Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

by Laura Greenwood

  Gods, I hadn’t thought about the queen knowing.

  My face suddenly went pale.

  The laundress pulled back and winked at me before she turned to leave.

  I tried not to weep as I prowled the halls of the castle. To keep myself from falling apart, my legs carried me fast and far out of the cold confines of what I knew as home. I ran, my skirt tangling around my ankles as I did so. I hiked it up to run quicker, more freely. I knew I had duties. I knew I had to tend to the queen, but for the life of me, I could not face her. Not now. Not after I’d had a taste of her son. It was wrong of me to have done what I did last night. I knew that. I’d been so lost in my own passions and wants, that I’d flipped a finger at our rules. The rules that separated me from them. I’d been blinded by my need for revenge, that I hadn’t thought things clearly enough.

  And soon, she would know the truth.

  I ran through tall fields, past the training yard where Princess Keanna and her guard, River McCoy were practicing feverishly. There was something between them, a love that was obviously palpable. In my heart of hearts, I knew that one day, they’d give themselves to each other.

  But it somehow seemed more acceptable. She was a princess and he was a guard. I was nothing but a maid. A servant that scrubbed his floors.

  And I’d slept with a prince.

  All because I’d wanted revenge. And I’d dug myself into a hole that I was sure I couldn’t get out of, because all I wanted to do was to sleep with him again. No matter how wrong that notion was, I still felt the burning need deep in my soul.

  So I ran, hoping that I could leave those feelings behind. I ran blindly, hardly paying attention to my surroundings. Maybe I should have, because the next step I took, had me tripping and falling, face first into the grass.

  I held my palms out, skidding against the dirt, and let out a soft cry. The fall was all it took for the tears to burst from my eyes by buckets. I cried, a sob ripping itself from my throat until it hurt. I couldn’t keep it in, no matter how badly I wanted to. I was falling in too deep. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to claim that I was only in this for revenge, but after last night, could I still claim that? I’d wanted him, and found my feelings colliding inside me. I liked Adahm, yes. I liked the way he felt, even as I hated the way he smiled. And Alastair...I liked everything about him. His gentleness, his soft voice. And I was still unsure how I felt about Aidan.

  “Maudey?”

  I snapped my attention up, to look at the person leaning against the massive oak tree. He was sitting in the grass, long legs stretched out before him leisurely. The source of my fall. Prince Alastair. I knew it was him because of the book he had sprawled across his stomach. And the soft, gentle expression he wore.

  I turned away quickly, wiping any trace of tears on the sleeve of my clothes. I didn’t want him to see me cry, thought it was probably too late.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his book aside on the grass. He crawled over to where I was and gently pulled me up so that I was on my knees with him. We were close to each other, clothes grazing. He tilted my chin up, wiped away traces of sticky tears with his thumb. “Did someone harm you?”

  I took in a shuddering breath. “No, nothing like that. I’m alright, really.”

  He didn’t believe me, but he also didn’t pry further. Instead, he palmed my cheek and made soft, gentle work of wiping away any trace of sorrow from my face. I fell victim to his touch. His fingers, of the three, were the softest. The fingers of a lover, not a fighter. The fingers of a reader, while his brother had the calloused rainbow tips of an artist, and Aidan… well I wasn’t sure yet.

  I pulled away slowly. It wouldn’t do good to fall into this. Not again. “Thank you.” I smiled weakly. “I should probably get back to my duties now…”

  “Wait!” He grabbed my arm, locking me in place. I shot him a questioning glance, when he was suddenly opening his mouth to say, “My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, at random from the truth vainly express'd; for I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”

  The words rolled off his tongue like a song that I never wanted to end. He said them like a secret caress, curling around my every nerve ending. Goosebumps rose along my arms, and I was glad for the long sleeves of my dress, if only so he couldn’t see the effect his poetic voice had on me.

