by Krista Wolf
Instead he held my face in his hands, forcing me look into his soul as we climaxed together. Making it a hundred times more powerful, a hundred times more meaningful…
“Oh my God…”
I kissed him, held him, hugged to my body. Then, after a while, he finally withdrew. My legs were still trembling, long after was gone. I was a sopping wet mess. My pussy a slick, glistening wreck, dribbling come everywhere.
“You win…” I murmured, looking up at the four of them. I was at a loss for words. “I… I—”
“We all win,” Kyle grinned cutting me off. The others nodded slowly.
“We won the very moment we saw you.”
Epilogue
SAMMARA
I shuddered a little against the wind, staring down from the battlements of the ancient castle. Dawn had broken, and the sun felt good on my face. Still, it hadn’t yet driven away the last of the night’s cold.
“Morning… wife.”
Kyle’s strong arms slid around me from behind. I relished the feel of them. The wonderful security of just being wrapped in them… and how they made me feel so instantly safe from the rest of the world.
“Husband,” I grinned, turning to kiss him. His lips felt the same as always. The stubble of his 24-hour beard, the way he smelled, tasted… it was all still exactly the same.
But also different.
“You ready to take on the world?”
I heard the others, shifting their way forward. Ryan, moving to stand at my right. Jason, at my left. And Dakota… looming like a giant behind us all. Yawning. Stretching as he squinted into the morning sun.
“I’m ready,” I said confidently. “The question is, are you?”
We stared together in silence, over the lush green fields and grounds of the centuries-old estate. It was beyond picturesque. It was postcard worthy, if anyone even sent postcards anymore.
“Two weeks here,” I sighed happily. “Two beautiful, wonderful weeks.”
“And only one with the family,” Ryan pointed out.
“Yeah,” Kyle laughed. “They’ll be fun to have here for a little while. Stomping around the grounds. Visiting the little towns, the pubs within walking distance…”
Jason put a hand on two different merlons. He leaned out dangerously far, staring straight down at a point that made me dizzy to even think about.
“Our friends and family will definitely be fun,” he agreed. “But that second week? When it’s just us…”
I felt a hand go over my ass. It gave it a gentle squeeze.
“That’ll be even more fun,” said Kyle. “Chasing you naked around a whole castle.”
“Pinning you against the walls,” added Ryan. “Kissing you senseless.”
“Screwing you in every one of these bedrooms,” Dakota went on. “Turning you into a human pincushion!”
I laughed, bringing my thighs gingerly together. The pleasant soreness would eventually go away. The memories wouldn’t.
“Seems like you did that one already,” I said. “How many times did you wake me again last night?”
“Two?” Jason offered.
“At least three,” I shot back.
“Maybe four,” said Kyle, “if you count the time you just lay there, purring like a happy kitten while we took turns—”
“Okay, okay,” I smiled. “Four.”
Four wake-ups was a personal record. But then again it was our honeymoon…
“It was the dress that did it for me,” said Dakota.
“Same,” said Kyle. “And the stockings.”
“And the underwear,” said Jason. “Don’t forget those.” His eyes shifted mischievously to mine. “Whatever’s left of them.”
Another arm went around my waist. I found myself leaning on Ryan’s shoulder. Holding hands with Dakota, and Jason..
“We should get a place like this,” Kyle chuckled. “When we get home.”
“You mean a kingdom?” laughed Jason.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “A kingdom. Let’s build a kingdom.”
“Together,” Ryan shrugged. “I bet we could.”
“Oh I know we could,” said Dakota confidently. “Without a doubt.”
Another moment passed. The sun glimmered off something in the distance, and I felt a serene sense of contentment.
“Would I still be the princess?” I asked. “Of our kingdom?”
“Nah,” said Ryan. “More like the queen.”
“And we’d be the four kings,” said Kyle. He gestured over the green field with one arm, grandly. “We could fill our kingdom with princes and princesses. As many as—”
“Easy…” I laughed. “Remember, I’m one. You’re four.”
“So? Four times the love, remember? Four times the fatherhood, too.”
I laughed happily. “Okay, so how many princes and princesses are we talking?”
Kyle gripped my hand and squeezed it. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said. “But the best part? We get to pick. We get to choose.”
The others nodded. As if this was something they’d discussed before.
“We get to move at our own pace,” said Jason. “To add children to our family from each of us, one by one, until we’re all one big disgustingly happy kingdom…”
“With a castle,” said Dakota. “Don’t forget the castle.”
They all turned in my direction, looking at me with enthusiasm.
“You expect me to build you the castle, don’t you?”
They nodded. I laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“Yup,” sighed Jason. “And yet you married us anyway.”
Silence fell, and for a long moment everything was right in the universe. A kingdom. That was my future. A kingdom full of laughter and love, of husbands and children, of friends and family and all manner of endlessly successful endeavors.
