An Assassin's Destiny: A Reverse Harem Series (The Huntress Series Book 3)

by A. K. Koonce

  Then I feel it. The power that rips through the room and the way my arms move without my consent, raising above my head until I’m forced to lift up on my tiptoes to lessen the pressure. I feel something hard through the soft binding against my wrists, and then Rory’s power disappears, and I’m still stretched out. I teeter there, alone, at the center of the room for several passing seconds.

  I try to peer past the fabric keeping my vision dark, but it’s useless. Tylin’s fully incapacitated me, and I hear his hum of approval as I shift on my toes.

  “Fuck, she looks hot like that,” Jameson growls, and I feel the slight tickle of his body brushing lightly against mine as he moves closer behind me. Warmth burns between us. Then, a set of large hands are on my body, pushing my shirt and bra up to pool above my breasts, until I know I’m as bare before them as I can be. My nipples stand on end, pebbled from the cold as much as the dominant situation I’m in. I’ve always been an equal in sex, and being trussed up and submissive is a new adventure that I’m about to dive head first into.

  Every sense I have is enhanced as I try to listen and feel and anticipate what’s about to happen next. And I know that’s exactly what Tylin wants. Me, helpless, and at his mercy. Him in control.

  It’s pure sensual intoxication.

  The light calluses on Jameson’s palms abrade my breasts as he cups them in his hands, weighing them, squeezing, and tweaking my nipples. Pleasure slashes through me, heading straight for my clit as his friends watch.

  Breath heaves in and out my lungs through parted lips, while I try to keep myself balanced with only Jameson’s warm chest behind me for support. Spreading my legs seems to be the only way to stop incessantly shifting, and as soon as I settle, Jameson’s palm cups my sex.

  “That’s ours, Alexa.” Tylin’s low voice cuts through my haze. “We own that pretty little pussy.”

  Jameson’s finger slowly glides up my sex, teasing before slipping closer to where I need him the most, but he avoids it, making me a breathy, panting mess in his arms.

  Another set of footsteps thud on the stairs and I tense, trying to figure out if someone is coming or going. When I hear the door open at the top, I realize someone left us in the basement, and disappointment cuts through my heart like a knife through butter. What the hell?

  “What’s happening? Who left?” I demand, but my tone hints at my desperation to know more.

  “Trust, Alexa,” Tylin replies, with a gentler note.

  His words challenge m, and I take a deep breath. “I do.” And it’s true. I do trust Tylin. I trust Mason, Rory, and Jameson too. I don’t know when it happened, but they’ve slowly won me over since that first night, and now I more than trust them. I love them.

  And this show? It’s just one more way I can tell them with my actions rather than my words. I let myself fall into Tylin’s game, and I know he feels the shift in the air as clearly as I do.

  He growls, and it’s full of possessive approval.

  Jameson’s hand, which had stilled, gets back to work, circling my clit before finally flicking over it and making me cry out. My body shakes from the intensity of the pleasure when he repeats the move over and over again.

  “Fuck her with your fingers, Jameson,” Tylin orders, and I can imagine him standing in front of me—the tension in his shoulders, and the long hardness pressing against the front of the jeans that Tylin so rarely wears.

  The rest of my thoughts are stolen straight from my head as Jameson’s long fingers pump into me, easing into my the slickness he’s earned with his teasing. A moan gushes past my lips as his other hand settles onto my stomach. His fingers splay wide, holding my hanging body against his more firmly. The light scruff lining his jaw is rough against my cheek and neck as he leans over me. His hardness grinds against the curve of my ass and lower back as his fingers pick up the pace. Those thick fingers fill me just right as I grind against his palm the best I can, and when he curls them into my g-spot, I spiral tight.

  Until the doorway opens again with a sharp squeal that needs to be fixed, and I hear someone coming down to the basement again. I tense, and it’s enough to stall my orgasm.

  Growling my own frustration, I try to listen to what’s happening, enjoying the slow play of Jameson’s fingers. He never stopped fucking me, and I don’t think he intends to stop enjoying the slow play of my pleasure. But then he releases me, and I sway until I get my footing again. My warmed body cools, but the sudden change of temperature only heightens my senses.

