Theirs to Pleasure: a Reverse Harem Romance

by Stasia Black

  And then I’m immediately ashamed again that I’m worried about what Dominick will think of my room when he’s so obviously distressed.

  “You can talk to me, Dom,” I put a hand on his forearm. His muscles tense reflexively at my touch but then relax. He reaches over and covers my hand with his.

  “I wasn’t kidding about what I said earlier,” he says, leaning his shoulder into mine. “Everything has been so much better since we moved in here. I feel more…” He pauses like he’s searching for a word. “Grounded.” He nods.

  “So what’s bothering you?” I press. I can tell something’s eating at him. Talking to him about stuff has always made me feel better over the past couple months. And I want to be that for him—his sounding board, the person he can come to when he needs to unload.

  He looks away from me. “I don’t know if I can talk about it to you.”

  My mouth drops open. “You can. I promise. No matter what it is. I won’t judge.” I want him to trust that I can handle it, no matter what it is.

  He turns back to me. His hazel eyes are so dark when they’re in the shadows like they are now. They’re the one thing he didn’t get from his dad. Right now, his irises and pupils just dissolve into one another in the dim light. “I’m really tired,” he says. “But I don’t want to leave. Could we… Do you think we could maybe…” he trails off and looks down again.

  “What?” I ask. I’ve never seen him like this. So tentative. He’s usually all brash confidence.

  “Could I maybe lay down here? I just don’t want to leave yet.” Even in the dim light, I can see how hopeful he looks. And how afraid of rejection.

  I can’t believe it. This amazingly strong man, so smart and kind, thinks he could find a little comfort in laying down with me?

  “Of course!” I say, scooting over and holding the covers open wide.

  If he notices that I’m just wearing a thin-to-the-point-of-sheer spaghetti-strap shirt and white cotton panties, he doesn’t comment.

  He moves to lie down beside me and pulls the sheet and comforter over him. I always sleep with two pillows. Usually I put one between my legs, but I give that one to him. No, scratch that. At the last second, I snatch that pillow back and give him mine instead. What if it smelled like…you know.

  “Here,” I say, patting the pillow awkwardly as I set it at the top of the bed and then grabbing my leg pillow and settling it under my own head.

  Dominick pulls the pillow I gave him under his head and exhales as he settles in. It’s as if I can feel the tension leaving his big body beside me.

  Meanwhile, I suddenly become aware of every inch of my own skin.

  I’ve never had someone in my bed with me.

  Or been in someone’s bed.

  Yeah, considering the whole prom disaster, my whole one boyfriend experiment was short-lived.

  But I’ve imagined this moment a million times. Well, not this moment obviously, with my own stepbrother. But a moment like this one. Being in bed with a man, his warmth beside me. Not even doing anything, just being. Snuggling maybe.

  But none of my fantasies do justice to the real thing.

  I’m always so cold. Maybe I have bad circulation or something, but I’m always freezing. And Dominick is like a heat machine. I’ve noticed this about both him and Dad. They run hot. It can be forty degrees out and they’ll wear a t-shirt and shorts. Meanwhile I’ve got long underwear and my giant winter coat on.

  “How did your feet get cold again in the ten minutes since I last had hold of them?” Dominick laughs after his shins come into contact with my feet.

  “Oh God. Sorry.” I yank them away from him. Mortification number three hundred and forty-seven for the evening? Check.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one of your quirks.” Dominick wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

  My eyes sink closed at how good it feels.

  So. Much. Better. Than. I. Dreamed.

  He fits his knees behind mine and then settles his whole body flush against me.

  I’m dreaming.

  This is a dream.

  I was so tired, and keyed up from the movie. This is obviously an extremely vivid dream.

  Because there is no way that Dominick is spooning me in real life.

  Is there?

  He nestles his chin against the back of my head, moving my hair aside with one hand. “I won’t let you be cold, beautiful.”

  The words are a warm breath against my neck and his arm rests around my waist, curled right below my breasts.

  I can’t help the next few stuttered gasps that escape my lungs, but then I do everything in my power to concentrate on breathing normally.

  Slow breath in, hold for a couple seconds, then slow breath out. There. That’s how normal people breathe. Right?

  Right??

  But Dominick apparently doesn’t notice anything off because within two minutes, his breathing regulates and he starts to snore gently. It’s simultaneously the most manly and comforting sound I’ve ever heard. I can feel it rumbling up through his chest at his back. I’ve never felt anything like it.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, I rest my arm over Dominick’s where it curves around my stomach. He stirs only the slightest bit and clutches me tighter against him.

  My breath hitches again but I don’t move my hand from where it lays over his. He settles and his quiet snores start up again.

  I lay there for one of the best and simultaneously worst nights of sleep of my entire life. Best because I’ve never felt more secure or beautiful and just… freaking amazing in my whole life. And worst because I hate that I keep falling asleep. I don’t want to miss a moment of it.

  I leave my hand over Dominick’s as he holds me all night long and know that if it’s in my power, I’m never going to let him or Dad go.

  Chapter 3

  Dominick’s sleepovers become a semi-regular thing over the next few weeks. Granted he’s still working crazy hours for his residency, so it’s maybe two to three nights a week, but God, how I treasure those nights.

