Charming Devils: A Bully/Revenge Reverse Harem Romance

by Katie May

  As if he’s mine.

  As if he’s always been mine.

  He doesn’t simply dip his toe in; he jumps off the edge and straight into the deep end. It’s not a kiss, but an explosion. His tongue enters my mouth without remorse, taking, taking, and taking. And I give every last bit back to him.

  His taste explodes in my mouth as he begins to rock against me, his cock leaving a damp trail across my stomach.

  “Princess, I want you,” he whispers against my lips as I twist my head, granting him access to my neck. “Is this…?”

  I grab his cock, rubbing my thumb over the pre-cum leaking from his tip, and then line it up with my entrance. I don’t know for sure what this means, what any of this means, but I do know that I want to feel him. I want the rigid planes of his muscular chest pressed against mine. I want to feel him inside of me, our bodies joined in the closest way two people can be.

  I dig my heels into his ass as he inches inside of me, allowing me a few seconds to adjust to his size.

  “Is this okay?” he whispers again, planting a tender kiss to the corner of my lips and then my nose.

  “Perfect,” I assure him, arching my hips off the bed. He begins to rock inside of me, each thrust of his hips sending sparks shooting through my bloodstream.

  “I want you, princess. All of you. The perfect arch of your back as you spasm around my cock. Your cries of passion. That silly, half smile you give when you’re around people you trust. The glimmer in your eye when you’re up to no good. Your love,” he whispers hoarsely as he pounds into me, slowing his hips to wait for my answer. But I don’t know what to say to him, how to respond, so instead, I lean forward and lick the corner of his mouth.

  “I want you to make me come,” I whisper. Glazed eyes stare back at me, his wet hair tousled and framing an expressive face. He’s so handsome that it physically hurts me.

  Mine, a possessive voice bellows in my head. It’s a word on my lips, on my soul, tattooed over my heart.

  My plea appears to be his undoing. He grips my wet hair, wrapping it around his fist, and tilts my head slightly to the side to reveal the juncture between my neck and shoulder. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, biting down just hard enough to mark me.

  His cock continues to thrust in and out of me as his teeth nibble on my skin. His large, rough hands, products of years on the football field, cup my breasts, his thumbs flicking my sensitive nipples.

  I dig my heels even further into his chiseled ass as I climb higher and higher. I can only manage to grip his shoulders and hang on for dear life. When his fingers begin to pluck at my clit, I fucking shatter, my eyes unable to remain open as I fall head over heels for this man.

  His cock jerks inside of my pussy as he ruthlessly pounds me into the bed. And when he comes, it’s with my name on his lips, roared like a song. A prayer. A plea.

  One thought percolates in my head, churning faster than the rapids of the Grand River.

  What did I just do?

  I fall asleep in Karsyn’s arms, feeling happy and sated. His clove scent surrounds me, providing me a strange sense of comfort and security. I feel safe in his arms, as if the world can’t hurt me when I’m with him.

  I don’t know how long I sleep, but when I come to, it’s to see a pair of hazel eyes—more gold than green in the waning sunlight—staring down at me tenderly.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” he whispers as he brushes a strand of my white-blonde hair behind my ear. I’m sure it’s tangled to high heavens, considering the fact I didn’t brush it after my shower. “Do you know that you snore?”

  “I do not, Alder!” I protest, shoving at his chest to push away, but his arms only tighten around me. And to be completely honest, I’m not sure I want to break free.

  “Do too. I think thou doth protest too much.”

  “Suck it.” I stick my tongue out at him, but he captures it between his teeth, tugging on it gently.

  “Is that an offer?” he asks with a wicked smirk, bringing his lips to the valley between my breasts and giving me a raspberry.

  “You’re such a fucking dork.” I attempt to pull his head back up, but he begins planting teasing kisses along the arch of first one breast and then the next. His finger idly traces around my nipple.