  And then he’s in front of me, his hands hooking the back of my thighs as he hauls me up to wrap my legs around his waist. I hang there before him, just our hips meeting like we fit so perfectly in best way possible. The tension holding my arms eases, but I can’t lower them to hold onto Jameson’s strong shoulders.

  “You have to trust that he’s got you,” Tylin demands. “Just like you need to trust that we all have you and your best interests at heart. We’ll always protect you, Alexa.”

  “I-I know.” Despite the high, awkward angle of my arms, I release the tension from my body and trust Jameson. He aligns us and I realize he’s pushed his pants down. The smooth glide of his dick along my center makes me groan. His silky skin teases over my clit and I arch into him.

  One of my other men steps up to my back and I try to focus through the haze Jameson’s created to figure out which one it is.

  His large frame gives Rory away moments before his rough hands would have. Out of all the guys, Rory’s hands are the least smooth, but I love the way his palms glide down my back from my shoulders to the curve of my ass before both hands grip my hips. His thumbs massage into my ass, each circular motion pulling my cheeks slightly apart. Then they dip deeper and deeper, each massage causing me to writhe into Jameson who grunts, as I nearly impale myself on his cock.

  “I believe she enjoys that,” Mason muses, and his voyeuristic ways only make my pussy clench sadly around nothing.

  Jameson’s grip tightens on my thighs, and I know he’s ready to sink inside of my body.

  “Not yet,” Tylin orders, just as I feel Rory’s thumb press against my back entrance, circling in the slowest way.

  I throw my head back on an openmouthed cry that’s somewhere between a plea and a prayer.

  “Fuck, she likes that,” Jameson murmurs and shifts me, reaching around to grip my ass for Rory and hold my cheeks apart.

  Something cold and slick coats my ass as Rory plays his fingers over me in an illicit way. With the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard, Rory presses something cool against my entrance and presses. The lube he rubbed over me helps the toy I know he has in his hand ease inside of me. I tense from the intrusion and Rory soothes a hand down my back again, petting my skin as I breath through the new sensation.

  “Easy.” His voice sounds like he swallowed a handful of gravel. The rasp lights me on fire and I arch first into Jameson, and then back into the toy, rocking slowly as he eases it another inch into my body. Then another. And another.

  Moans sound around the room, echoing off the cinderblock, when the plug is seated. Then, it’s my time to groan as the sting eases into an addicting pleasure pain that I never knew existed.

  Jameson’s hands shift again, holding me up and lining the head of his cock at my entrance. Inch by inch he sinks his cock into my body, fighting for room with the plug that makes me incredibly tight against this impossible thickness.

  I’m a mess of cries and pants as he slides to the hilt only to pull back again and slam me down on his cock.

  “That’s right. Take all of him, Alexa,” Tylin praises from somewhere in the room, and I feel the tangible weight of my men’s gazes as I fuck their friend. It drives me higher, making my wanton need spiral to an all time high.

  “Fuck me, Jameson!” My begging request is bold and frantic, and I’m not sure I can hold on much longer. Reaching up with one hand, he rips the blindfold off of my face and I see the needy way he looks at me as I cant my hips into his.

 
Jameson must feel it too, because he picks up the pace, pounding me onto him in a fast rhythm, the colliding of our bodies the only sound in the room other than our labored breathing as we both reach for our orgasms.

  I feel the way he swells inside of me, and every stroke he thrusts into me hits just right. The toy filling me sparks pleasure from areas I never knew felt so damn good, and then I’m lost, falling over the cliff and diving headfirst into the bliss of Jameson’s body and the watching eyes of the men around the room.

  “Fuck,” Jameson groans as he plummets after me, filling me as he comes.

  “Oh, God!” I add my own cry to Jameson’s.

