Allison and the Torrid Tea Party: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Harem of Hearts Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “You look stupid handsome,” I say, giving his collar a tug. He’s still wearing it, along with the tag that has my name on it. He’s got all his piercings in, too, which gives a nice contrast with the crispness of the suit. “If I found you as a stray, I’d most certainly take you home with me.”

  One black and white striped ear perks up, but then we both stumble again, and Lar is there to catch us. He steps in a few seconds early and helps correct my form, passing the cat off to the Duke to watch over.

  His pale blue-blonde hair makes a nice contrast against the red of his suit jacket.

  He’s definitely the best dancer of the group, hands down, even when paired against the King.

  “Keep your eyes out tonight,” he whispers, putting his mouth against my ear and making me shiver. “The only prophecy I’ve seen since last night was a broken image in the bathtub. And it was of you, covered head to toe in blood.”

  Lar leans back and for just a split second, the confidence in his face is gone, replaced with concern and just a hint of fear.

  No wonder everyone’s acting so sketchy.

  Before I can think of how to respond to that statement, Lar is cupping my face with his hand and leaning in toward me. He leaves the moment up to me, lets me decide if I want to close that gap or not. I decide to go for it, lifting up on my toes to kiss the Caterpillar’s full mouth.

  That asshole of a king interrupts me, cutting into our sequence far before it’s his turn again.

  “What the hell was that for?!” I ask, giving him a little shove and hoping like hell he tumbles out of the air and breaks a leg. Instead his hand tightens around mine, his fingers digging into my hip possessively. The look on his face is pure, carnal hell.

  “I won a bet during our croquet game, remember?” he growls, and my cheeks flush with a mixture of frustration, embarrassment … and lust. The music comes to an end, and Brennin Red tucks his gloved fingers under my chin, lifting my face toward his. I knew it! I just knew it! He would wait until this moment to collect, wouldn’t he?!

  My eyes slide closed of their own accord, just before I feel the hot heat of his lips on mine. His tongue isn’t far behind, invading my mouth and drawing a groan from me that echoes around the quiet ballroom. I’m not even sure if I’m still floating at that point, or if our feet have finally made contact with the floor.

  The King does one better and sweeps me up in his arms, crushing me against his much larger frame, holding me like I really am his queen.

  My arms go around his neck, and I find myself on my tiptoes, straining for more, desperate for it.

  “So it’s true: you’re a whore in both worlds.”

  That voice … it shatters my blissful little cocoon, and I end up breaking away from the King and stumbling. I spin around, trying to find the source of the voice. It sounds like the Mocking Turtle, but it can’t possibly be, right?

  “What is it?” Brennin asks, and in less than a second I’m literally surrounded by all nine men and the White Knight.

  “If you’d just done what you did with the King, with Liam and his friends, your mother would be free. Your father wouldn’t be broken. And your sister, Edith … oh, what a delicious little tart she is.”

  “You leave my sister alone!” I snap, putting my hands on the sides of my heads. How can I hear the Mocking Turtle if he’s not even here? He can’t get inside the walls, remember?

  “The Turtle,” Tee says, taking one look at me and catching onto the problem. Perceptive, as usual. He would’ve made an amazing king to his own people. “You shouldn’t have let her look at him so long.”

  “Me?” Dee asks, but he’s busy looking around the room as the rest of the men whisper.

  “He’s not doing this on his own,” March says, tapping a knife against the palm of one hand. “If she’s hearing him in her head, then he’s got an accomplice in here somewhere.”

  My eyes fall on the Knave, frowning at me from the edges of the crowd.

  “I’m going to go after Edith, and I’m going to have a little taste—the same sort of taste that Liam wanted.” I fucking snap when I hear that, shoving past Chesh and Lar and moving over to the Knave. I don’t even bother to be nice about it. I just grab her by the front of her dress and get in her face.

  “You’re doing this, aren’t you?” I choke out, feeling like my skull’s about to explode. “You brought him in here somehow.”

  “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Ines says, lifting up a hand when her husbands move forward to disengage me. What she does do is smile, which only pisses me off more. “But please, continue. Show the entire court what a useless waste of life you are.”

