Protecting Our Virgin: A Reverse Harem Romance

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Protecting Our Virgin: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 8

by Frankie Love


  “It’s beautiful,” she says breathlessly. I hand her a bottle of water and she takes a long gulp. Then she passes it me and I do the same. I smile, thinking that we both need to stay hydrated for what’s going to come next.

  “So, what now?” she asks.

  I reach behind her and grab a rope I discovered when I came out here before.

  “Hold on and jump.”

  Her eyes widen. “You go first. I want to see how you do it.”

  I nod, dropping my backpack and pulling off my T-shirt, kicking off my shoes and my shorts. Then I grab the rope and swing, letting go at the center of a massive pool of ice cold water. The rope swings back to Chloe and I watch her lean over to catch it. She does. Damn, that girl doesn’t miss a damn beat.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “No time like the present. I need you in this water and I need you now.”

  She needs me too, even from this distance, I see the need in her eyes. She looks down at me, licking her perfect lips. Holding one hand onto the rope, she unbuttons her shorts with the other and lets them fall to the ground. Then in a swift decision, she takes a leap and soars through the sky before crashing into the water like a cannonball.

  When her head emerges, she screams in delight, laughter filling the tropical air. I swim over to her, pulling her to me. Her legs effortlessly wrap around my waist as we tread water.

  Her face is alight, joy filling her completely. I can imagine her on a roller coaster at Disneyland one day, all smiles and happy shock. I want to make her happy for as long as I can.

  Forever.

  “I’m falling for you, Chloe,” I tell her.

  She nods, running her hands through my tousled hair. Her breasts are falling out of her tiny suit, I untie it at the neck and fling it toward the shore. Her string bikini bottoms tie on both hips and I undo those too, throwing them aside. Chloe’s naked body is wrapped around mine, my hard cock pushing through my boxers, begging to fill her up.

  “I want you so badly,” I tell her. She nods, moving her hips against my belly as if wanting to feel my hardness closer to her pussy.

  “I want to taste your come,” she moans. “Like crazy.”

  Our mouths open and our tongues crash together, with her wrapped so tightly around me, I swear I’m seconds from creaming my underwear. This girl is doing wild things to me. Things I’ve never felt before.

  Things I need more of.

  “I need to taste you too,” I tell her. I carry her ashore and see a soft patch of grass. I set her down, taking in her completely bare, gorgeous pussy. It’s trimmed so nicely. Her massive tits bouncing as she walks, her hair’s wet, her skin’s wet, and that pussy of hers—I’m guessing it’s plenty wet too.

  “Oh, God, girl, you look so fucking perfect.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief. I strip to nothing, needing her to take my cock in her hands. In her mouth. I need her to stroke me, to suck me.

  I need more of Chloe.

  “I told you I was gonna leave your ass for later, but I need it now. I need that ass up in my face. Do you understand me, Chloe?”

  She nods, she understands me perfectly. And she is speechless, her nipples so hard, her body so piqued, so ready. She can’t move fast enough. She steps into my arms and I want to devour her body.

  Devour her completely.

  My cock wants her pussy so fucking bad, but I know that’s not fair. It’s not my turn or my time. So, I’m a good boy, and if I can’t press my cock to her pussy, I’m sure as hell planning on putting my mouth there.

  I lie down on my back and tell her to sit on my face.

  “On your face?” she asks as if not understanding. She looks down at me though, wanting to understand.

  “You heard me, baby, sit down on my face, facing my feet. Then lean forward and put your mouth to my cock, you know you want to suck me off.”

  She does as I ask, straddling me backward, and her perfect ass gets right up in my face. That pink, perfect pussy dripping wet, and I grab her waist and pull her down, not letting her out of my hold.

  She moans as I do, as my tongue licks her perfect slit up and down. Up and down. I’m going to lick her until she comes all over me, and then I’m gonna lick her some more.