  If Dad notices our growing closeness, he doesn’t say anything, though I do notice his gaze moving between the two of us sometimes at dinner. He doesn’t looked concerned, though, just interested as always in what we’re doing. I chalk it up to my imagination and paranoia.

  It’s not like Dominick and I are doing anything wrong anyway.

  I mean sure, we’re sleeping together. But not like that!

  Dominick will just come in after Dad’s gone to bed, maybe after we’ve all watched TV or he and I study at the kitchen table while Dad works on his laptop. Then Dom and I will talk for a little bit with him sitting against the headboard. I tell him about stuff going on in my life, he tells me about things stressing him out at the hospital, and then he gets into bed beside me and curls me up against him.

  I’ve even actually started being able to fall asleep now since, the more it happens, the more confident I feel that each time won’t be the last.

  Dominick’s not home tonight. Dad’s on a business trip. Mom’s out as well—shocker. It feels like she’s gone for days at a time. There will be entire weeks I can go without seeing her. I wonder if Dad doesn’t encourage this. The last time I saw the two of them in the same room together he just simply gave her this look. Like a ‘don’t test me’ look. I’m not sure what was being communicated, but Mom just lifted her chin and went off in a huff. We didn’t see her for four days that time.

  Whatever. I finally feel like she’s not my problem. And oh my God, it’s such a relief. I feel free. For the first time in my life. Free and young and just… happy.

  Happiness.

  What a crazy concept, right?

  Well, a little less happy tonight since Dad and Dominick aren’t home, but I can’t be greedy. I get them so much of the rest of the time.

  I yawn as the little scribbled numbers blur on the page. I’ve been working on this Statistics homework until I feel cross-eyed.

 
If I’m honest—yes, I wanted to distract myself so I wouldn’t miss the boys. The house always used to be this empty, but now it just feels wrong not to hear the TV on or the shower running somewhere or Dom’s big clonking footsteps jogging up and down the stairwell. I glance at the clock.

  It’s eleven. My yawn stretches wider. Okay. I should be able to sleep now.

  I wash up, switch on my night light, and turn in.

  Dominick sleeps over so much that my second pillow has started to smell like him. I bury my nose in his pillow and inhale. His scent is comforting.

  It takes some time, but the math homework did its job and soon I’m nodding off.

  …

  …

  And then I start to dream.

  It’s one of those dreams.

  Dominick’s big body is curled up behind me. His arm drapes over my waist. Chin nestled in the crook of my neck. Just like always.

  It’s completely innocent.

  Until it’s not.

  Dominick’s hand moves up. His large hand easily envelops my breast. My breasts aren’t tiny but they feel that way in his huge hands. And then he gently squeezes—

  What the—

  Not gentle, not gentle!

  He’s jerking at my nipple. Pulling and plucking and—

  My eyes shoot open.

  I’m not alone in my bed.

  I swing around to look behind me, confused and just what the—

  Dominick.

  I blink and breathe and—

  “Dominick?”

  He’s not supposed to be here tonight. He had a double.

  But it’s definitely Dominick, long floppy hair and all, laying behind me. With his hand on— His hand is on my—

  “I need you tonight, beautiful,” he whispers and there’s something off about his voice. It comes out ragged and choked. “I’ve tried to fight it, I know it’s wrong, but today was just…” He shakes his head, his features contorting. “I need you.”

  And then he rolls me so that I’m flat on my back and his lips are on my lips. Next thing I know, his body is over mine and his weight is pressing me into the mattress.

  His mouth invades mine, pressing for entry.

  I, but I—

  His hand moves from my breast and drops lower. Before I even have my bearings, one of his thick fingers is pressing at my entrance. Down there.

  His finger meets wetness and slides right inside me. I gasp in shock as my whole body shudders and pleasure.

  That’s when I really wake up.

  Holy crap.

  Dominick is here.

  Dominick is touching me.

  Dominick is touching me like that.

  I start kissing him back just as hungrily.

  I don’t know what’s going on. If this is a dream, it’s like nothing I’ve ever— I mean, I never knew anything could even be like—

  “God, Dominick,” I whisper in between panting gasps. I can’t breathe. I’m going to die because I can’t breathe. He’s stealing my breath. It’s so good. So good.

  “Fuck, Sarah, say it again,” he whispers. His voice still has that deep, desperate quality to it. “You don’t know how long I’ve needed to hear you say my name like that. You’ve been fucking torturing me.”

  “Dominick,” I breathe out and he lunges against me.

  That part of him. I feel it. Hard as a rod. Hot and hard, pressing against my stomach. He swivels and swirls his hips as he kisses me deep.

  He pulls back suddenly.

  No, God, did I do something wrong—?

  But it’s only so he can lift me up long enough to pull off my tiny shirt. He pauses for a moment just staring at me. “Holy fuck, little sister. Are you telling me this is what I’ve been sleeping just inches away from for weeks?” He sounds mesmerized. And his words. I’ve never known him to be so vulgar.

  It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

  He drops down and starts to suckle one of my breasts, shoving them together with both his hands, licking down the crevice he creates, then taking the other in his mouth.

