Halloween Between the Sheets: A Reverse Harem Anthology of Spooky Scenes that Get to the Point

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Halloween Between the Sheets: A Reverse Harem Anthology of Spooky Scenes that Get to the Point Page 10

by L. A. Boruff


  I alternated taking Slade in my mouth, and then Taylor. Slade’s fingers were a gentle pressure in my hair. With each bob of my head, the chain connecting the nipple clamps moved. I moaned around Taylor’s cock and reached down to my pussy, hoping to relieve the ache and give Quentin a good performance at the same time. He inhaled sharply as I touched myself and switched over to Slade.

  Quentin finally spoke. “I see you got my gift, Ariana.”

  I nodded carefully, my lips stretched around Slade’s thick cock. Between his cock and the plug, I felt so full.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Slade groaned and tightened his fist in my hair.

  Quentin walked closer to the fireplace, allowing me to finally see him in detail. I looked up at him, saw the fiery blue intensity of his gaze on me. I’d forgotten about the makeup, the black circles around his eyes and the white powder on his cheeks. A streak of red stained the collar of his white button-up. For a moment I mistook it for part of the costume. But he hadn’t worn any fake blood.

  I pulled away from Slade and pointed at Quentin. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  “Minor altercation with White’s mistress,” Quentin said. “It turned out she wasn’t so eager to say goodbye to the man funding her leisurely lifestyle.”

  “And she attacked you?” I asked. A feeling of rage started pushing aside my desire.

  “Briefly,” he said.

  I stood up and pointed at Slade and Taylor. “You two told me everything was fine with Quentin.”

  Quentin shrugged. “It was minor, really.”

  Taylor held up his hands. “Everything was fine. I didn’t sense any danger. I would’ve said something if I had.”

  “You know how hazardous these things can get,” I said. “It’s unpredictable. One minute we think everything is in control, and the next…” My hand fell to my naked belly, the little swell there. The spot where White’s knife had rested for just a brief, terrifying moment. That little baby in there—I had to keep her safe. I blinked away tears, my heart clenching with worry. She’d been in danger tonight.

  “What is it? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” Slade asked.

  “Yes, everything’s fine,” I said. “I just…I was scared, tonight. For me. For her.”

  Quentin brought his hands around and rested them on the curve of my belly. “I was scared, too, Ari,” he whispered against my spine.

  “I was, too,” Slade said.

  Taylor spoke up. “We don’t want to ask you to stop working…”

  “No, I’ll never stop working,” I said, gazing into Taylor’s beautiful green eyes, then looking at Slade and Quentin in turn. “But until our little one is born, I’ll take a break from being involved in the action.”

  “Really?” Slade asked. His brown eyes were wide and hopeful, just like Taylor’s green ones.

  “Really,” I said. “I’m not taking any risks. I’ll still oversee the jobs.”

  “Of course,” Taylor agreed. “And you’ll be as involved as you want to, and we’ll pick up any slack. We’re partners in the business, not just in life.”

  Quentin kissed me. “I’m sorry we fought about work, before.” He nuzzled against my neck. “You were right—it should be your choice. As the mother, you have the best instincts of what you’re capable of.”

  “I was wrong, though,” I said.

  “You were right,” Quentin argued. “You came out of it safe—we all did.”

  “This time. I’m not taking any more risks, though.”

  “If that’s what you want,” he said, hugging me tightly to him. The softness of his button-up pressed against my bare chest and rubbed against my clamped nipples.

  I inhaled sharply at the strange sensation. It felt good, but also kind of numb.

  “Let’s take those off,” he said. “How long have you worn them?”

  “Twenty minutes or so?” I guessed.

  “Yes, off they go,” he said. “You’re not supposed to wear them for extended periods of time.”

  “Okay.”

  “This might hurt a little,” he said, unclasping one and then the other.

  As the blood rushed back into my abused flesh, I swayed on my feet. Taylor and Slade braced an arm on either side of me.

  I looked down at their still-hard cocks and acknowledged the pressure in my ass, the ache between my legs. I wanted more. I wanted all of us, here together. I wanted to show them how much I loved them, and feel how much they loved me in return.