  She knows what to do, this position leaves little to the imagination, and as I start devouring her sweet vanilla-scented pussy, she starts sucking me off like she was made to lick my cock. As if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole damn life.

  She moves her head up and down, up and down, taking as much of me as possible, and I move faster and faster over her throbbing clit, over her juicy cunt. I lick my girl nice and good. I lick her until she comes, until she squirts on my face, just like I imagined.

  I tongue fuck her until she’s screaming my name, until she’s grabbing hold of my thighs, stops her sucking, and instead, she begins fondling my balls. After all, she can’t speak and suck at the same time.

  “Oh, my God, Noah,” she whimpers. “You are so big and delicious. And I’m coming so hard.” She pushes my cock back in her mouth just letting it sit there nice and hard in her open throat.

  I keep looking her ass, loving the way I can hold her steady as she sits on me, her ass so curvy, her pussy so sweet.

  She keeps coming, but now she’s gotten a better hold of herself and can move her head up and down again.

  My cock throbs, my veiny thickness filling up her mouth in a way no other cock ever could.

  I’m so close to coming, so close to coming down her throat, and I want her to swallow my seed when I swallow her come. I want us to come together.

  We do. I come so hard, and she sucks down my come like a good little girl.

  And then she’s coming all over again, she’s coming so hard, each orgasm hitting harder, and just when she is about to crash, I push her back over the edge.

  This girl is not just coming. She’s coming apart. At the seams, she’s undone.

  She’s loose, unraveled, and that is fine by me.

  I have no problem putting my girl back together, one orgasm at a time.

  Chapter 16

  I fall into a deep sleep when we get back home. The guys are working on final edits of the videos they’ve been creating while in Jamaica and I take the time to curl up in my king-size bed in the guest room and fall asleep.

  I sleep so soundly. More soundly than I can ever remember resting. Maybe it’s because the waves are crashing in the distance, or maybe my body has never had the opportunity to relax like it is right now. Every inch of my skin has been loved on by the guys this week. It’s allowed my heart to open up in ways I didn’t believe was possible.

  I don’t think I ever realized how on edge I’ve been my entire life until I finally let my guard down.

  Now, I can relax because I’m not walking on eggshells, wondering when the next horrible thing is going to put my life into a tailspin.

  There’s no fear right now about getting good grades to keep my scholarship. Or about a foster mom changing her mind about having a teenager in the house. There’s no wondering if life is going to turn out okay. Because right now, life has turned out okay.

  More than okay.

  Somehow, I entered this fantasy. I’ve been given a life I in no way deserve, but somehow have been granted.

  Sleep comes easy for the first time in forever. I’m not scared of what might happen next, or when the other shoe will drop or when I will lose the glass slipper in this fairytale.

  Now? Now I just get to be happy. The slipper fits and I think I found a lifetime’s worth of Prince Charmings.

  Hours later, it’s dark outside but I’m awakened from my slumber. I open my eyes to see Ethan standing in the doorway.

  “Hey,” I smile, not expecting him. “Stalk much?” I tease, raising up on my elbows as I blink, adjusting my eyes to the darkness.

  “No,” he whispers. “I just couldn’t sleep, I was thinking about you. I wanted to make sure you are doing okay.”

  “You
woke me up to say that?” I scoff, not believing him for a minute.

  “You’re right, I just wanted to see you.”

  Without even thinking, I pull open the blanket I’m under, and invite him in. He’s fully dressed and so am I, but as he slips into the bed beside me, I pull in a sharp breath. Ethan is here, and he smells like sage and almond oil. He looks like a dark cloud, one that could either unleash a storm or offer a rain shower that might wash away all the pain from my past.

  The sky still dark, and it’s like whatever happens next will be a dream. Except, this is real.

  Or is it? I’m on my side, turned to face him, and as he faces me, his hand finds my cheek. His warm hand causes a surge of intensity to run from his fingers into my skin. There is something about this man that makes me believe I am not alone. In any of this. Noah told me about Ethan’s past earlier today, how hard it was, how alone he’d been as a boy. How he’s never felt safe either.

