The Corner House: A Reverse Harem

by Daisy Jane

  In a way, I think I may owe migraines a great big thank you. After all, if I didn’t have them, I may still be stuck with Death-Grip Brett living an orgasm-free vanilla existence.

  And no matter what anybody tells you, no one’s first choice is vanilla. Ever.

  Eli and I walk everyone out and head back to the kitchen to clean up. We always cook and clean up together, or trade off. Brenda really did good with him because he is the most capable, respectful man I’ve met. He will make a good Daddy.

  One day.

  “That was really big of you to hear out Brynn upstairs,” Eli says, sliding his hand under my t-shirt, his fingers traveling up my spine with just the right amount of pressure that makes me whine. His lips are at the back of my ear, hips pushing into my backside, pinning me to the sink. “I’m proud of you,” he rumbles and my chest quivers, my nipples going hard.

  “Yeah?” I breathe out as I turn my head to the side. He takes my jaw with his lips and kisses a trail down to the side of my neck. Heat floods to my seam as his hand pushes down the front of my jeans, over my panties. He curls his fingers into my slit, my arousal soaking the cotton of my underwear.

  “Oh, you feel happy to see me,” he teases me, dipping his fingers in and out of me through the fabric, my clit thrumming hard for his touch. My hips push forward, desperate to trap his hand against me. I can feel his cock thicken at my back. Fuck, this never gets old.

  Eli withdrawals his hand from my seam and spins me to face him. Weaving his fingers through my hair, he holds the back of my head and slants his mouth over mine. Knowing me, he smiles against my mouth and lets one foot slide forward, giving me his thigh. I straddle him, holding him by the shirt at his chest, and start to grind myself against him. He’s so much bigger than me that I can nearly ride his thigh and still have to reach up to kiss him. I love how big he is.

  “No, no, no,” he says, “you’re not getting off like this.” With one skilled hand, he reaches forward and unbuttons my jeans and in another quick motion, he tugs them down with my panties. Stepping a few times until they’re no longer banded at my ankles, I kick them aside. Eli wastes no time in taking me by the hips and putting me on the kitchen island.

  “Lay back,” he commands and I do it. I do it because Eli going down on me is intense. It’s always so fucking intense. I have, on one occasion, even blacked out.

  His tongue drifts gently up my seam, with barely any pressure, teasing me. I try and raise my hips to take friction from his mouth but his hands pin my hips down.

  “Stay put,” he advises in a gravelly, throaty tone.

  He nibbles up my labia and licks my clit, only to repeat the process on the other side.

  “Fuck, Eli,” I moan, staring up at the can lights in the kitchen. This isn’t the first time Eli has, as he likes to call it, “have dessert” on the kitchen island. “That feels so good.”

  He drags his tongue up my slit again, this time stopping at my swollen clit to trace it with the tip of his tongue. Slow, intentional circles around it, driving me insane, making me claw at his shoulders and whimper. Then he grabs my ankles and pulls me down, swooping me off the counter before I know what had happened.

  “What? Where are we going?” I ask breathlessly into his neck. I inhale, never having enough of his scent.

  “To the bed. You’re sitting on my face.”

  “What?” We had never done that. We’d done a lot of oral; we’ve had a lot of sex in a lot of places, but I’ve never yet been that brave.

  “You are sitting that pretty fucking pussy on my face and I am tasting you until you’re screaming my name, got it?” he asks, but I know it’s not really a question. This is happening.

  Before I know it, we’re upstairs, and Eli’s tossed me into the center of his bed.

  His bed is where we’ve slept together every night ever since we became a couple. It’s our bed really but neither of us have had the guts to say it.

  He takes off his clothes as I pull my shirt off, unclasping my bra too. We pause for a moment, taking in one another completely nude. We are nude together more often than not, but still, seeing him freshly stripped always makes me pause. The same goes for him.

  He flops on the bed in the center, grabs me by my hips and pulls me onto his face right away.

  “Oh my god, Eli,” I cry, not knowing if it’s excitement of protest.

  “Ride,” he says into me, as his tongue makes it’s first pass up my wet slit.