  “Should we get on the floor again?” I asked.

  Slade started to position me on my back, but I had another idea.

  “I want Quentin on the floor,” I said.

  “Happily,” Quentin said. He removed his shirt and slacks slowly while I watched. It was unfair of him to tease me when I was already completely turned on. He was all lean muscle and intensity. His hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, and almost everything was perfect. I grabbed his shirt and used it to wipe the makeup from his skin. Beneath was the familiar face of the man I loved.

  The dragon scent of aether filled the room. Everything was as it was meant to be, my men and I naked together.

  Quentin lay down on the floor. I straddled him, facing his feet, and rubbed against his already hard cock. The plug in my ass felt strange as I moved, but not bad.

  “Do you like my gift from Taylor?” I asked.

  “It looks fucking fantastic,” he said.

  I took his cock in my hand and lowered myself onto it until it filled me. He felt so good. With the three of them, I was home. Slowly, I rode him. Slade and Taylor came to stand in front of me on either side of Quentin’s legs. I leaned over to take Taylor in my mouth, and I held Slade’s cock in my hand.

  Shadows danced in the flickering light of the fire while our hearts beat in unison. The sounds of our flesh and our heavy breathing filled the room. Quentin’s hands dug into my hips. Slade reached down and tentatively tweaked one of my recovering nipples. Sharp, surprising pleasure-pain. I squealed around Taylor’s length.

  With each stroke of Quentin’s cock inside of me, I felt myself climbing higher. The plug was an added sensation, making everything more intense. The fiery gazes of Taylor and Slade, both locked on me as I pleasured them, were the final nudge over the precipice. My legs tensed up and my pussy clenched as I bounced wilder and wilder on Quentin. I came with a shout, releasing the tension of the day, letting go of stress and regret.

  Taylor came next, emptying into my mouth, and as soon as he was done, I wrapped my lips around Slade to catch his come. Quentin groaned, his hands so tight on my hips I knew I would have faint bruises later, and I felt his hot seed filling my core. We were one, all four of us, together.

  I slumped forward, exhausted. Taylor and Slade caught me and helped me off of Quentin. One of them gently removed the plug while the others wiped up my legs. Then Slade picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. He laid me out face-down on the bed, and I heard the sound of a plastic container being opened. Whatever he had in mind, it was too much. I was completely spent.

  The sweet, sensual aroma of ylang-ylang filled the room.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Your last Halloween present,” Slade said. “Massage oil.”

  Quentin said, “And it comes with three willing sets of hands.”

  I smiled, and submitted.

  As the sensual massage began, I could feel my body responding not just with relaxation, but arousal.

  We were dragons, and we could take the heat in and out of the bedroom—but I liked it in the bedroom best.

  Keira Blackwood and Liza Street love cooking up reverse harem stories featuring lucky ladies and the men who love them. "Dragon Ever After" is part of the Spellbound Souls series, which features Ariana and her three guys. The first book, Dragon Shattered, is available at most retailers, or start the series for FREE with the prequel, Dragon Forgotten!

  Stacy Jones: Tribe Protector (Chose
n Series Book Three)

  Alternate Point of View Scene

  Tribe Protector Blurb:

  Lily thought she had her hands full with her conflicted feelings over her quickly progressing relationship with Arruk’s wild twin, Drrak, the uneasy truce with the tribe leader, and trying to prove she’s trustworthy to a people who want nothing to do with her. But all that pales in comparison to what’s coming.

  When Lily and her mates are sent into the forest to investigate the intruders closing in on tribe territory, they find something so horrifying it shocks Lily to her very core. But more than that, it pisses her off.

  Driven now by the need to protect a people not her own and to stop the monsters that hunt them, Lily gathers the tribe to her cause, enlisting them to help her. But will they be ready in time or will Lily lose everything in the fight for survival?

  Drrak

  Drrak worked next to Leelee in silence as they dug in the side of the cliff, gathering more stone so she could make her arrow tips for the upcoming battle. He caught her peeking at him more than once when he snuck his own glances at her, but tension and uncertainty held both their tongues captive.

