Falling For Them: A New Adult Reverse Harem Collection

by C. L. Stone

  “A gift for you,” Arnet took the crystal cork out and held it beneath my nose. “Rose oil.”

  I inhaled and smiled in delight. Rose oil was the most expensive perfume you could buy. It took so many flowers to make just the barest amount. I had no idea how Arnet could afford it. It was a gift a prince would bring me, not a huntsman.

  “Thank you,” I said, “but how-”

  “Shh,” he whispered at my ear. “Just enjoy it.”

  Arnet poured a small amount of oil into his hands and rubbed his palms together. Then he took thin lengths of my hair and began to twine them around his fingers, curling them patiently. I cast a look back at him and saw his contented gaze. Arnet was loving this, just touching my hair, and watching how it fell into spirals. He stroked and formed my hair to his liking until it was dry and curling gloriously.

  I sat up, stroked my hands over the fragrant mass of it, and turned to face him, “Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Arnet stroked a finger down the curve of my cheek, to my neck, where my pulse was beating wildly. How could I have been so excited from a man washing my hair? “May I have a kiss for my efforts?”

  Arnet leaned forward, without waiting for my answer, but I nodded anyway. I eagerly fit my lips to his, and delighted in the delicious moans vibrating from his mouth to mine. My hands went to his wide chest, and he took it as encouragement, sliding his arms around my waist to pull me onto his lap. My legs spread around his hips and my skirts rode up. I didn't care, I wrapped my arms around his massive chest and pulled him tight to me. He growled into our kiss, forcing my mouth wider and filling it with his demanding tongue. Arnet's lips were thinner than Hugin's, firmer, but I liked the harsh slash of them just as much as I'd enjoyed Hugin's softness.

  Then one of Arnet's hands flattened on my back and the other slid up my belly, over my breasts, to spread over my sternum. He pushed me back without breaking the kiss, holding me securely so I wouldn't fall. I felt the mattress hit me at mid-back and laid my head upon it. Arnet left my mouth to trail kisses down my neck. But then he sat up and looked me over possessively.

  “God you're beautiful,” he growled. “Tell me you want me, Addy.”

  “I do,” I agreed immediately, “I want you.”

  “Good,” Arnet smiled like a predator. “Pull your skirts up higher then.”

  “I... what?” I blinked at him in shock.

  “Do it,” he growled and bared his teeth at me.

  My heart sped up as I gathered my skirts and pulled them up my thighs. Arnet pushed my chemise up too, and moved my hands around the gathered material, closing my fingers into fists so I would hold the skirts up. My thighs were on display for him, three more inches and my womanhood would be bare too. But Arnet didn't touch me there. Instead, he pulled the edge of my bodice down with one hand, and scooped up my breasts with the other, bringing them both halfway out of the restricting material. I gasped as he gazed on my nipples, jutting up over the edge of my bodice. Then he lowered his mouth to one.

  “Arnet,” I whispered as I held his head to me. I couldn't believe I was allowing him such liberties, but I didn't want him to stop either.

  Arnet licked and bit at each breast, going back and forth between them. Then finally, he pushed them tight together and took both hard nipples into his mouth. He groaned and sucked harder, then bit his way around the exposed flesh till it was pink from his passion.

  “Such gorgeous tits,” his voice was a deep rumble as he pulled away. “Sweet enough to make any man want to drop to his knees and worship them.”

  Then his strong hands went to my thighs, looking so much darker against my pale skin. Arnet rubbed me gently, then pushed his hands upward, under the gathered material, and eased his fingertips along the base of my hips. He was so close. He slipped them closer, closer, just grazing the curls covering me. I saw his jaw clench, the thick muscles in his arms twitch as he wove his fingers through my curls. Then Arnet pressed a single fingertip into the tender flesh, right above the place I suddenly wanted him.

  I shifted, trying to get him to delve further, but he just dug more fingers into me and held me still. Arnet's breathing was coming faster, and his green eyes had darkened to something more sinister. His slid his hands up to my waist abruptly, and jerked me against him. I could feel his shaft, a hard, thick rod pressing through his breeches and into my folds. I gasped, pulling him even closer as I rubbed myself against him. The sensations were dizzying. I wanted more. Needed more. Arnet groaned and shuddered, then pulled away. With a Herculean effort, he lifted me from his lap and placed me on my feet.

  “Run, Addy,” Arnet ground out.

  “But-”

  “Run!” he shouted.

  I ran for the door, risking a glance over my shoulder as I reached it. Arnet was bent over the bed, his forehead pressed into the exact spot I had laid upon. One of his arms spread out along the bed, hand grasping at the blankets as if he were falling. Arnet's other hand was between his legs, inside his breeches, working at himself furiously. I inhaled sharply, turned, and fled up the stairs into the safety of my room. But the sight of him would haunt me through the night.

  11

  The next day, when the seamstresses returned, Barret came with them. His presence sent the women into a tizzy, and they fluttered at him, upset that he would invade their sanctum. But Barret calmly explained that this was his specialty, and he'd decided that he'd be the one to construct his bride's dress. The ladies could design it, but Barret would be doing the sewing. When put to them like that, they realized that he was offering to do the most labor intensive parts of their jobs for them. They shut their mouths and smiled at him. Suddenly, Barret was made welcome.