  “Oh, please do. Then they’ll lock you up, and Edith will be all mine to snack on.” The Mocking Turtle’s voice drives me up the bloody fucking wall, like nails on a chalkboard, that screeching sound trapped inside my skull where nobody else can hear, nobody else can take the burden off of his awful words.

  Shoving my skirt up, I whip the Vorpal Blade out of its sheath and press the mirrored blade against the Knave’s neck. It’s at that point when she actually has the grace to look scared.

  Whispers break out amongst the crowd as they all peer at my weapon in wonder.

  The Lion is there an instant, swinging his fist right at my goddamn face. To be fair, I do have a knife to his wife’s throat, but I honestly don’t expect it. Brennin Red moves in the flash of an instant, getting between us, but he does end up taking a fist to the face.

  The court lets out a collective gasp as blood drips from the King’s mouth, and he reaches up white-gloved fingers to touch the blood, staring at his fingertips for a moment before he gives the Lion a look that the other man won’t soon forget. Me, I’m still standing there holding the Vorpal Blade and wondering what it is that I’ve just gone and done.

  “You fool,” the King hisses, turning around and snatching my wrist before tearing the weapon from my hand. He slips the blade back into the sheath, yanks me in the direction of a small door, and charges forward as the crowd parts for him like the Red fucking Sea.

  The King of Hearts drags me down a hallway, his white-gloved hand squeezing too tightly on my tender wrist. He throws me against the wall and then slams his palm into the stones near my head.

  "Are you an idiot?!" he snarls out, his teeth gritted in anger, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He's panting, his chest rising and falling, speckles of blood decorating his cheeks and lips. There's just enough light from a flickering torch for me to see the scar that runs from the right corner of his lip and down, slicing right across his throat.

  His father … he actively tried to behead him.

  Those words echo in my mind as I swallow hard and squeeze my left hand tighter around the hilt of the Vorpal Blade. I shouldn't have taken it out here; the King warned me as much last night. But I just … got so goddamn pissed. The Mocking Turtle is digging up my worst fears and spattering them around inside my skull like so much carnage. That, and last night was such a blur, it slipped my mind and …

  "Do you want to meet the Anti-Alice today?" he growls, his ebon eyes flashing as he turns away from me with a scowl. It's awfully dark back here, and the King smells awfully good. I hate how much I like it, and I hate how I can even notice something like that at a time like this. But I know logically that the Mocking Turtle cannot get to Edith; she’s safe on the other side of the Looking-Glass. I won’t let his words get to me. "You just risked everything, and for what?"

  "My pride and dignity," I grind out, sniffling and then reaching up with my left hand to rub away some of the King's blood from my face. I hadn’t realized so much had spattered when he took that punch. "I figured at least you would understand that?"

  "Some things are more important," he snaps at me, slamming his gloved palm into the wall again for emphasis. I'm just suddenly desperate to know what's under there. What's he hiding anyway? Brennin leans in and puts his mouth deliciously close to my ear, his breath warm against m
y skin. "Like the fate of Underland. Not that you give a shit."

  "You don't know that!" I snap back at him, turning my face so fast that our mouths brush together.

  There's this … weird, tense moment between us. It stretches hot and strange, our hatred boiling out and over, tainting the air with pretty poison.

  Red's mouth slams into mine, his hands going to my waist and pushing me back against the wall. He crushes me to it with his body, his gloved hands squeezing my corseted waist tight as he slips them beneath my breastplate. With our matching clothes, and this frightening level of passion, it really does feel like I could be his Queen of Hearts.

  He bites my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and stealing a groan from my throat at the same time. I think this man is a piece of human garbage, but oh my ears and whiskers, as Rab might say, this is too much. It feels too good, burns too hot, sears my inhibitions away along with my rationality.

  The fingers of my right hand fist in his bloodred hair as our mouths work to fire up these sparks into a raging flame. I'm making sounds right now I didn't even know I was capable of, curling my left hand around the nape of the King's neck. He's already soaked in sweat, and I love it. Pretty sure his mouth is dripping blood all over my dress, but it's already red so who would know? Besides, in that moment, I can't find it in myself to care about anything but this ardent heat. I need to seek it out to its natural end.