  I licked my lips, for they were suddenly parched, and he followed the movements with his bright blue eyes. “What does that mean?” I couldn’t keep the hoarseness from my voice.

  His smile was breathtaking. “It’s a very, very old poem. Shakespeare. A poem of unrequited love.”

  Love. The word seemed to hang between us, seemed to imply something I shouldn’t desire...but I did. Unrequited love indeed. But I could not. I could not hop from one brother to the next...no matter how strongly I felt for them both. No matter that one’s hands drove me to the edge of insanity while this one’s words tore inside my heart to squeeze and never let go.

  “Well, it’s very lovely.” I started to get up. I really did have so much to do. I couldn’t hide from the queen any longer. Alastair stopped me, gripping at the hem of my dress to hold me in place. I froze, looked down at him. A sudden, nervous thrill went through me at the sight. A prince down on his knees before a servant, holding me in place as if he was afraid I might flee. “I have to go…” But my voice was weak, and beneath my skirts, my knees were quaking.

  “It doesn’t have to be unrequited…”

  His words tore at my chest. I couldn’t. Couldn’t. Not when I’d been with his brother. It was no longer possible. “Alastair…” I whispered. His eyes lit up with happiness, though his lips turned down.

  “I’m not Alastair,” he said. “I’m Adahm.”

  It was then that my heart broke in two. Still. They were still putting me in their silly little game, as if I couldn’t tell them apart. As if I were so stupid as to not realize… What did they have to gain with this? Was it to get in my bed? To share me between the three? My heart, in an instant, repaired itself from the bottom up, and the heartache was replaced with rage. All guilt washed away. They wanted to play and pretend? I could too.

  I tried to take a step back, but he pulled me close by the skirts until my stomach bumped his nose. The minimal contact sent a nervous thrill through me and had me freezing in place. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered against the material. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my belly button. I could feel his heat through my dress. My knees quaked at the sensations. No. No, this couldn’t happen. I reached down, pressing my palms on his shoulders. To push him away? Or to keep my balance? I wasn’t sure myself. I wasn’t sure what I wanted until his hands caressed my sides, smoothing down to the hem of my dress. he flicked the material aside, so that his palms encircled my ankles beneath the tent of my skirts.

  Slowly, his hands went up my skin, and I trembled. He took his time, fingers pausing every so often to explore the backs of my knees, the insides of my thighs. Like he was drawing out the anticipation by going slowly. As if he had all the time in the world. As if foreplay meant everything to him.

  He treated my skin like he would the fragile pages of a book. And I stood there, and I let him. We didn’t tear our eyes from each other. His piercing, blue depths were heavy on me, studying my every reaction. Like he refused to miss even a second of it.

  And then his fingers grazed along the edges of my underwear and I jumped. He gripped me strongly, holding me in place. When I didn’t move again, he resumed. His fingers teased the bottom edges of the plain cotton and went higher to the waistband. He hooked his fingers inside and slowly pulled them down. I relished in the feel of the material scraping against my hips, my thighs.

  “Let me love you, Maudey.”

  My head spun. Let me make love to you, I was sure he’d meant that. Before I could correct him, he was flipping up my skirts and disappearing beneath them. I gasped, leaning forward. A quick look around told me
that we were currently alone in our open space. But that could change at any moment.

  “Your Majesty,” I warned, then gasped when I felt his fingers tease the sensitive skin along the inside of my thighs. Gods above, that felt so good. And the feeling got even better as his nails grazed and slipped down the line between my folds. I leaned forward, gripping at his back for support. “Majesty,” I gasped. He didn’t say a word, instead answering with actions and adept fingers that stroked and teased, pressing against my clit and making me stifle back a scream. Then when I felt the hot rasp of his tongue against my center, I cried out, hips bucking against his mouth.

