Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

by Laura Greenwood

  Cool fingers landed on my breast, surrounding my nipple and blocking it from view. Lifting my eyes, I found Adam staring intently at my breast. He’d taken off his doctor coat before sitting and rolling up his sleeves, thus giving me the perfect view to see how tense the muscles on his forearms were.

  I bit my lip again. I needed the pain to keep me focused. His pinkie slid under his others to swipe across my nipple. Other times he’d accidentally touched it, we’d both stiffened and backed away. But not this time.

  He did it again. And again. There was no way it was accidental. My nipple stiffened into a hard peak. His finger continued to tease. I bit down again to stifle a moan. My head tipped back and my eyes closed. It was the strangest sensation. I was tense and yet relaxed as I let him strum the strings of my hormones.

  “That’s it.” His voice was low enough for only the two of us, but he couldn’t hide the roughness to it. “Now, you’re relaxed nicely.”

  My eyes popped open to meet his dark gaze. His eyes more black than green.

  His finger continued to slowly brush across and around my nipple, driving me nuts, while he taped the tube to my breast.

  I vaguely overheard one of the students asking why Adam was doing the taping instead of the nurse. There were a few quiet chuckles, and I missed what the nurse replied. But whatever she said stopped the chuckles.

  “All done. We just need to prime the line and attach Chloe.” He pushed himself away, letting go of my breast, but only dropping his hand as far as my lap.

  The nurse stepped forward to examine his handiwork before backing up and allowing the others to see. She primed the line until a drop of milk landed on the top of my nipple. “This way we can see how she likes it while still trying to latch on. We’ll keep the clamp on until she’s comfortable. To help, we’re using the smallest tube so that Chloe will only receive dribbles instead of a mouthful. We want her to enjoy feeding, not be scared of it.”

  We all nodded. Adam’s actions relaxed me enough so that I no longer grew tense as the students stepped closer.

  Adam stood. With a pat to my thigh, he moved to Chloe’s bassinet and lifted her into his arms. They cleared a path to my front for him while one enterprising student decided to sit in his empty seat. He cleared his throat and glared until the student stood.

  The nurse and I shared a look and attempted to keep from laughing. But my heart warmed with the idea of Adam’s possessiveness and protectiveness. If I was going to attempt this, I needed him at my side, encouraging me.

  He placed Chloe into my waiting arms. “Just like normal except we want her to latch on immediately instead of rooting for it.”

  I nodded my understanding. Taking a deep breath, I moved her into position and waited.

  Chloe opened her mouth the minute my nipple brushed her lips. But when it landed on her tongue, she recoiled and whimpered. My heart raced. This isn’t working. She’s not going to do it. I’m a failure. My eyes darted between the nurse and Adam.

  His hand gripped my thigh, pulling me from the beginnings of my meltdown. “Remember, Kayla. This is what we expected. It’s why we put a drop of milk on your nipple.” The calmness and steadfastness of his voice did as much for me as his words. Each syllable was a caress on my skin.

  A tug on my nipple pulled my eyes from where they’d melted into his. The corners of my lips lifted and relief flooded my system. Chloe was sucking, actually sucking, on my nipple even with the tube and the taste of the breast milk.

  I lifted my eyes to meet Adam’s soft, awe filled gaze. “She’s doing it. Really doing it,” I whispered for just us.

  “She is. I knew it would work. You’re a natural, love.”

  The students and the nurse murmured around us. Their hum surrounded us, but never penetrated the bubble I felt the three of us were in. It was like we were our own little family. Like the ones I watched enviously around me day in and day out in the NICU while I was alone with Chloe. At that moment, Kris and Ryan were only hazy blips in the distance. How could they be anything but when I had the most amazing man staring at me with love shining from his eyes? But it wasn’t just me he stared at, he included Chloe. And my heart melted.

  Why was I waiting? It was obvious we were meant to be together. Life was too short. People stayed for only a short time before disappearing. So, why wait? I needed to jump at the chance, at the offering before me.

  I opened my mouth. “I love you.”