The world should look out, I thought gleefully. There are five of us…
I swallowed the lump of pride in my throat.
And any one of us could take it on.
The breeze picked up again, giving me a shiver. Or maybe that was just happiness. It was so hard to tell these days.
“Alright your majesties,” I joked, turning back toward the 300 year-old tower door. “Let’s go downstairs and rule together with an iron fist!”
They swarmed around me, my four gorgeous warriors. Bound to me now, the way they were to each other, for the rest of our lives.
“But first,” I said raising a finger. “Let’s go see if our kingdom has coffee…”
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Need more Reverse Harem?
First of all, thanks for checking out Quadruple Duty - All or Nothing. Hope you absolutely loved it!
If you haven’t already devoured the first book, you can find Quadruple Duty on Amazon
And for even more sweltering reverse harem heat? Check out: Snowed In. Below you’ll find a preview of the incredibly sexy cover, plus the first several chapters so you can see for yourself:
One
MORGAN
“C’mon!” Faith shouted, her voice muffled by the thick drifts of snow. “Just one more run!”
Just one more run. The last run. The last run on the last mountain of a week-long ski-tour in the Italian Alps. Such a bittersweet ending to an amazing time.
But I didn’t want to push it.
“The snow is crazy though,” I argued. “And the wind’s picking up. And the weather says—”
“Blah blah blah,” Faith laughed, with an accompanying eye-roll. “Really Morgan, you have to let loose! You’ve been wound up way too tight, our whole time here!”
Maybe, I thought to myself. But maybe not. The trip had been fun — a much needed and welcome break from our
studies. We’d come all the way from Massachusetts with a bunch of other students, and I’d been drunk two nights out of seven. That was a personal record for me. Wound up tight my ass…
Then again, Faith had already hooked up. Twice. And with two different guys! Although the first one — the cute one — I think she only made out with, and—
“We’re already up here,” Faith said, lowering her goggles. My shoulders slumped as she pointed with one ski pole. “Forget taking the gondola down, we’re doing this double-black diamond!”
Double-black diamond?
My stomach rolled as my friend turned and skied to the edge. I caught up with her cautiously and looked down, already not liking what I saw.
The trail was steep. Wicked steep. It was narrow too, with trees on both sides and what looked like a 90-degree turn that ended in a cliff if you didn’t make it.
“That doesn’t even look like a ski run,” I groaned. I glanced around for a trail marker.
“Sure it is. I saw it on the map earlier.”
“What, that map my parents gave you?” I chuckled. “The one from when they were here in the 70’s?”
Faith laughed again. She really did have the best laugh.
“I will not have you shit-talking your parents!” she said. “Your parents rock! They have more adventure in their little fingers than you do in your entire body!”
I shuddered against the wind. It was probably true. That made it worse.
“Really, Morgan,” she went on. “I don’t know how you were even born to them. Maybe you were switched at the hospital or—”
The rest of her sentence died on the wind. The gusts were picking up again, and conditions were getting blinding. I could barely see her mouth moving, through the blowing snow.
“C’mon,” Faith shouted over the wind. “You’ll remember this forever! This is your YOLO moment!”
With that she planted her poles, pushed forward, and leapt over the edge.
I gasped as her skis caught deep powder, and she began swishing back and forth. She was going fast! My heart leapt into my throat.
Better go now or you’re gonna lose her, my mind warned.
I wanted to turn back the clock. Go back twenty minutes and remake the decision to step into the gondola one last time. We could be in the lodge right now, sitting before the fire. Drinking hot chocolate spiked with Kahlua, alongside the twenty-five or so other UMASS students who were wrapping up our much-needed winter break with us.
Faith was almost gone from sight. She was a tiny pink dot, zigging and zagging, with a blizzard of snow swirling around her.
Dammit.
This was it. My YOLO moment. Only, if you checked the internet, not every YOLO moment ended well for everyone.
No. Some ended horrifically, in fact.
Morgan!
I slipped on my goggles. Tightened the grip on my poles…
And pushed off, over the edge.
Two
MORGAN
I was right. The slope was steep. Steep and narrow and choked with loose snow; almost as if no one else on the entire mountain had made this run all day.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind I could do it. While sports had never been my thing, skiing was the one physical activity I was really good at. Chalk that victory up to my parents, who forced me to travel virtually everywhere with them, all throughout my childhood.
Really Morgan? Are you complaining?
No, not really. My parents were great, for the most part. Great when they were present, anyway. I hadn’t seen much of them since they’d dropped me off at school, of course. It was my third year at UMASS, and they’d still never once come to visit.
Probably for the best.
Right now I had to focus — had to concentrate on keeping myself upright against the speed. Otherwise…
I made the first turn with relative ease. The trail leveled out, turned left, then plunged downward again. It even got narrower. Steeper, if possible. And there were a lot more trees.