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you have the most perfect tits?” His breath whispers against my skin, and I shiver, my nipples pebbling even further. He chastely kisses the beaded tip of my right breast, before freezing. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want anyone seeing or talking about your tits but me.” There’s a surge of possessiveness in his voice, and it causes my blood to sizzle. But his words quell the flames inside of my core, the smile disappearing from my face. Karsyn freezes, his lips on my areola, but allows me to gather my thoughts.

  “Karsyn, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  He sits up completely, hovering over me with worry etched onto his face.

  “Was this a mistake?” he asks, voice aghast.

  “No!” I rush to reassure him. “I mean, I don’t know.” I rub both of my hands down my cheeks. “I…I had sex with Elias.” There. Better to rip the bandage off than force them both to suffer. “Last night.”

  The sheer reality of what I just did drowns me under a twenty-foot wave. How can I have sex with two different men in a span of a day? Both of them my tormentors? Does this make me a slut? All of their words from five years ago come rushing back to me, and I feel sick to my stomach.

  “Hey.” Karsyn throws his body over mine, holding himself on his elbows so he can peer down at me. I can feel the tears in my eyes and on my cheeks, but I don’t lift a hand to brush them away. “I can see where your mind is going, and I’m gonna need you to fucking stop.”

  “Karsyn…”

  “Shut the fuck up, Simone, and listen.” He kisses me savagely on the lips before pulling back and capturing both of my wrists. “It’s okay. I’m not mad that you had sex with Elias.” He grimaces slightly, as if saying those words leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he continues on doggedly. “It’s what we deserve, after all. What I deserve.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “I want you all to myself.” He lowers his face to my neck and begins to nuzzle against the skin there. “I want you more than I ever wanted or needed anything in my life. But I know I need to pay for my sins, and maybe this is the way. Maybe I can’t be selfish with you.”

  I tug on his hair until he’s forced to look at me, searching his expressive hazel eyes for the truth I can hear in his words. “You’re giving me up?” Why does that thought gut me? Why does it leave me feeling hollow and empty, like I’m made of nothing but skin and bones?

  “Fuck no! And if you would let me talk…” He quirks a brow, waiting to see if I’ll comply, and I squeeze my lips shut and nod for him to continue. He offers me a strained smile, but sadness pollutes it, along with an acceptance that steals the last drop of warmth from my body. “I don’t want to give you up. But I also know I don’t deserve to keep you. If that means I have to share you with one of my oldest friends…”

  This time, his words send a surge of anger through me, and I shove at his chest.

  “So what? I’ll just be a whore for you and your friends to pass around? Just like you used to imply when we were younger?” I demand, my anger growing from a mere spark to an entire forest fire. “Fuck you.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Karsyn hisses, continuing to kiss the nape of my neck. “This isn’t just about sex.”

  “Then what is it about?” Despite the anger in my voice, my body betrays me and begins to grow wet.

  “It’s about you and our feelings for you. There’s no denying that I want you, and now we know that Elias does too. You know what polyamorous relationships are, don’t you?”

  “Open relationships?” I ask, trying to picture Karsyn with other girls while in a relationship with me. The thought makes me see red, though I try to quell my inte
rnal reaction before it can externalize itself.

  Karsyn smirks, and I have the irresistible urge to either punch it off of him or kiss it. “Poly relationships can be a lot of different things, but what I mean is a committed relationship between the three of us.”

  “A…”

  “Of course, I need to talk to Elias about it. And we need to decide if it’s something we all want. And we need to—”

  I cut off his ramblings by giving in to my yearning to kiss him. He responds immediately, his lips going soft and pliant under my careful ministrations.

  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he breathes. “I know it’s too soon for love, but I…” He punctuates his words with a kiss to the corner of my lips. “With Mariabella, it…” Once more, he trails off, a guilty expression shadowing his features.

  “Hey, you don’t have to say anymore. She told me.” I cup his cheeks in both of my palms, loving the way his whiskered face tickles my skin.