  My head tilts back automatically. “Fuck, Eli, that feels so good,” I moan as he seals his mouth over my bud and gently sucks it.

  “Oh my god, Eli, I’ll come too fast if you keep doing that,” I moan, my hips shuddering over the top of him. One of his hands leaves my ass, the other remains and he digs his fingertips in, kneading.

  Our bodies jerk gently with him as he fists and pumps his cock behind where I ride his face. Fuck, knowing he’s stroking himself makes me insane. I’ve always had a thing for watching a man touch himself but to be sitting on his face while he’s doing it? Insanely fucking hot.

  “Eli, Eli, fuck,” I cry out, not wanting this to end but knowing my boyfriend is way too fucking sexy. “Yes, Eli, right there,” I say rolling against his gentle sucking.

  I feel his forearm tighten and relax under my ass as he jerks his cock under me, little groans escaping him, floating into my pussy as he eats me.

  “I’m going to come, Eli,” I tell him, reaching out and taking the headboard to steady myself. And right before I do, I reach back and take his wrist, stilling him from getting himself off.

  “Oh, oh, oh, I’m coming,” I moan, tipping my head forward to see his eyes from underneath me. When the blackness fades and my limbs come alive again, I roll off of him and lay flat on my back, panting.

  “Here,” I tap my belly. Of the sex we’ve had, of the things we’d done, I’d yet to feel his arousal on my skin this way. “Finish on me,” I say, loving how the traces of me glisten on his lips. He gets to his knees between my legs and I watch his hand work his cock from root to tip, moving his palm over the peak of himself, his eyes trained on mine.

  “Fuck, Sloane, you’re so beautiful,” he tilts his head and then that familiar eyelid flutter takes over, and I know he’s close. I reach down between my legs and cup his balls, full and tight, tugging them gently. He groans and I release him, my hands cupping my breasts and pushing them together.

  Leaning forward, he presses the head of him against my belly and we both watch as he comes all over my body. Eruption after eruption, his hot spend spills out of him in quick lines over my core and I love how it feels.

  When he’s done, he fists himself and pants over me, pressing his free hand to his forehead. “Fuck, that was intense.”

  I dip my fingertips into the mess on my belly and bring it to my lips. Licking his release off my fingers, Eli drops his head, eyes dark. “You know that’s fucking sexy, right? Watching you do that?”

  Before I can torture or tease him further, he leaps from the bed and grabs a towel, cleaning me up right away. When he’s done, he takes a spot on the mattress next to me. I love how comfortable he is with me. His cock softens and I stroke my knuckle down his length, then his thigh.

  “I love your body.” I watch lumps of muscle tighten in his torso as he laughs.

  “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” He smooths a hand through his hair. “I love your body, Sloane.”

  He reaches under my breast and gently strokes the sensitive skin, dragging his thumb across my hard nipple. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to it and kisses it softly. “I really fucking do love your body.” He makes a noise in his throat as his hand sweeps across my other breast. “Fuck, baby, I could play with your tits all night.”

  I lick my lips, watching his monstrous hands all over me. It puts need in between my legs, even though he’s just had me.

  “But we should drink water.” He says, pushing off the bed, grabbing his canteen from the night table. “It’s been a few we
eks but it’s important to not get comfortable,” he says, unscrewing the lid, passing the bottle to me. “I think we keep acting like you do get migraines, just so you’re always hydrated and playing it safe.”

  I smile at him. It’s one thing for a guy to go grab your meds when you need them. But Eli has been thinking and planning on getting me better since before we were together. I can’t help but feel like all his care and concern for my health isn’t just behavior from a boyfriend who likes you.

  Maybe, just maybe, Eli loves me too.

  I drink from his canteen and pass it to him. His eyes stay trained on mine while he drinks but I look at his Adam’s apple bob with each big swallow. God I love his neck. Is there a part of him I don’t love?

  “What are you thinking about?” he says, screwing the lid back on.

  “Nothing,” I smile, reaching behind me to set the bottle back down.

  He kisses me, and I study his solid arm as he holds his head up with his palm.

  “Will you come to Trevvor’s with me next week?” His question steals the air from my lungs. My pulse picks up. I blink hard, not wanting to become emotional over the invitation.