  I understand that, without even knowing all the details, I understand Ethan when I look into his eyes.

  “Sorry for freaking the fuck out the other night,” he says. “Do you forgive me?”

  I nod, too scared to speak, because for some reason that I don’t understand, at this moment I’m finding myself on the verge of tears.

  On the verge of becoming more attached than I should be to a man I hardly know.

  “You’re too good to me,” he whispers, his thumb pressing against my lips. I bite it instinctively. Lying next to him turns me into a darker version of myself, a version I always try to bury.

  The part he must be able to see.

  “I don’t trust myself with you,” he says. His words are not the ones I expected to hear.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, finding my voice, my hips moving, aching to be closer to him. He must sense it because he inches closer to me too.

  “I feel like if I was with you, completely naked, I would do crazy things to you, Chloe. The things I want to do to you are too filthy for someone as pure as you are.”

  My breath catches. I didn’t expect this from Ethan. I remember our kiss, I remember his long cock, but he’s also been reserved and distant and solemn and respectable.

  The words on his lips though, they promise dirtier ideas than I thought he was capable of.

  “Maybe I want you to do filthy things to me, Ethan. Maybe I want to see how far you can push us both.”

  He groans, pulling away from me. “We made a deal with the guys. I’m not going back on my word and I know you don’t want to either. That’s why I needed to come here and tell you...”

  “Tell me what?” I ask. I’m so wet already and my hands run up his chest looking for the hem of the shirt because I need to slide my fingers over him and feel his ladder of muscles, I need to reach under the waistband of his sweats and feel his hard, desperate cock.

  I close my eyes imagining the filthy ways he is thinking about our first time.

  How dirty is Ethan? Is he imagining blindfolds and whips? Tying me to a bedpost and spanking me like I am a dirty girl? I can imagine him taking out his pain and turning it into something pleasurable.

  I can imagine myself doing the same.

  It’s crazy because both of us are virgins. But there is also something inside the two of us. Something that is broken that we both intrinsically understand.

  I want to understand him more.

  “I’m not taking you out today,” he tells me, sending a cold chill down my spine. It is the exact opposite of what I want. “I can’t be alone with you, Chloe.”

  “But I trust you, Ethan.” I feel the rise and fall of his chest, his heart beating fast. I feel the tip of his cock pushing out of his sweatpants. I feel him roll to his back, his eyes on the ceiling. Pulling away from me.

  “Chloe, you are not the problem. The problem is that I don’t trust myself.”

  I feel tears in my eyes, a single drop rolling down my cheek.

  Then, with urgency, he rolls back to face me, and he kisses me.

  Hard.

  So, hard I hear myself whimper, I hear a groan escape his lips.

  There is an intensity there, when our mouths meet that I’ve never felt before, and I can only imagine the intensity we would feel if we gave one another all we had to give.

  He wipes away my tear and kisses my eyelids, my nose. My cheeks. My forehead. Then he pulls away as quickly as he came.

  “Don’t make me wait too long,” I tell him.

  “I won’t. I promise.” And then Ethan slips back into the dark hallway.

  My breath catches.

  A sob escapes, I want too much. I want everything and I want it now.

  I want all of these men. In my bed, with me, holding me each night.

  I need Mason to take care of me in ways I don’t know how to take care of myself and Enzo showering me with affection I’ve never been able to accept before and Noah making me laugh until my sides hurt and Ethan witnessing my pain and helping relieve a fraction of it at a time.

  I close my eyes, imagining them with me.

  In me.

  My pussy throbs. My need insistent.

  I pull down my shorts and I drop my knees, circling my clit as I think about Ethan’s hot breath, his hard cock, his dark words. As I think about all of them, about how safe they make me feel.

  About how the idea of leaving them terrifies me.

  I want them all to myself, and I want them soon.

  I come all over my fingers not holding back when I groan in a dramatic release.