  He held me steady with his palms on my hips. His nails dug deep into the skin at my ass as his tongue licked down my seam, teasing my clit before plunging into me. His tongue dove in and out in torturous movements that made my thighs ache and threatened my knees to give out from under me. He sucked me off, teeth scraping against my clit and tugging. I gasped, writhed against him. His fingers slipped further behind me, kneading my ass in his hands, pulling and tugging, and when his fingers slipped inside, I doubled over and screamed as I fell into the chasm of pleasure.

  Even as I fell, his tongue was still there, teasing and sucking me, though I was still so sensitive, I felt a sob rise to my throat. He didn’t stop, and I felt weaker and weaker against him, so weak I doubled over, grabbed his back and clawed.

  “Please,” I gasped. “Please!”

  He pulled away, tossed aside my skirts to reveal his face again. There was a grin, not a satisfied, arrogant one, but a humble smile. His arms wrapped around my hips and he lifted me. I was glad for it, sure I couldn’t stand another moment. And then he was walking me towards the oak he’d been leaning against moments before.

  “Majesty,” I gasped. “Someone could come and see us.”

  “Don’t fret, my beauty.” He pressed a kiss to my chin as he leaned my body up against the tree. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pinned between him and the trunk. “Hold tight.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and he let one hand go to move between us. There was the sound of a zipper sliding down and then I felt the heat of his length pressing up against my thigh. I groaned as his tip touched my entrance, and wriggled so I was nestled comfortably on him. And when he slipped inside, all I could do was sigh out my pleasure.

  “That feels...aah...” The words left me as he started to move, hips thrusting up to slam in and out. My back scraped up the rough back, but I relished in the pain behind me in contrast to the gentle beast in front of me.

  I arched my throat, giving him easier access to spread open mouthed kisses across my neck. He kissed and nipped my earlobe, heavy breathing and pleasured grunts echoing in my ears. I rose higher with him, tried to move against him to match his pace, but I felt out of breath. I felt overwhelmed. And then I was screaming as a wave washed over me, quicker and more intense than the first, and Alastair soon followed me down.

  The sensations slowly faded, but he was still hard inside me. Slowly, he pulled out and I felt an emptiness inside me I hadn’t expected, not just physically, but in my heart as well.

  And I knew then that I was doomed to love the trickster beasts.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alastair

  I helped straighten her clothes and walked her back to the castle. A silence descended over us that I tried to interpret, but for the life of me could not. She’d gotten quiet, and I’d tried reading regret in the emotions of her silence. Either I forced myself to ignore it, or she was very good at hiding it.

  I didn’t regret what we’d done. How could I, when I felt so strongly for her? I knew Adahm and Aidan had feelings for her too, and even then, I couldn’t bring myself to want to let her go. The whole bet that Aidan wanted to partake in was ridiculous. We couldn’t possibly trick her into sharing the three of us for sport…

  So why, I thought with sudden guilt, had I told her my name was Adahm?

  It had been so wrong to go along with Aidan’s maddening idea, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to betray my brothers, and the trust we’d long built. Still, a part of me felt a sense of guilt at the lie, at the enormous treachery we were committing. Had she really thought me Adahm? And I’d betrayed her by pretending to be him. Did she truly love him? Did she love me because she thought I was Adahm? Or did she love Adahm because she thought he was me?

  Gods above, what was I doing?

  I had to tell her the truth. Even if she hated me for it forever.

  “Maudey, I—”

  “You did better than last night.” she interrupted, her voice bright and chipper.

  I looked at her questioningly. “Excuse me?”

  She turned to look at me with that radiant smile of hers. Cheerfully, she began patting my shoulder. “After last night’s disaster, I thought you wouldn’t want to even try again.”

  What in gods’ names was she talking about? “Um…”

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Adahm. I’m sure a lot of men suffer from flacid penis. I doubt many princes do, but there’s hope for you yet.”

  Flacid— “Wait, what?”

  She winked at me before skipping ahead. She stopped and turned halfway. “Don’t worry,” she called out. “I won’t tell anyone you cried.” She turned around and left.