  When all the pouches he’d brought were full of stone, he began to scoop the loose dirt into one of his nearly empty water pouches to make mud, so he could camouflage her pink skin. She stood out in the trees, and he wanted her to be hard to spot when the intruders inevitably attacked.

  Lost in thoughts of what to say to her, he was pulled from his absorption when he heard her breathing deepen. Glancing at her, Drrak found her staring at the pouch of mud tied to the vine across his chest, her expression hungry in a way he instinctively knew was not for nourishment. Even as confused as he was, he couldn’t stop his half-missing, mangled tail from lifting behind him, waving jerkily in answering hunger.

  He had no idea what had brought about such a change in her, but neither did he try to fight the answering feeling spreading through him. He welcomed the rush of hope that filled his heart. A deep, anticipatory rumble started in his chest as he tentatively leaned toward her. He thought she might press her lips to his as she had earlier. He hoped, with a painful desperation, that this might be the moment she Chose him.

  Before they could close the distance between them, the pantari kit yipped from the ledge above, shattering the spell they were under.

  Leelee sat back on her heels, putting more space between them, and looked up to mutter something at the kit. Drrak felt his heart drop down to his stomach. The thought that maybe she was pleased with the interruption immediately assailed him. Doubt rose up in a drowning tide, and rejection felt like thorns piercing him.

  Turning away from her, he shut down his emotions, retreating into the cold, unfeeling place he’d lived in for so long while alone in the forest. He didn’t think of anything but packing up the supplies they’d gathered, didn’t allow himself to focus on the pain waiting to tear him apart as he stood and began slinging bags onto his back. He was so fixated on what he was doing that her voice startled him, her accent changing the usually harsh words to something soft and lilting.

  “Why me?” she whispered.

  Keeping his expression empty, he looked down at her, not understanding what she was asking. She’d used his language instead of her own, so it was not her words that confused him but her meaning. Obviously seeing that he didn’t understand, she asked again.

  “Why do you want me?”

  He reared back in surprise then frowned, squinting at her, trying to see if she was serious. The question stunned him, but it was the hesitant, uncertain expression on her beautiful face that rocked him to his core.

  She does not know? How can she not see…

  Drrak dropped the bags uncaringly and fell to his knees in front of her. He stretched out his hands, hovering his fore hands over her cheeks and his lower pair over her arms. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but struggled to find the words.

  “Leelee. You are… perfect,” he rasped, his voice breaking with the force of the emotion he felt.

  “Perrrfect?”

  She shook her head and shrugged one of her shoulders. She didn’t understand, didn’t know that word. How his brothers hadn’t found cause to teach her that word shocked him. What better way to describe her was there? Everything about her was perfection.

  Drrak growled in frustration. He wanted so badly to understand her, to know what the beautiful sounds she made meant. He ached to speak to her with even a small portion of the ease with which his brothers could.

  Thinking quickly, he tried to come up with some way to show her if he could not tell her. It was imperative he make her understand what he was trying to say. He could not allow her to question her worth, could not stand to see her wonder why he wanted her so badly.

  An idea came to him. Reaching back for one of the pouches he’d thrown off, he drug it in front of him and rifled through it. He had to match numerous pieces of stone together until he found two that fit.

  Pulling the chunks of rock free with a grunt of satisfaction, he lifted them up to show her then pushed one toward her while saying her name and pulled the other to his chest with his own name.

  He waited until she made eye contact then held her gaze as he slowly brought the broken pieces together, showing her how each dip and groove, every jagged edge and sharp point fit the other seamlessly.

  “Perfect. Leelee is perfect for Drrak. I want to be perfect for you,” he rumbled softly, begging for her to see, demanding she understand.

  Comprehension dawned, but it was immediately followed by water pooling in her sparkling green eyes, water he knew to mean sadness. He felt as if the breath was knocked from him at that sight. Before he could beg for her forgiveness, she lunged at him.

  He thought for sure she would try to tear his throat out with her tiny, blunt teeth and tried to brace himself, determined to weather any punishment she doled out. Instead, to his stunned surprise, she sprawled across his chest, cupped his cheeks, and pressed her mouth hard to his, swallowing his alarmed exclamation.