  His eyes darkened. A smile stretched across his face. He leaned in, capturing my eyes with his. “I love you, too, Kayla.”

  The nurse cleared her throat before asking Adam to read off the amount of milk left in the hanging container.

  “Later,” he mouthed. Turning back to the students, he informed the nurse of the amount Chloe had ingested.

  Her sucking began to slow. The nurse suggested we unlatch her and attempt to burp her. I stared at the nurse with wide eyes. Wasn’t Chloe too tiny, too fragile for something like that?

  The nurse chuckled. “Just rub her back with small circles as she lies across your lap on her tummy. Or you can hold her against your shoulder. She won’t break, Kayla.” The nurse smiled, reassuring as if she knew she’d guessed my fear. “She’s a strong little girl.”

  Complying, I lifted Chloe to my shoulder while listening to the nurse and Adam discuss the steps going forward. Chloe hadn’t drunk enough for a full feeding, but they were pleased with her results. It would still be a long process and Chloe would continue to need to be fed through the tube in her nose, but it was a start on her road to discharge.

  Discharge.

  The idea of leaving the NICU, of leaving Adam, had my heart racing. Of course it needed to happen at some point. I knew that. But I’d never given much thought to it. I’d been living day to day, hour by hour, and sometimes minute to minute in this place. But discharge… it was a whole new ball game.

  Adam’s fingers gripped my thigh before loosening to stroke along my rigid muscles. “Don’t worry,” he mouthed while the students and nurse continued their discussions.

  He was correct. Worrying wouldn’t get me anywhere. What was going to happen would happen whether I wanted it to or not. And until that time, I could enjoy my time with Adam.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next two weeks passed in a whirlwind. Between schoolwork, attempting to supplemental breastfeed Chloe every two to three hours around the clock, and carving out time with Adam, I was running myself ragged. It didn’t help that my breasts continued to swell and ache. Sometimes the pain was enough that I wanted to scream. Other times it made me want to curl into a ball off in some corner alone. But either way I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think there was anything they could do since Chloe still refused every attempt to wean her onto a bottle.

  The only good thing, the thing that removed the pain far from my mind was Adam. Since telling him that I loved him and him me, our time together became more precious. Our kisses contained a new flavor, a new earnestness to them. And we weren’t just kissing!

  Things never went far—there just wasn’t the time—but our hands no longer stayed chaste. They roamed. Initially it was all over our clothing, but it quickly morphed into under our shirts as well.

  But as my breasts became larger and the pain intensified, Adam’s fingers became my own personal heaven and hell.

  “Kayla.” Adam’s voice sounded at the same time a light rap on the bathroom door jamb occurred.

  I lifted my head from the sink, a toothbrush hanging from my mouth as I stared. And stared. And stared.

  I seen Adam once before fresh from a shower without a shirt on. But that had been at his apartment, back when I’d first met him. I’d admired his chest, his physique then, but it had been from a distance. Now, it stood only feet from my eyes.

  Normally, he showered in the locker room if needed. Like before we left to go out for supper. But today had been different. He’d showered in the empty bathroom from the room next door. They’d had to perform an
emergency procedure on new admission. Something had happened—a blood bag got cut or something—and a number of staff ended up covered in blood. Not everyone could leave the floor to change and shower so Adam was one who’d opted to shower and change into hospital scrubs using the bathrooms on the floor.

  His eyes sparkled as he leaned against the door jam. His arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps pop. An old trail of water from his damp hair snaked across his muscles, shining in the light. As I watched, another trail began.

  I licked my lips. Or attempted to when I ran into the toothbrush. Oh my gosh. My cheeks burned. I dropped my head to the sink, embarrassed, but then didn’t know what to do. Did I spit? Did I motion for him to leave? Could I actually finish brushing my teeth with him standing there? I wanted to cry.

  “I brought my toothbrush but didn’t have toothpaste. Can I borrow some of yours?”