  Brennin Red tangles his hands in my full skirts, pushing them up and out of his way. His fingers brush the Vorpal Blade's sheath as he slides his palm up my inner thigh, over the thigh-highs and garter belt I said I wasn't going to wear but did anyway. When his fingers brush over the dampness on the front of my panties, my knees buckle and the King puts one of his between them to keep me standing upright.

  My only wish right now … is that he keeps his fucking mouth shut.

  I keep kissing him with the sole intention of making that happen. Yeah, uh, no, I'm not at all interested in kissing the bastard for any reason other than this. The stupid crown on my head tilts to one side, but doesn't fall off. Guess that is a useful spell, even if the Knave did cast it.

  I move my right hand from Red's hair to the clasps on the front of his pants, buried underneath his robes. These are not freaking jeans, people. There are way too many buttons, so many that I end up tearing them just to get access to what's inside.

  My fingers slip into Red's pants and … brush across a hard, metal object.

  "The hell is …" I start, pushing him back just a bit so I can see what it is that I'm groping. I was aiming for dick and ended up with a bejeweled codpiece?! "What on earth …"

  "These are in fashion," the King snaps at me, just before he rips his codpiece off and chucks it aside. In case you were wondering what, exactly, a codpiece is, I'll tell you. It's a fancy dick cup that was worn by men in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries because ladies, dick measuring contests have been around since the dawn of time.

  My next kiss cuts off whatever else he was going to say. Frankly, I don't care. If he keeps talking, I'll stop wanting to fuck him. And right now, that's all I want to do.

  At least underneath the codpiece is nothing but warm, velvety skin. My fingers curl around the slick length of him, using his sweat as lube. Red growls against my mouth and kisses his way across my jaw and over to my ear, biting my lobe as he teases my clit through my panties. I want them inside now, but I also don't want to speed the moment along. No, I want to enjoy it. For just a minute, I want to pretend that I am going to marry the King of Hearts and be his Queen, take nine husbands and rule over Underland.

  But … why can't I?

  What's stopping me?

  I can just let myself stay here, see if I can finally find out what happiness feels like, tastes like, fucks like.

  But back home, I have Edy and Dad and Mom waiting for me.

  My heart stutters and cracks, and I open my mouth to ask the King about the Looking-Glass. If I can jump back and forth, then … then this could work. Surely, he'd be willing to compromise?

  But then his gloved fingers slip under the fabric of my panties, pushing into the hot slickness of my core and teasing me with crooked motions. He knows all the right places to press to turn my body to jelly.

  In response, I tighten my hand on Red's cock, squeezing hard enough that he makes some accidental noises of his own, too close to animal sounds to be faked. I love it. Running my thumb over the tip of his cock, I feel his hips buck against my hand.

  The King moves his mouth back to mine, hovering his lips just out of reach. I try though, leaning up on my tiptoes for his kiss. Because he might be a total fucking prick, but he's an amazing kisser.

  "My Queen," he says, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of me at the same moment he leans down and starts to kiss and lick and nip at my throat. Oh Hearts and Diamonds, I curse inside my own head. Because there's just no way in hell I can talk aloud right now. The only noises that seem able to escape past the torrid confines of my lips are groans, moans, and whimpers. "My Alice."

  Brennin sucks on my skin hard enough that I just know I'm going to have a major hickey, but also just hard enough that I don't give a shit. With my left arm, I pull him closer, encouraging him to push this up a notch, join our bodies, break this tension.

  Guess the King of Hearts is no idiot because he gets the hint, removing his hand from my panties as I extract my own from his pants. He lifts me up against the wall with one arm, my legs automatically wrapping his waist. There's so much skirt fluff, but he shoves it out of our way with a growl, locking his ebon-dark eyes on my pale blue ones.

  There's nothing to be said, so neither of us bothers.

  Instead, the King uses his right hand to push aside my panties, and guides himself to the throbbing heat between my thighs.

