his aftershave.

  His cock brushes against my center, and then a vibration warms my clit, almost making me jump out of my skin with desire. My back arches, and I catch his shoulders with my arm as my breasts push up against his pecs.

  “I’ve got my own tricks,” he murmurs, pressing his now-vibrating cock against my clit as I squirm with desire.

  “You’re just using your magic recklessly today, aren’t you?” My voice is soft and ragged, no matter how teasing I’m trying to be.

  “Not recklessly.” Back in control, where he’s comfortable, he kisses my shoulder, my breasts, while his cock vibrates away between my thighs until my toes curl. “I want to make you happy.”

  “You do,” I promise him.

  His grin is a quick, genuine flash at that. He rewards me by finally sliding inside me. When he brushes my g-spot, the heated vibrations make my legs weak. I bite down on my lower lip, tossing my head back as I try to stay in control of my trembling limbs.

  But he’s merciless. The vibrations, the heat, sweep through my suddenly floating body, making me feel as if I’m coming wonderfully, blessedly undone. The rest of the world falls away, leaving nothing but his powerful body braced over mine, his biceps to either side of my head, his lips against my throat, his cock buried deep inside me. My orgasm sweeps over me, hard and fast, my toes curling against the sheets.

  When I call his name, he breaths out a sigh of relief as he comes too. He lets himself fall to one side then, his cock still a heavy weight against my thigh, as he wraps me in his arms.

  He pushes damp hair back from my face before he presses a kiss to my temple. “You never told me if you liked the dress or not.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” I say. “Now if only I could trust you not to make it disappear again.”

  Those deep blue eyes cloud even though I was only teasing, He runs his thumb across the curve of my cheek. “You can count on me whenever it matters, Tera.”

  “I know,” I say. I have to force the rest of the thought out. “But would you really be fine with it? If our situations were reversed? If you had to depend on me?”

  I’m not talking about the dress anymore.

  “Oh, Tera.”

  I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead his forehead meets mine, his eyes closing briefly so that his dark lashes
rest in the hollows above his chiseled cheekbones.

  He asks, “Don’t you know I already do?”

  Chapter 6

  That night, I go back to my room because Penny likes me there when she sleeps. In the darkness of my bedroom, Stelly is a still shape, softly snoring, under her fluffy, frilly duvets. There’s a blanket folded on the radiator, and I think Penny is asleep, but she looks up as I cross to check on her. Bright gold eyes meet mine; her eyes glow in the darkness. I lift her against my chest, and feel how sleep-warmed her belly is before she curls against me. She pushes her head underneath my chin, making herself comfortable.

  I collapse into my bed, and before I can even pull up the blankets, Penny falls asleep immediately, with her furry head on my chest.

  When I wake up in the middle of the night, as I always do, I stroke the soft, red fur between her ears. She sighs in her sleep, wriggling up higher so her head is on my shoulder. The soft exhales of her breath puff against my cheek. Her dragon’s breath is surprisingly sweet.

  She’s still not much bigger than a cat, gentle and cozy and comforting—even though my arm is starting to fall asleep. I wriggle carefully out from underneath her and turn over, and the next thing I know, her head rests on my hip instead. I drift in and out of sleep, finally falling into heavy sleep again as early morning breaks.

  “Tera.” It’s my mother’s warm, gentle voice.

  I startle awake and jerk to sit up, my heart racing. My bed faces toward the windows which look out to the stone balcony and the rumble of the tide rolling into the beach beyond. My childhood bedroom.

  My hand glides over the smooth pink-and-gold quilt. No dragon. I’m alone here.

  “Tera.” When my mother sits on the side of the bed, the mattress dips with her weight, which makes me lean toward her.

  No, not alone.

  In response, she puts her arm around my shoulders. Tears prickle my eyes before I even register why I’m so sad suddenly. Her scent of honeysuckle and creamy lotion washes over me, a scent I’d forgotten until just now. This feels so real.