  When he bites down a little on the nipple, I can’t help crying out and jerking against him. “That’s right, beautiful,” he says, licking and then blowing on the nipple he just abused, “let me hear all your noises. There’s no one else home. I want it all. I fucking need it.”

  When he nips at the second nipple, oh God, I do what he wants. I let him hear.

  The way he’s positioned, lower now, when he pistons his hips forward, his steel rod presses right up against the spot his fingers invaded just a moment ago.

  My mouth drops open and my head presses back into the pillow. He alternately worships and tortures my breasts. Meanwhile, he reaches down to caress my hips and thigh and draws my leg around his waist, first one and then the other.

  “I want you to ride me, beautiful. Ride me to get off. And don’t forget to let me hear it.”

  His words and his touch and just God, the fact that this is happening at all, this is really happening—Dominick is here and he’s touching and caressing and oh, doing that—it all ignites a fire that rages higher and higher.

  My legs wrap around his hips and the hardness of him hits the most perfect spot in the universe.

  My hips seem to jerk forward and back against him of their own accord. I might have no idea what I’m doing, but my instincts take over.

  A drive so intense, oh God, he’s sucking on my nipple so hard and pinching the other one. It hurts but feels so, just, what— oh my God, all at the same time, how is that even possible?

  But then he releases his hold on both nipples and blows air across them. He drops his hand between us. His finger slips inside me again. Then his thumb rubs and I flex and press against him and he said to let it out so I scream,

  “Dominiiiiiiiiiiiiick!”

  Light and heat burst all through my body like ricocheting fireworks. But within my body. I’ve never felt— I can’t— And it just, it keeps going and—

  Dominick continues to rub. He buries his head in between my breasts, licking and suckling and tenderly kissing my lips again.

  I pant as the light recedes and my consciousness comes back into my body. My fingertips still tingle and when Dominick swirls his thumb around again, my legs spasm with an aftershock. He smiles, but there’s still a serious look to his features that’s not usually there.

  “You did so good, beautiful,” he whispers, then kisses my breast again. He moves slightly up so that we’re eye to eye, but he doesn’t move his hand, occasionally still circling and causing my breath to short circuit.

  “Now I need you to be completely honest. I don’t care if my question embarrasses you, you have to tell me the truth, no matter what. Can you do that?” His sudden inquiry scares me and with his gaze so direct, I feel like he’s looking straight into my soul. Especially after what we just— I mean, God. I’ve never been more bared to someone. In every sense of the word.

  But I nod because it’s Dominick.

  “How much experience have you had? With sex?”

  Heat rises to my cheeks even at the word. Which is silly considering what we— I mean, he just made me—

  I swallow. “Not much.” I look down.

  “Hey.” He takes my chin and forces my face back up even as he continues to swirl with his other fingers. Oh my God, not fair. How am I expected to even concentrate on anything while he’s—

  “I need details.” His eyes search mine. “I need to know everything you’ve done. Just how far you’ve gone with past boyfriends.” His jaw tightens on the last two words but then his face softens again as he pushes some hair that’s fallen in my face behind my ear.

  I feel my cheeks redden further. I don’t want to tell him. I couldn’t be more inexperienced or immature. I wish he would let me off with the vague answer I already gave, but for some reason, I can see by the look on his face that he feels like he needs to know more.

  And after tonight, I have the feeling I’ll give Domi
nick whatever he needs. I shake my head slowly. “I don’t have any experience,” I whisper.

  “So you’re a virgin,” he clarifies. “Okay, so what about touching and…” He breaks off when I continue shaking my head.

  “I mean, I’ve kissed guys before,” I hurry to clarify.

  His hands freeze everywhere he’s touching me. “But nothing else?” he whispers in clear disbelief. “Not even…” he trails off again and just stares at me.

  I can only take so much of being stared at like I’m a side-show act at a carnival. I yank away from him and start to pull the covers up around myself when he rips them away from me.

  “God, you’re fucking perfect.” He grabs me and rolls us so that he’s on top. He kisses me deep, that manly part of him pressing even more urgently into me.

  He kisses so long and so deep I don’t think he’s ever going to come up for air. I’m not sure I want him to.

  Did I think I was happy before? I didn’t know happiness.

  He finally pulls back, looking slightly anxious.

  “What?”

  “Well, I want to try something, but I don’t know if you’re ready.”

  I hate that he even has to question it.

  “I am,” I blurt in return. “I’m ready for anything. Everything.”

  He still looks hesitant. “Do you think you could… maybe just start by…”

  “Anything,” I repeat, never meaning it more in my life.

  He nods. “You could try touching me.”

  He doesn’t have to say any more. I get what he means. Or well, the general idea of what he means. He’s not the first to ask, but he’s the first I’ve ever wanted to oblige.

  Other boys, like the infamous prom date, have made requests of me throughout the years, with various levels of earnestness and crudeness, to suck their…you know whats.

  I’ve always been disgusted by the whole idea.

  Until Dominick.

  After what he just gave me, I’m eager to explore his body. Still, my hands are tentative at first as they trail down his muscled chest. I don’t want to do it wrong and screw everything up.