  I hear that hum of approval from Tylin and the mirrored groans from Mason. Cracking my eyes open, I watch as Mason’s hand matches Jameson’s pace, and I enjoy the view of him losing himself to his own self-inflicted pleasure as the aftershocks of my orgasm ripple through me. Those dark eyes never close for me, his shoulders stiffening hard just before thick come slides across his knuckles.

  Then I glance to Rory’s heated eyes. Watching. Just watching with hooded, wanting eyes.

  Fuck, I want him.

  All of them.

  But him so much since he holds me so far away sometimes.

  And then there’s Tylin. The way he gazes at me with praise filling his steely grey eyes makes my heart lighter.

  Walking toward me, he reaches out and brushes a thumb across the curve of my cheek, trailing down the corner of my lips in a sweet caress. “We trust each other. Understood?”

  I can only bring myself to nod, but it seems to be enough.

  Jameson sets me down gently, redoing his jeans while Tylin glances to Rory, giving him the silent instruction to use his powers to unhook my tether from where it’s been secured to a metal piece hanging down from the ceiling.

  His power shakes through the room, and then the blood is rushing back down my arms and into my hands, while Tylin cuts me free with a pocket knife he whipped out of his pocket.

  “Always armed, hmm?” I arch a brow at him.

  “This little thing?” He wiggles it through the air in front of him but grins.

  “If anyone could kill someone with a dinky pocket knife, it’d be you.” I shake my arms out, and Mason steps forward after cleaning himself up with the remains of his shirt to inspect my wrists, making sure no damage was done during our sex session. “The um… plug?” I go to reach for it but Tylin catches my wrist.

  “It stays,” he replies with a molten stare, which heats my blood all over again.

  “You want me to wear it?”

  “Mmm,” he hums his answer.

  Oh.

  Smirking, I shrug and move toward Rory, holding out my hand as the guys gape and stare after me.

  “I thought she was going to put up more of a fight than that,” Mason comments, pressing his glasses up his nose.

  “It’s fucking sexy as hell.” Rory’s watchful eyes follow me, and I smile sweetly at him as he stares at my hand. “What?”

  “I need your shirt.” I blink big doe eyes up at him. “There’s no way I’m squeezing my ass back into those pants,” I point to the pile of my clothing on the floor, “while I’m coated in Jameson. So unless you want me to walk naked through the mansion to get to the shower, hand it over, big guy.”

  Without any further complaint, he strips his shirt over his head and hands it to me. I glance from Rory’s broad chest to Mason’s, and having both of them walking around shirtless steals all the remaining brain cells left in my head, I swear.

  The smell of Rory surrounds me as I pull it over my nude body, hiding the view from my men.

  Sashaying my way to the stairs, every move I make a pulsing reminder of my recent release, I start to climb, but then I pause.

  “Tylin,” I call, peering over the banister to where he’s watching me. “What did you mean you’d strip other assassins?” It’s the last question I need an answer to.

  Sighing, Tylin drops his crossed arms and pushes a hand through his dark hair. “We’ve got a lot of enemies, Alexa. Not everyone is going to be alright with our new way of doing things, and you know that there are dangerous assassins banning together to try and reform the League, with new management. They don’t know what they’re doing, and their missions? They’re wrong… based on nothing but bloodlust. If they move against us, or if it becomes necessary to put an end to the League’s reign of terror once and for all, I’d like to know that we have an option other than more death on our side. It’s a precaution, and something I’d like to speak to Archer about. There are worse things than losing our powers.”

  I nod. “I don’t like it, but I understand it.” It’s the best answer I can give right now.

  “I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” Tylin’s tone actually does sound disappointed. In himself. In the world. It makes my heart catch in my chest.

  He’s had too much disappointment in his life. He deserves happiness.

  “You’re just trying to make our city a better place,” I soothe and offer him a gentle smile. “And I truly believe you’re the only one who can.” I hope he sees the truth reflected in my gaze. Turning, I jog up the steps, but Tylin’s next murmur swirls through the air toward me even as I leave them all behind.

  “I’m just trying to keep her safe and give us a future,” he tells them. His words steal the breath from my lungs, and as I open the door and leave the basement, entering reality again, it’s with a smile on my lips.