  Barret sat at a desk they had brought in for him, and they laid the cut pieces of fabric before him. He set to work immediately with his silver needle, and the women gawked as he bound the silk together without thread, making it into one seamless piece. My mother walked in to this display, and stood to gawk with the others, while I went to stand behind my betrothed and massage his shoulders encouragingly.

  “Will you come and see me tonight?” Barret whispered up to me.

  “Yes,” I agreed immediately.

  “Good, I have something for you.”

  “Something more than my wedding gown?” I teased.

  “Something a little more intimate,” he looked back to his work with a secret smile.

  “Hmm... a mystery to obsess over,” I laughed.

  But I had no time to obsess over Barret's secret gift. I spent the entire day helping my mother design a menu for the feast. At least we did it all from my bedroom, where I could watch Barret work, out of the corner of my eye. I loved to see his hands flying over the silk, stopping occasionally to caress the material, then he would look up at me with heat in his eyes. It was an exciting shift in Barret. He had been very careful with me so far. To catch the promise of pleasure within those sweet eyes was like being pinched on the behind by an attractive priest. So naughty and yet, so exciting. I wanted another pinch.

  Barret's dark blonde locks would fall forward into his face, and he would just brush them away. Over and over. I finally got up and tucked them behind his left ear. The seamstresses giggled, and Barret looked up at me with a sly grin. Had that been a ruse to draw me near? This was even more shocking, that Barret could manipulate me as easily as Robyn.

  “Adelysia,” my mother's voice chided, but there was the touch of indulgence to it.

  I knew she was becoming fond of my men, slowly warming to the idea of my having numerous protectors. She had told me earlier that the positives of my situation were starting to become evident to her. For example, when I became Queen someday, they would all become Kings. The position of Queen is more tenuous than that of King. A queen can lose her throne to her son, if her husband died before her. But if one of my husbands were to die, I would have three more to depend on. I would remain Queen, even if there was an heir of age to depose me.

  I wasn't s
urprised that my marriage would have added benefits. My father was a brilliant man, and he seldom did anything without fully considering all of the angles. If he wanted me married to four men, he must have had multiple reasons. Not to mention that it actually played in my father's favor to marry me to commoners. His kingdom ended up being more secure. If I had married another prince, that prince could have absorbed our kingdom into his eventually. This way, it stayed intact. Yes, my father was brilliant.

  But all of those reasons mattered very little to me. The only things important to me were the men themselves. And day by day, they mattered more and more. I was falling deeply in love with my fiances. How novel.

  When the sun began to set, the women left us. My mother was last to go, casting a concerned glance at Barret as she walked to the door. But she couldn't deny me the company of my betrothed, and he was within his rights to be left alone, unchaperoned, with me.

  “Be careful that you do not give away too much of yourself, too soon, my dear,” my mother whispered to me when I went to shut the door behind her. “I'll see you both at dinner.”

  “Have some faith in me, Mother,” I said gently.

  “Addy,” she tsked. “I have every faith in you. It's them, and their magic, that I'm worried about. Magic like that can dazzle a young woman.”

  “I am a little dazzled,” I admitted. “But I'm also very happy.”

  “Then I'm happy too,” she kissed my cheek and left.

  “Are you?” Barret asked.

  He was standing a few feet away from me, his needle tucked into its leather case on his belt. He eased forward till he was mere inches from me. I could smell leather and soap on him. The smell of a working man. It was delicious.

  “Am I what?” I asked after I savored his scent a second.

  “Happy?” Barret smiled shyly. “Are you happy, Adelysia?”

  “More so every day,” I nodded.

  “And can I hope that I've had a hand in that happiness?” Barret was so close now that his body was gently pressing into mine. He had to angle his head down to look into my eyes. His hands slid up to rest on my hips. “Do I dare hope those smiles, those real smiles, are for me?”

  “You can dare anything you like,” I whispered, “even hope. That's how magical you are.”

  Barret's mouth was suddenly on mine, his lips rubbing tenderly across my lips, before his tongue flicked out to taste me. Then the kiss became bolder, a pressure along the seam of my mouth, a clenching of his hand on my waist. A moan rising from his chest as his tongue twirled with mine. I was dizzy with the tenderness in it, sighing through the delicate attention he was lavishing on me. I could kiss Barret all day, never worrying about taking it too far. Not because I didn't want him, but because I wanted this more. This sweet, gentle caress of mouth on mouth. The slow drawing of tongue across tongue. The shy questing of his hands just beneath my breasts. It was heaven. A lot like my time with Hugin in the garden.

  Barret pulled away as carefully as he'd begun, and I was surprised to see the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

  “Adelysia,” he said.

  “Addy,” I corrected.

  “Addy,” Barret smiled. “Will you come with me to my bed chamber?”

  “Yes.”