  Drrak was floundering, his mind a mess of confusion, but his body responded instantly. He groaned and wrapped all his arms around her. Hope bloomed, pushing out the despair of moments before.

  Between the aggressive, hard presses of her mouth against his, he mumbled a promise to her.

  “Perfect, tiny, fierce Pasha. I am yours. Choose me. Never fail you, always protect you, care for you. Love you. Mine. Mine,” the last word was a growl against her lips.

  Their mouth presses slowed after a time, but she only raised up far enough to stare down at him. They were both smiling widely, their panting breaths mingling between them. Drrak could not remember ever being this happy.

  The pantari kit, Trrak, expressed his own happiness, warbling up on the ledge above. Leelee looked over her shoulder up at the kit, laughing at the absurd wiggle-hop dance he was doing.

  Drrak rumbled his own amusement, but snapped his head back to her when his rumble made her moan. They stared at each other in surprise for a moment before his gaze fell to her lips. Hungry anticipation sparked through him. His breath hitched and his eyes narrowed when she slid her little, pink tongue over her swollen lips.

  A small, predatory smile curled his mouth right before he rumbled again, harder this time. He watched, rapt, as her lashes fluttered and a shockingly appealing sound of pleasure sounded.

  He felt her spread her legs to either side of his stomach. Slipping his lower hands down her back to cup her tailless rump, he squeezed and pulled her down harder against him, helping her rock her hips.

  Her green eyes popped open at that, glittering with what he instinctively knew was need. He wanted so badly to appease that need, to fulfill her in any she would allow him.

  Growling, she attacked his mouth, licking and biting at his lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth to taste him.

  The feel of her sharp little teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his lips snapped what was left of his frayed co
ntrol. She drove him senseless with the rocking of her hips, made him mad with the heat she caused. He was lost in her, consumed by her. It wasn’t until he felt her slide her hand down his chest and stomach between their bodies, felt it graze the knot of nerves over the base of his maleness, that some semblance of thought returned.

  I have not Presented!

  Ripping his mouth from hers, panic making his movements abrupt, he lifted her off him, set her down on the ledge, and leapt to his feet. His thoughts were scattered, need and urgency making it near impossible to remember what his brothers had taught him.

  “What is first, what is firs—Trrak! I have to feed him to show her I will be a good father to her younglings,” he muttered aloud to himself.

  Spinning in a circle, he searched for the kit before recalling that he was on the ledge above. When he glanced up, the kit was nowhere to be found.

  Curse it!

  “Think! Think! Gifts! Yes, I will give her the Gifts instead.”

  He spun in another circle, trying to find where the damned Gifts had gone off to.

  Where in the Goddess’s name…

  Halting mid-turn, he felt his eye twitch and let out a low growl as realization struck. Drrak slowly looked at the pouches hanging from the vine across his chest, one of which—hanging right where it had been for the last hand of days—held the Gifts he needed. Grumbling in vexation, he drug his fore hands over his face, feeling his lower eyelids pull tight with the movement.

  He heard Leelee make a muffled sound of amusement from where she was sitting and eyed her sourly, feeling distinctly disgruntled that she found his harried fumbling funny.

  The mirthful look on her face, however, lessened some of his nervousness. Drrak's lips twitched and he snorted self-deprecatingly.

  “I am mucking this up worse than a newly matured frrtlk,” he confessed, knowing she wouldn’t understand his words.

  Sucking in a bracing breath, he focused on completing the Presenting ritual without blundering it anymore than he already had. Digging inside the pouch, he pulled free the glow rocks he’d painstakingly hunted for her, a knife he’d carved from a piece of stone made almost entirely of gold rock, a device of his own invention for combing her head fur—what he named a toothstone—and one of the skris flowers from the field where they’d first met. Unfortunately, he saw that the flower was wilted and beat up from being stuffed inside the pouch for days. Frowning in dismay, he raised it higher and eyed it critically. Drrak gave it a little shake and relaxed slightly when the long red stamen extending from the center gave a weak wave.

 

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