  I nodded and used my elbow to point to it. His footsteps sounded closer. I held my breath. They stopped behind me. The heat from his body warmed mine through my sleepwear. His arm snaked around me, holding his toothbrush under the stream of running water. His other arm surrounded me on the far side and grabbed the toothpaste.

  Okay. So we were doing this. We were going to share a sink. Brush our teeth together. The fact he completed every move without hesitation, as if it was a normal everyday occurrence, steadied my nerves. I. Can. Do. This.

  I pulled my toothbrush from my mouth, bent over further, and spit. Holding my toothbrush under the water, I stood and looked straight into Adam’s sparkling eyes in the mirror.

  A grin split my face. I lifted the toothbrush to my mouth and began to brush again while he brushed his.

  Intimate. That’s what it was. What it felt like. My heart melted. This was something I could get used to. Only the slightest of brushes occurred between us, but I could feel every movement he made deep into my core. I’d never experienced anything like it.

  “Thanks.” He placed his toothbrush next to mine and turned off the water.

  I spun to face him. But he was so close. Closer than I’d realized. My cotton covered chest dragged against his naked one. I gasped. His nostrils flared. The tips of my nipples beaded into hard points.

  “Kayla,” he breathed as his lips slammed across mine.

  I was lost. Drowning in a sea of hormones and need. His tongue swept its way into my mouth. Forcing. Taking. Whatever it needed. But it wasn’t selfish. For what it took, it gave back to me in spades. My knees trembled. My head spun. I was dying to breathe, but I didn’t want to stop.

  His hands grabbed the hem of my shirt. The backs of his fingers brushed the skin along my waist. Goosebumps erupted.

  He stepped forward, pinning my hips between his and the sink.

  His lips left mine to trail across my cheek. Down my neck. Each lift of his lips punctuated with a word. “Lift.” Nip. “Your.” Lick. “Arms.” Kiss. “Up.” He sucked my earlobe into his mouth.

  I struggled to catch my breath. Each touch of his lips, his tongue, his teeth, made me forget what I was doing.

  The room spun. I didn’t know what he said. I couldn’t understand. All I could do was feel. And what exquisite feeling it was.

  His hands let go of my shirt. They traced down my arms, leaving a trail of fire behind. Wrapping his fingers in mine, he lifted until they were over my head. “Keep them here.” He dropped his hands back to my waist. And suddenly, my shirt was climbing my body.

  He leaned back at his waist. His eyes dropping to where my hem had lifted enough to reveal my bellybutton. “I can’t wait to slide my tongue in there.”

  His words were like pouring gas on a fire. The immediate whoosh of lust left me breathless and eager for the very thing he mentioned.

  My shirt continued to climb higher. My chest heaved. His eyes never moved. Something coiled itself tighter inside me.

  The seam of the hem slid across my nipples and I cried out from both pain and the feeling of pleasure.

  His sucked in his breath. But his eyes jumped to mine with the cry. “What’s wrong?”

  “N-n-nothing.”

  “Kayla.” He whipped my shirt over my head, dropped it to the floor, and pulled my hands down. His fingers entwined with mine. “Talk to me, love. What’s wrong?”

  I hated myself. I’d killed the mood. It seemed like I was forever doomed to be doing something to make men stop when I wanted nothing more for them to carry on. Dropping my eyes to where his erection continued to rest against me, I mumbled something about my breasts hurting.

  He brought my hands to his waist before releasing them. His fingertips slowly trailed their way up to the underside of my breasts. As they moved higher, my breaths shallowed. Maybe all wasn’t lost. It certainly didn’t feel like his hardness was losing any rigidity.

  “How’s this?” He cupped my breasts, ensuring not to touch the nipples.

  “G-good.”

  “And this?” His fingers began a sensual massage.

  My eyes closed and my shoulders dropped as I relaxed into the magic of his hands.

  His fingers moved in circles, tugging and pulling. Each movement slowly growing closer to my aching nipples. But now they were aching for a different reason. They were begging to be touched.

  His thumbs stroked across my pointed tips. My knees buckled. If he hadn’t had me pinned, I would have fallen.