  Keeping our gazes locked, he thrusts inside of me so hard that I let out a small scream. It feels so good, but he’s so big, and the sensation of him is so foreign. When I try to bury my face in his neck to stifle my sounds of pleasure, he cups my face with one gloved hand and forces me to keep looking at him, pumping his hips in a hard, fast, frenzy. It’s so quiet down this hallway, with just the two of us, that all I can hear is the wet sound of our joining.

  My eyes get half-lidded, and my mouth parts for his, letting him slide his tongue in against mine, letting him claim me and loving every second of it. This is so different from North’s animal instincts, from Dee’s loving nature, Tee’s reserved confidence. This is … probably seriously fucking unhealthy. And yet, I’ve never felt such a rush before.

  I’m completely flooded by passionate hate, and craving ardent ire.

  “I hate you so much,” I manage to choke out, and the King makes a sound, kissing me hard enough to bruise. He fucks my ass into that wall so roughly that I know I’m going to be scratched and bruised, and yet, I find myself losing control, my muscles clamping down around him. I’m freaking coming before he does, wiggling and fighting against his movements as pleasure destroys me.

  The King comes with this angry, frustrated sound that soon finds its way to this horrid superiority and triumph that I so desperately want to punch off of his face. He finishes inside of me and then collapses against the wall, crushing our bodies together.

  What. The. Fuck. Have I just done?

  "Your majesty," Tee says from the end of the hallway. As soon as I hear his voice, strained and tense, it's like a bucket of cold water's been thrown over my face. The King separates us and fixes his pants before setting me down.

  I'm panting and soaked in sweat, but suddenly ice-cold.

  I push my skirts down and turn to face Tee with guilt riding heavy on my shoulders. I'm supposed to ask the other members of my, uh, harem before taking a new guy, right? Did I just … cheat? God, I have no idea how this whole thing works.

  "Yes?" the King asks, his voice that deep, annoying know-it-all baritone that made me want to stab him with the Vorpal Blade the first moment I met him. But the way he looks at Tee,
it's not like a King looking at his servant. It's an alpha male sizing up a threat.

  "We have two dead guards in the kitchen, and no idea what or who is in the castle with us. The White Rabbit says he doesn't sense anything else out of the ordinary, but clearly, something's going on." Tee bites this last part off the end of his tongue, flicking his amethyst eyes to one side. He's not mad at me … he's fucking terrified.

  I listen for the Mocking Turtle’s voice inside my head, but it’s gone. At least for right now. Or maybe I just couldn’t hear it over our furious grunting and groaning? Gross. A hot flush fills my face. There’s a strange silence in the hallway, broken only by the music from the ballroom which is still playing. Surely, if something nefarious was going on, the music would stop?

  "Bring me the Du—" Red starts, cutting off abruptly and yanking what I thought was a decorative sword from his belt. He spins just in time to intercept the Gryphon's blade, looking boss as hell even with his robes gaping open and several buttons missing on the front of his pants. The King raises a boot and kicks his opponent in the stomach, knocking him back several feet.

  Tee's at my side, tearing out the Vorpal Blade and putting it back in my hand.

  I give him a look, but he just shakes his head.

  "It’s too late now; come with me," he says, but the Gryphon is using the tight space to his advantage, filling the hallway with his wings and using the extra appendages to attack the King. Now, I'm not sure I even like the prick, but he's one of the few threads holding Underland together. Snap that, and everything falls apart.

  I break away from Tee's grip and head for the battle, intending to step in with the Vorpal Blade … or maybe a little bit of magic, and turn the tide. But I'm not faster than a fallen angel prince. He cuts me off by thrusting one of his wings in front of me and yanking me back.

  "We need to go now," he snaps, gritting his teeth and pleading at me with his eyes to listen. "Where do you think all the guards are? Clearly not on their way here. The Mocking Turtle must be in the castle somewhere." He yanks me back and I stumble, watching as he moves his black and blue feathers out of the way to reveal the King struggling in his fight with the Gryphon. It looks like the two men are pretty evenly matched. If this were to play out to the finish line, well, I wouldn't be making bets on a winner.