This is crazy!
Suddenly I realized something: I’d lost Faith. Against the blinding sea of swirling white, I could no longer pick out her pink jacket.
Did she even make the turn?
I almost skidded to a stop. Something told me to go back and check. Then again, she’d been way ahead of me. She was probably just too far up to see her anymore. Either that, or—
WHOOSH!
Someone whizzed by me — someone else in a red and white UMASS jacket! Another student. They even shouted as they went past.
“GOOOOO!”
I took it as a challenge. Pointing my skis I raced downward, cutting a thin swath through the powdery snow. I’d catch him, whoever it was. I’d catch him and pass him, and then I’d already be undoing my boot-bindings by the time he got to the bottom.
Suddenly I felt a rumble beneath my skis. Which was weird, because my skis were barely touching the ground to begin with. I glanced up. Started looking around…
“DON’T LOOK BACK!”
The voice was loud and clear enough to be distinct — definitely a man’s voice. And of course, the first thing I did was turn around…
HOLY SHIT!
The mountain behind me had disappeared. Not just part of it… the entire mountain! In its place was nothing but a sheer wall of blank white snow. A churning, shifting wall…
AVALANCHE!
Terror struck me, nearly freezing me in position. Luckily, self-preservation took over. I bent my knees, driving hard, coaxing every ounce of speed and power from the surface of my long, sleek skis. My shoulders were scrunched, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting at any moment to be overtaken with a rush of snow and ice…
Don’t look back!
It was so tempting. I needed to know! And at the same time, I knew it would be the end of me. I knew the last thing I saw would be a blinding crash of white, and it would all be over.
The speed was terrifying. I’d never gone this fast. My brain screamed at my body to slow down. To just aim for the softest-looking bank of snow and take the fall. That no matter how many bones I broke, at least I wouldn’t die.
It would’ve been easy. So simple to just throw myself to the ground and cover up.
Instead I kept going. Kept racing…
The blizzard was blinding now. I’d already lost my red-jacketed companion — I could no longer see to my left or right. I could barely see ten feet in front of me, and at the speed I was going, ten feet would’ve been less than a half second anyway.
I screamed. It was the only thing I could do. I screamed until the rumble of the mountain drowned me out. Screamed until I could feel the cold swirl of air rushing up behind me…
This is it! Your YOLO moment!
I was going to die. In my heart I was sure of it. I could taste it even, and the taste made me angry.
C’mon, just one more run!
The taste was bitter and painful, like coffee-grinds and gravel shredding my mouth. Faith’s sing-songy voice echoed tauntingly through my skull, making me vengeful. Filling me with hatred and sorrow and rage…
Up ahead the white parted… and I could see nothing but a vast stretch of grey sky. It was too late to turn. Far too late to stop. I could only fly into it…
Fly into it as a wall of snow crashed into me violently from behind, sending me head over heels… spinning, churning…
My poles were ripped from hands.
My skis, torn from my feet.
I felt my jacket whip over my head, and then something struck me from in front and behind at the same time.
Every ounce of air was knocked from my lungs. I tried to breathe, but sucking in breath was wholly impossible.
Then even the white was taken away from me, as my entire world went utterly black.
Three
MORGAN
I woke in the cold, to pitch-black darkness.
Am I dead?
I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t standing, that was for sure. But I wasn’t lying down
either. In fact, I felt like I was floating…
I could barely breathe. Something was crushing me, pressing in on my lungs from both sides. I reached out to feel for it, but I couldn’t do that either. I no longer had arms.
Panic flooded through me. Eventually I calmed down enough to realize I did have arms, they were just pinned to my sides. I wriggled away at them, pulling hard. One popped free and I felt around.
Snow. All around me, nothing but darkness and cold and snow.
You’re underground.
I blinked hard. It didn’t make sense.
You’ve been buried... by the avalanche.
My panic turned to terror. I had to get out! Had to claw my way back to the surface, before I ran out of air!
Calm the fuck down, Morgan!
I tried taking a deep breath, only that was impossible. Most of my body was embedded in the snow. Slowly, painfully, I freed my other arm. My jacket was gone, but I still had my shirt. There was snow up my back. Down my ski pants…
My ski pants!
Reaching down, I managed to unzip my left pocket. Carefully I pulled out my phone, swiped it open, and the pitch-black darkness was shattered by light.
I was in a small circular pocket of space, surrounded on all sides by snow. My body — thankfully whole from what I could tell — was embedded firmly against one wall.
Sticking out of the snow, a few inches from my face, was one of my ski-poles. It had missed my eye by inches.
“Fuck…” I breathed.
Hoping against hope, I checked my phone’s screen. Of course I had no signal. No way to call for help.
Dig.
It seemed absurd, but it was also my only option. My only viable one anyway.
Dig yourself out.