  But I know it’s not a simple invitation. I know the invitation to go to his whiskey club with him next week is a big deal. He’s telling me something without having to use the exact words. I bite the corner of my mouth before exhaling, hot and thrilling.

  “Yes.”

  There’s really nothing else I want more.

  Chapter 30

  “Wow, that’s a lot of things to happen in one night,” Brenda smiles sweetly at me from across the cab as we make the thirty-minute drive to the old folks’ home together. I absolutely love spending this time with Eli’s mom and honestly? It feels like she’s become one of my closest friends. I mean, obviously our conversations are more PG and worldly than the girls’ night discussions revolving around whether or not Ben Affleck guilt-cries when he orgasms, but still, we’re close.

  “I felt very taken off-guard when Brynn and Bryan showed up but Eli reassured me that a private conversation with her after all this time was probably a good idea. And he was right.”

  We both have satisfied smiles as we think of our sweet Eli, though the warmth flooding her cheeks is probably warm and fuzzies from raising such a compassionate human whereas the warmth flooding my cheeks is more related to how bad I want him to dick me down the second he walks through the door each evening.

  “It’s completely behind you then?” Brenda asks.

  With how intense the migraines had been, I never told my own mom about the falling out I had with Brynn. I think somewhere deep inside I knew we’d work it out, and I didn’t want her to take on the extra stresses of it all. She worried about me and so did my Dad.

  “Totally. And wow.” I exhale loudly, smiling like a fool. “I’m so happy to be over it. I realized that I overreacted and was oversensitive and she realized she could have handled it better.” I shake my head. “Finally, everything is great. I’m so happy.”

  Brenda smiles gleefully at me. “I’m so happy sweetheart.” Then she takes a sip of the iced tea I brought her before clearing her throat and casting me a wayward glance as our destination comes into view down the road. “Have you told him yet?”

  Smiling, going a bit red, I shake my head. “Not yet.” I bite my lip. “Did he tell you he invited me to Trevvor’s tonight?”

  Brenda parks the car and holds her clenched fists in the air and does a little shake, which makes me laugh. “Yes!” she chants. “We’re headed in the right direction!”

  I laugh and smile. Brenda isn’t shy. She wants grandkids and Eli’s sister, Quinn, is younger which means as of now, Eli is her only hope.

  Nodding, I agree. “I think we are. We’ll see.”

  “Maybe tonight?” she lifts a brow. “Maybe tonight you’ll tell him how you feel.”

  I shake my head no, staunchly. “No way. I hear him talk about Trevvor’s and the events, the crew there. It’s important to him. And after his ex made that scene… I just want him to know that I realize what it means to him. I want tonight to be about him doing his thing.” I pull my purse over my shoulder. “I’m just glad I get to see him in his element.”

  Brenda smiles sweetly, how she usually does. “That’s very sweet, Sloane, and that’s why Eli’s dad and I just adore you. You know that?”

  I do know, but being adored by your boyfriend’s mother is something I can’t get enough of.

  I had no clue that Eli wore suits when he went to his tastings. Honestly, I didn’t know they were formal events. But as we linger outside the dry cleaners, a white garment bag draped over Eli’s arm, I start to get butterflies in my stomach.

  I didn’t have a lot of time to get a nice dress, so I borrowed one from Abbie. She’s tall and thin and I’m medium height with soft curves, but still, somehow, the strapless cream-colored dress fits perfect.

  “How’s it look? Let me see,” Abbie says through FaceTime. I prop the phone up against the mirror and take a few steps back, turning sideways to check out my profile. “Damn, girl. See? That dress was like a tube top on me. It’s perfect on you.”

  I am not the girl who tosses the word “perfect” around while describing her own appearance, but damn if this dress doesn’t fit like a frickin’ glove.

  “It’s so pretty,” I say, smoothing my hands over the lace-covered fabric.

  Strapless isn’t usually a look I go for because it often makes my big breasts look like a big roll. But this dress has detailed beading sloping in the shape of a v at the top, helping define two separate breasts under the fabric. Just a few inches above my knee, it really hugs my curves in a way that makes me feel sexy. It is fancy enough for the tasting but not so fancy that it couldn’t be paired with flats and a cute denim jacket for wine-tasting or something equally innocuous on the weekends.