  Ten

  Daddy Issues

  Tormenting dreams claw at me, sinking so deep into my mind that I physically feel the dragging fear of the images flickering through my head. It’s the one person I shouldn’t have to be afraid of.

  It’s my father.

  As he lies dead beneath me, just as he did that night, but then his eyes flash open.

  A smile curves his lips. They part to speak, to say something of the utmost importance.

  And then I wake in a sweat of panic and hammering heartbeats.

  With curious, brown eyes staring down on me.

  I push at the blankets until a foot of space separates me from Mars, who’s sitting at the edge of my bed.

  Watching me in silence.

  My fingers fist, reacting naturally to being woken by a stranger looming over me like the fucking prince of darkness.

  “W-what are you doing, Mars?”

  His face changes in the moonlight, shifting from curious to blatant confusion. The way his features shift in such a forced way is unnerving.

  It sets me even further on edge. Prickling, gnawing adrenaline spirals through me, demanding me to lash out at him.

  But it’s all for nothing.

  “Scarlett wont talk to me,” he sulks.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  Days of Our Lives is continuing.

  “Did you really wake me up like a creep in the night to talk about your love life?”

  “You think I’m creepy?” he whispers.

  Uh, hello, Mr. Crawls-Right-Into-My-Bed-At-The-Stroke-Of-Midnight-To-Watch-Me-Fucking-Sleep.

  “No,” I say instead, my voice rising to an unbelievable pitch.

  I glance over at the rest of the big, and noticeably empty, king-size bed. Only tangled covers keep me company on the enormous mattress.

  The guys must still be working downstairs.

  “Scar kind of said the same thing. I don’t know.” His palm massages the back of his neck and I look from him, still sitting too close for comfort, to my friend, sleeping in the bed across from mine.

  How on earth did he convince Scarlett to sleep with him?

  He’s sweet. Really, he is. Gentle by nature, it seems. He’s not bad looking either.

  He’s just…different. Very, very different.

  But then I remember how he was there for Jameson. How he healed him, and I soften a little.

  “I think you’re just a little misunderstood. I’ve been there.” I have. Really. “The guys and me didn’t exactly ge
t off the right foot.” Under-fucking-statement of the year.

  “Really?” he asks astoundedly.

  I know. With all this personality, it’s hard to believe someone not liking me. Tell me about it.

  “You and I are alike in that way.” His golden eyes seem lost in thought, and I almost feel bad for him.

  He’s alone here. Scarlett’s avoiding both him and Vale. And the guy is just too damn quiet to really figure out how to turn things around.

  “Just talk to her,” I tell him softly, my palm lifting to comfort him but then pulling back as I think better of it.

  Okay, call me a hypocrite, but he’s still lurking at the side of my fucking bed.

  Call it bad vibes, but women don’t like weird men in their beds.

  They just don’t.

  “I have to get up kinda early.” I motion like I might roll over and go back to sleep, but I also don’t turn my back on him.

  “Right, sorry.” He nods, his smile weak, and a little sad, a little worried.

  Guilt and pity tangles inside my stomach.

  As he gets up and trails back to his own room and his own bed, I want to reassure him it’ll all work out. But honestly, he needs a lot of help. A lot more help than someone like me can offer him.

  I glance at Scarlett once more, to find her bright eyes watching me in silence. Before she turns, rolls over, and goes to sleep.

  If I asked my friend what on earth is going on with her and these men, would she tell me?

  There’s only one way to find out. First thing in the morning, her and I are going to have a talk.

  Because, now I can’t fucking sleep without wondering if I’m going to wake up to her boy problems twirling my hair and crying about their love lives.

  I’m still mentally preparing my speech for Scarlett when the warm sunlight starts to drift through the big windows…

  And then I doze off to sleep.

  She’s alone when I stalk up on her in the bathroom. Long red hair hangs in wet waves down to the curve of her ass, and I don’t even hesitate despite her being in her bra and underwear.