  “She told you?” Karsyn questions in wide-eyed disbelief. And then, his eyes narrow, expression contorting from guilty to suspicious. “That sly bitch.” He smiles slightly. “Do I have to worry about her stealing you from me as well?”

  I giggle as he runs his fingers down my bare ribcage, tickling me. Karsyn lowers his eyes to my bouncing breasts, before taking one into his mouth. He releases it with a dramatic pop before rolling onto his side next to me. I twist as well, so we’re sharing a pillow, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “I think she’s my best friend,” I confess as he lovingly kisses my nose.

  “She’s mine, too,” he says. “And in all seriousness, I’m happy that she has another person to confide in. I know she’s been lonely and afraid, and having you as a friend has definitely helped her flourish.”

  Light explodes in my chest at his praise, and I have to bite my lip to contain my goofy smile. I feel drunk off of the sensations he evokes within me. Drunk off of him.

  His own smile is glorious. He leans closer…

  Just as my phone begins to ring from my backpack.

  “Ignore it,” he pleads, kissing my bare shoulder, but I shake my head and slide out of bed.

  “It could be important,” I tell him, padding on bare feet to where he placed my backpack when we arrived at his house. I dig through the pockets until I reach my phone, Nana’s name flashing on the screen. Instantly, the lust shifts into fear as I press the green button to answer the call.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask without preamble. Karsyn moves silently from the bed to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his hard chest. I allow myself to relax for just a second, for one brief moment of weakness, before stepping out of his embrace.

  “You need to come home, Peony. Now,” Nana instructs. Her dogmatic tone sends a cold chill coursing through me.

  “What’s wrong?” I repeat, fearing what she’s going to say.

  “It’s your mother… She’s here.”

  Chapter 42

  “What do you want?” The words fly from my mouth before I even enter the house.

  Karsyn dropped me off only a few minutes earlier, demanding reassurances from me that I will explain everything later. He still doesn’t understand what it means to be a witch, what it means for us, and I never told him about the Bloods either. They’re the biggest threat our community faces, even more so than witch hunters, and if he’s serious about this, about me, then he needs to know every facet, the good and the bad.

  “Peony.” Mom rises gracefully from the chair she’s sitting on, allowing me to see her for the first time since I left California. She’s a vision of beauty, a portrait that is better fit on a church’s wall than in the flesh. I sometimes wonder if she uses magic to make her skin so clear of blemishes, but I don’t dare ask. Her black hair, the color of a raven’s feathers, glides down her back in perfect curls, framing an angelic face of slitted green eyes and Cupid’s bow lips.

  “Where have you been?” she asks curtly, gliding forward. She wears a white pantsuit that accentuates her slender, hourglass figure. The jacket is unbuttoned, revealing the gray, frilly blouse underneath. She moves with an elegance that I can only attempt to replicate. It’s an ethereal type of grace and beauty that makes others pale in comparison.

  “Why are you here?” The last time I saw Mom, she was, quite literally, shoving me out the door. No passing go. No collecting two hundred dollars. She wanted me out of her life once and for all, if only to secure her position as head of the coven. My power has the potential of surpassing hers, and I truly believe that terrifies her. Terrifies her enough to rid herself of her one and only daughter.

  “We need to talk,” she states primly, and over her shoulder, on the second sofa, I see Nana sitting ramrod straight. Her hands ball into fists on her lap as she glares at a second figure, one who I hadn’t noticed initially.

  “Ryan, come here.” Mom snaps her fingers like an owner summoning a dog, and a moment later, my ex-boyfriend’s brother comes shuffling forward, looking demure and positively fearful. I don’t know Ryan well, having only interacted with him a few times, but I do know that he’s a powerful warlock. I suppose that power makes up for his less than impressive looks. Mousy brown hair tumbling across his forehead, in desperate need of a cut. Shrewd, narrowed eyes, an unassuming shade of brown. Teeth that are slightly too large in his small mouth. Large, prominent nose that crooks at the end from the time he broke it.