  “Free People,” Abbie says, “I knew when I bought it that I’d probably never wear it. It was an impulse buy. I was feeling bad about myself.”

  I know the feeling all too well. That’s why I have three pairs of Jessica Simpson pumps in my closet that I’d never worn. Maybe tonight’s the night.

  “What shoes?” she asks, and then I see Mike in the background. I shout to him through the FaceTime.

  “Hi Mike!”

  A moment later Devers appears, and I’ll never get over how much of a big teddy bear he is, and how unexpected it is that Abbie would end up with him. I always pictured her with a tall, thin guy like herself. But as she wraps her arms around his core and she presses her face into his chest, I see how unbelievably happy she is. I’m sure no one thought I’d end up with a tattooed burly man like Eli, either.

  “Excited for tonight?” Mike asks, smoothing his hand down Abbie’s new bob.

  Leaning down with my elbows on the bathroom counter, I nod and smile. And after they see six pairs of shoes, the three of us agree on my funkiest, most fun pair. A pair of open toe pumps wrapped in blue silk with intricate yellow, cream, navy and orange floral all over them. They’re loud and they don’t go with much. But they make this dress pop so I slip them on.

  Using two bobby pins, I pin my hair back on one side, letting it stay natural and wavy the way Eli likes it. My phone rattles.

  Eli: We should head out in ten. You ready?

  Me: Yes.

  Making my way down the stairs, my entire body locks up when I see Eli standing at the kitchen island, one hand wrapped casually around a glass of water as he flips through things on his phone with his other hand.

  Navy blue suit, tailored and fitted to his physique, a cream-colored dress shirt underneath his suit jacket, collar pressed, two buttons undone. His hair is styled how it usually is, but there’s a few days of scruff on his jaw making him look rugged.

  He notices me hovering (and maybe he feels me gawking but he’ll have to get used to that) and looks up from his phone to where I am on the stairs.

  A man like Eli should come with a “DANGEROUS WHEN I
N A SUIT” warning.

  Looking at him in a suit does some dirty things to my mind and for a moment, I almost feel guilty I’m such good friends with his mom. Guilty because of all the things I want to do him.

  “Damn, baby,” he slides his phone into his back pocket and walks to the bottom of the stairs, where he outstretches his hand to me.

  “Oh, I feel like Cinderella,” I tease, still getting a tingle up my arm when our hands make contact. Still. Months later, he makes me thrum everywhere. When I step down, his scent is everywhere. His cologne, his fresh minty breath, the warmth coming off his skin under his shirt—it makes me excited and dizzy, wet and needing.

  “Does Cinderella like whiskey?” he asks, pressing a kiss to my temple before he spins me away, our hands connected. “Let me look at you.”

  “Fuck,” he groans, taking me in at least twice. “Everything is going to taste good tonight because I’m so sweet on you.”

  “Eli,” I say, stepping back. “You look so good in a suit. I mean, of course you do. You know you do, you’re you. But Jesus,” I roll my bottom lip under my teeth and cock my head to the side. “You are making it very hard to concentrate on anything right now.”

  “Yeah?” he cocks a brow and brings me back into his arms. “What are you thinking about?”

  I lift my chin high and smooth my hands over my waves, checking to see if the bobby pins are secure. “I am a lady, sir, and do not speak of those things while in my fancy clothes.”

  He chuckles and weaves our fingers together casually. So casually but still, the way he takes and hold my hand. It drives me wild. Once we turn off the lights and lock up, Eli takes me to his car where he opens my door for me the way he always does.

  He starts the car and adjusts the temperature of the cab, adjust the seat temperatures, checks his mirrors, pats his pockets to make sure his wallet is there, and then, exhales.

  “You okay?” I ask. Then, I remember the last time he took a woman to one of these. Reaching across, I rest my palm on his thigh and smooth over his leg. The motion is meant to soothe his nerves and I don’t know what it’s doing for him but feeling his solid quad through that sexy ass navy blue suit is only making me hot.