  I don’t care who hears my cries of ecstasy.

  Scratch that.

  I do care.

  I want to wake the guys all up with my orgasm.

  I want them to lie awake imagining my pussy filled with their cock, my mouth, my ass, my hands, my tits. I want them to imagine the first time they take my virginity, and I want them to be ready for tomorrow.

  The dawn is just breaking across the sky, and the light wakes me. After Ethan left last night I tossed and turned for hours. So, at the first sign of daybreak, I let myself outside, more than ready to greet this day.

  I know exactly what I plan on happening.

  Wearing an oversized hoodie that I’m guessing is Mason’s, I walk down the beach looking at shells while letting the warm blue sea water crash over my toes.

  Birds fly overhead, chirping about their morning, and then in the distance, I see a pack of dolphins dancing on the waves.

  I’m so caught up in this reverie that when someone comes up behind me grabbing me at the waist, I don’t recognize that I’m in danger until it is too late.

  At first, I think it must be Noah tickling me. Or maybe Mason wanting me to know he’s making omelets.

  But no.

  No.

  No.

  “I’ve got you now, you little whore,” Jordan growls in my ear.

  “Let me go,” I cry as loudly as possible, hoping my screams are loud enough for the guys to hear me.

  But no one hears me. No one runs for me. They are all still asleep.

  The only person who has me is the one man I fear, the man I don’t trust.

  Jordan.

  I can’t break free of his hold. I push and try to free myself, but it’s too late. He pulls me away, dragging me from the beach.

  Away from the guys’ mansion.

  Away from the guys.

  Away from the only place I’ve ever felt truly safe in my life.

  Chapter 17

  I jump from my bed, my cock still hard. I swear I’ve had a permanent hard-on ever since I laid eyes on Chloe.

  My desire for her was at an all-time high last night, in her bed. I wanted so much more from her then.

  I want everything from her now.

  I wanted to pull down her panties, plunge my cock into her bare pussy and have my way with her. I want it so fucking badly it makes my cock ache. My heart aches too; I’ve never wanted anyone like this.

  But now I can’t think about that. Because I know
something is wrong.

  I swear to God, I heard cries on the beach. The sounds startled me awake. I jump, pulling on my sweats and run toward Chloe’s door.

  Her bed is empty. And I call for her, not receiving an answer. Running down the stairs into the kitchen, I see she’s not there either.

  I shout for her, pulling open the sliding glass door and screaming her name.

  Nothing. There’s nothing on the beach but a few birds darting into the ocean looking for breakfast.

  “Chloe!” I scream again. Where is she?

  The guys hear me, racing down the stairs to see what is happening. Mason, Noah, and Enzo enter the kitchen, eyes full of fear, hair ruffled, intensity pulsing around us.

  They know something is wrong. Just like I do.

  “It’s Chloe, she’s not here. I think I heard crying or screaming on the beach... We have to find her.”

  It’s like we all go into Rambo mode at once, pulling on shoes and heading out the door on a mission. There is only one goal in my mind—finding Chloe.

  I swear to God, if I get her in my arms—when I get her in my arms—I’ll never let her go again. I know the other guys feel the same way because their shoulders are tense, their biceps are flexed, ready for vengeance.

  No one takes Chloe without our permission.

  And we sure as hell have no intention of giving anyone that.

  We run down the beach, stopping at the location that Enzo and Mason found her.

  “Where the hell did she go?” Mason asks.

  “I bet it was Jordan,” I say. I have read tons of articles about him, and I’ve been receiving documents from the PI all week on what a creepy asshole he is. “He’s sketchy as fuck and wants to claim her as his own. He’s one of those guys who doesn’t want to lose and he thinks Chloe is a prize he deserves. Chloe would never have left without telling us.”

  It’s true. Besides, she has no money or wallet or identification. She’s been terrified of going anywhere out of our sight, so I don’t believe she would have left this early in the morning, alone.

 

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