  This is the man my mom wants me to marry.

  “What the fuck is this? Why is he here?” I demand as I look back and forth between the two of them suspiciously. Mom simply puckers her lips, almost like she’s sucking on a lemon, but Ryan gives me a predatory leer when my mom isn’t looking, one that makes me feel dirty. When I catch his gaze, he drops his head to the floor with a submissive whimper.

  “We need you to return to the coven,” Mom announces, sashaying forward to tenderly brush at my tangled white hair. Her lips protrude out even further when she takes note of my faded jeans and sweater. Fortunately, Karsyn remembered to put my wet clothes in the dryer before we fell asleep after sex, so I wasn’t forced to wear his T-shirt and boxers home. That would raise a whole multitude of questions I wouldn’t know how to answer. Still, I don’t like my mother this close to me. Something about her sets off every one of my instincts, warring voices inside of me telling me to scream, to run, to fight, to hide. My necklace warms on my skin, and I wrench my hair free of her grip in abject horror.

  “Did you just try to use magic on me?” I ask, horrified. Using magic on other witches, especially those in your coven, is as taboo as they come. It’s not a punishable offense, but everyone knows the unspoken rule. And to use it on your own family?

  “What is this?” Nana demands, stalking forward until she can wrap a protective arm around my waist. She all but drags me a step behind her, blocking me from view.

  Once more, Mom purses her ruby-red lips.

  “It was a simple persuasion spell,” Mom dismisses, as if we’re being ridiculous and over-dramatic. But doesn’t she know how intrusive a persuasion spell can be? Is she really that desperate for power that she’d attempt to take away my free will? My stomach turns somersaults as I stare at my mother with new eyes.

  “Why do you want her home?” Nana interjects, sounding furious on my behalf. She glares down at her daughter, eyes almost incandescent in anger.

  “The reasons are between me and my daughter,” Mom hisses, refusing to be intimidated by the more powerful witch. Her nose wrinkles as if she smells something particularly pungent before she steps away, closer to me. “Peony, please come home. Your coven needs you.”

  “What is he doing here?” I point with my chin at Ryan, who lowers his gaze to his shoes. I can’t help but grimace at the squirming man. Ryan and Uriel could not possibly be more different from each other. It’s like a night and day comparison, the moon versus the sun.

  Mom appears annoyed by my incessant questioning. She st
omps her foot, eyes spewing vitriol, before she gestures for Ryan to step even closer.

  “As you know, Ryan is one of the most powerful warlocks of our generation. He’s slated to join the witch’s council once he’s older. The two of you together…”

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I gripe, throwing my head back in laughter. I know it’s not a joke, that she’s completely serious, but I prefer to take it as one. It’s the only thing that will keep my sanity intact, especially when I want to lunge forward and wrap my hands around her bird-like throat. “You’re still trying to sell me off, aren’t you? To him?”

  “Your marriage will do great things for the community!” Mom implores. “Think of your offspring—”

  “I’m just going to stop you there,” I interrupt, holding up a hand as if that can prevent her ramblings. “For starters, I will never, not in a million years, marry Ryan. Never. Do you understand that? And don’t even act like this will save the entire witch race.” Some of my original ire bleeds into my voice, turning each word curt and succinct. “You’re doing this to gain more power for yourself. Don’t bother to fucking lie to me. You know that Ryan’s family is important in the community, and you think that an alliance between our families will further secure your spot as leader of the coven.”

  I wait for her to deny it, to plead with me, but instead, her expression turns glacial. Any warmth I thought I saw in her eyes fizzles and dies a painful death. She straightens, smoothing out her jacket sleeves, before sighing heavily.

  “You don’t have to make things difficult,” she snaps. “After all I’ve done for you—”