  And all I could do was stare after her like a dumbass. A speechless, immobile dumbass. Flacid dick. The words seemed to hang over me and taunt me.

  Gods fucking damn it.

  One of my brothers had been with her last night, and he had fucking limp dick. And now, gods above, she thought I was him. A limp dick who cried in front of women.

  Fuck.

  I should have just told her the truth.

  Maude

  There was something particularly cruel about the game I was playing. But they were just as cruel as me. Granted, I doubted they’d ever lied about limp dick. In truth, Adahm’s dick had been quite wonderful. But if they still planned on tricking me and playing this game, then I would too, and I’d be a thousand times crueler.

  I left Alastair’s side with all sadness gone and new satisfaction in my steps. It felt good to have the tables turn. I tried not to feel guilty, when it had been obvious that he’d been planning on telling me the truth. I commended him for wanting to be honest, but he shouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. I’d live with my decision, with my need for vengeance. I’d turn the game on all of them, make them question each other in ways they’d probably never done before. Who cared if I had a little fun on the way? Even if they were princes, even if we had no future together, I would take what I wanted from them…

  ...and I wouldn’t feel guilty about it.

  Alastair

  Limp dick.

  Gods on a cracker.

  I looked back and forth from Aidan to Adahm. One of my brothers had limp dick. The urge to mention it was on the edge of my tongue, but that seemed too personal a detail, even for us. But fuck, I couldn’t get it out of my head.

  I cleared my throat. “So…” They didn’t even look up from their current tasks. Adahm was scribbling in bold strokes on a long strip of paper. Aidan was tuning his ukelele. “Did any of you go see Maudey last night?”

  Aidan strummed a tuned. “Trying to beat us to the prize, brother?”

  I rolled my eyes. If only he knew that I’d already been with her… “Just wondering…”

  Adahm paused mid stroke of his charcoal and looked up at me. He shifted slightly in his seat before he began drawing again.

  Fuck. Adahm had limp dick.

  Fuck. Fuck. Why’d I even ask? Now there was an image in my mind that I’d never be getting out. Poor Maudey. He’d tried and failed to pleasure her, and then had cried afterwards. I wondered if I should help him? Give him advice? I shook those thoughts off. Why would I do that? If he was invalid, that just meant I could have her to myself…

  I cleared my throat. “What you working on?” I didn’t usually take much interest in Adahm’s art. Just like they didn’t take an i
nterest in my books or in Aidan’s music. Adahm looked at me suspiciously, pressed the paper to his chest to avoid my looking at it.

  “Nothing,” he answered too quickly.

  It made me all the more curious, but I didn’t press.

  We all had our dirty little secrets, after all.

  Maude

  I faced the Queen bravely, with my head held high as I walked into her chambers that morning. She sat before her vanity table, combing out her long, brown hair. I immediately went to my duties, taking the brush gently from her hands and combing it myself. There was a sort of calming therapy in brushing out someone’s hair. It helped my frazzled nerves.

  The whole time I worked, she didn’t say a thing. Not until I began separating the strands and began moving them around into a long delicate braid. “I heard you had an interesting night, Maude.” Her soft brown eyes looked at me through the reflection in the mirror. I tried not to stare too long, instead lowering my gaze to watch my fingers work. Her voice wasn’t cold, exactly. It was more calculated, cautious. She frightened me when she used that voice.

  “An interesting night, Majesty?” My fingers trembled as I neared the end of the braid.

  “That’s what the talk about the castle is saying.”

  “I try not to pay attention to the rumors, your Majesty.” I tied the end of the braid together and stepped back. As soon as I did, the Queen brought the braid over her shoulder, smoothing it out. She observed it for a long while before she turned in her cushioned chair.

  “Fetch me my correspondence. Over by the bed, if you please.”

  Hiding my relief, I nodded and made my way over to where she’d indicated. There was a stack of papers there, the top letter opened, revealing short, bold scripture. The words caught my attention.