  He did it again. I bit my lip.

  His hands began again from the edges of my breasts, stroking toward the nipple.

  The feelings in tummy—the flutter I often felt—jumped. I had no choice but to obey. My hips moved in a rhythm to that feeling.

  “Fuck, Kayla.” He basically growled at me. His hips grew more forceful in their attempt to hold me still. But all it did was drive his hard length tighter into the spot I wanted.

  “Please Adam.” I begged. I was so needy. I wanted something, but I didn’t know what. Either way, I wasn’t above begging, even generic begging, if it brought me whatever it was that my body cried out for.

  His thumbs brushed my nipples again and again. Each time stronger than the last. His hips rocked into mine. I climbed higher and higher. This was what I need, what my body called for.

  His thumbs, no, his hands grabbed my breasts and pulled hard until my nipples were squeezed between all his fingers. He rammed the tip of his erection into my clit.

  I shattered.

  I cried out, but his mouth covered mine. This. This was what my body had been calling for, craving. My chest heaved. I struggled to breathe as he slowed his movements against me, easing me down.

  And then I felt it.

  The wetness.

  Except it was where it wasn’t supposed to be. Looking down, I stared, horrified and humiliated. I’d just had what I assumed to be an amazing orgasm and somehow I was leaking from my breasts.

  Leaking? No. Spraying. Liquid sprayed against Adam’s chest. It took me a moment and then I realized… milk. I was spraying milk all over him.

  My cheeks burned. My eyes stung with the need to cry.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” Hands cradled my cheeks. “This is a good thing.” His hands slid through my hair. He pulled me into his chest and one of his arms dropped to press against my back, holding me tight.

  My chest shook as I panted. I kept trying to inhale and exhale at the same time which didn’t work. And being tight against his body didn’t help matters. Each movement of his chest brushed my sensitive nipples across his. Milk continue to leak. It became a vicious circle. My own personal hell.

  His lips landed on the top of my head. “Seriously, Kayla. This is good news.” He pulled my head back from his chest. His lips pressed kisses along my forehead, my brows, and even my nose. “And”—his eyes twinkled—”I’m sure you’re not in as much pain, now.”

  I coughed, choking on his words. What? But then I took stock of my body. He was right. Outside of the pain from my humiliation, I felt amazing. My breasts no longer ached. My muscles and even my bones felt like mush.
Under my embarrassment, I beamed. Awe. Joy. Excitement. They were just some of the feelings that overwhelmed me.

  “Am I right?”

  “Y-yes.” My eyes dropped briefly to where my chest was pressed against his. The milk on his chest hidden below. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything.”

  A thumb stroke across my cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything. I don’t care about a little milk on me. In fact, this might be a little cavemanish of me, but I like that I was able to do this to you.”

  I didn’t know how he was always able to do it, but his streak continued. He took a horrible situation and made me feel better. Chuckling, I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you. You always make things better.”

  “I do try.” He winked and then seared my lips with another mind blowing kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chloe squirmed when the cooler air hit her bare bottom after I wiped it. Her face screwed up into a weird smile, and I could imagine the giggle that should have sounded if she hadn’t been born so early. The sight had me gnawing on my lip. She had such a pretty smile. One that never failed to melt hearts, but this one was different, new.

  The bottom dropped from my stomach. After seventeen weeks spent taking care of her, I fastened a new diaper on her tiny bottom without any thought. Instead, my brain focused on the new Chloe lying before me. The one without any tubes, lines, or any other medical equipment except for the apnea monitor. But that too would come off before I picked her up for her next feed.

  Lifting her into my arms, I carried her over to our recliner. Although it wasn’t going to be ours for much longer. With all the tubes gone, it would soon be time for Chloe to be discharged. Not that they’d actually said that to me, but I knew the signs from watching other babies celebrating their “graduation” over our time in the NICU.

  I relaxed into the groove I’d made in the back of the chair and adjusted my gown. It felt strange to be latching Chloe to my breast without having gathered all the supplies for the supplemental system.