  He took me by the hand and led me through the door set in the left, back corner of my room, and down the stairwell. We came out of another door, and into his bedroom. It was spacious, as a prince deserved, and appointed in deep emerald silk and velvet. His bed, a behemoth of dark wood and green tapestry, crouched against the wall to our right, like a predator about to pounce. On our left was a balcony, with a large window looking out upon it. It was tempting, but Barret led me to a wood dining set near the window, instead of out the archway to the balcony.

  Barret pulled out a chair for me, and I glanced out the window at the moonlit kingdom on display there. It was so much more beautiful now that it was colored by my happiness. Everything seemed brighter, more alive. Or perhaps it was just I who was more alive.

  Barret placed a fabric bundle on the table before me. It was tied together with a red silk bow. I smiled up at him as I undid the bow, and he took the chair beside me, watching me closely. The fabric slid back to reveal little scraps of lace and silk. They were a creamy white, and when I held one up, I saw that they were seamlessly formed. But what were they? I put the triangular shaped one down and picked up another. This was more evident. It was a chemise, like the ones I wore beneath my gowns, except much shorter. I lifted an eyebrow at Barret.

  Barret cleared his throat, “They are for you to wear beneath your bridal gown. This one goes on the bottom,” he held up the tiny scrap.

  “On the...” my eyes went round as I realized what he meant. “My legs go through here?” I had never worn anything so close to my womanhood before. Only when my moontime came. But on a normal day? My flesh touching the silk? Scandalous.

  “Yes, exactly,” Barret cleared his throat again. “And here are stockings for you, seamless like the rest. And garters to hold them up,” his breath was coming so rapidly it was fluttering the garments. “I want desperately to see you in them. I hope you will agree to wear them for our wedding.”

  “Perhaps I should try them on now,” my voice was the barest breath of air. “Just to be certain they will fit.”

  “Perhaps you should,” Barret swallowed hard. “Do you require my assistance? I, above all, will know how to fit them to you.”

  “And you'll need to make sure they are laying correctly,” I nodded.

  “Yes, indeed,” he got to his feet.

  Barret's hands were shaking as he reached for me. He helped me to my feet, but then just stood there, looking at me as if lost.

  “I suppose I should remove these garments first,” I suggested.

  “Of course,” he scurried around to my back and undid my laces.

  It took him a few tries, but Barret finally managed to slide my dress down to the floor. Then I stood in only my shift. I had a fleeting memory of Saunder forcing me to strip, but I pushed it away, deciding to replace it with this one. I would form new memories to replace the ones Saunder had forced on me. Determinedly, I lifted my arms over my head.

  Barret's hands brushed my heels and a zing of excitement shot up my legs. He gripped the hem of my shift and slowly lifted, fingertips trailing along my skin as he stood. He finally pulled the fabric free of my body, and I listened to his breathing hitch. I looked over my shoulder at Barret. His eyes were flowing over me from top to bottom and then up again. He settled on my stare and smiled, suddenly more sure of himself.

  Keeping his eyes locked on mine, Barret turned me to face him. Then, very deliberately, he looked down. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, and his hands clenched at his sides. I noticed the bulge rising in his breeches and the tightening of his shoulders. I didn't feel ashamed, I felt proud. I was reveling in the effect I had on him. I loved seeing his nostrils flare, his pupils dilate, his lips part. Finally, Barret reached for the tiny piece of clothing he had made me.

  He bent and held the thin straps open for me to step into. I braced myself on his shoulder and stepped one foot in, and then the other. Barret reverently slid the silk up my thighs and settled it in place. It fit perfectly, the triangle of fabric covering my womanhood while the delicate lace angled over my buttocks enticingly. His hands slid down my thighs, then back up over my ass to feel where the lace ended. Barret's breath was hot on my skin, his mouth so close to that silk, I was tempted to angle my hips forward and press the silk to his mouth.

  But Barret drew back and stood. He picked up the stockings next, and knelt this time so that he presented me with one of his thighs. I placed my foot gingerly on his thigh, and he slipped the stocking over it. Barret eased the nearly transparent material up my calf, then placed my foot back on the carpet. Another slow slide of fabric and the stocking was covering my thigh. He took my hand and placed it over the band, urging me wordlessly to hold it in place. I did so as Barret took a garter and
rolled it up my leg.

  By the time Barret finished with the other leg, I was shaking with desire. But he didn't seem to notice. He just stood and picked up the shift. He took one last, long look at my breasts as I lifted my arms up for him. With a groan Barret covered me, sliding the shift over my head and then settling it over my hips. It came to mid-thigh only. A seductive garment that I instantly loved. I couldn't wait for him to take it off again.

  “A perfect fit,” Barret smiled and picked up the red ribbon. “Would you allow me to try one more thing on you?”

  I frowned at the ribbon and then decided he must want to bind my hair with it. I smiled and nodded, turning my back to him. I heard him inhale excitedly, his hands going to my hair. But they didn't bind my hair with the ribbon, they simply pushed my heavy locks over my shoulder, out of the way. Barret took hold of my wrists and pulled them together in front of me, grasping them in one of his hands. I turned to look over my shoulder at him in surprise.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Do you trust me, Adelysia?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Barret smiled and wound the red ribbon around my wrists, tying them firmly and then knotting the silk. His hands slid to my back, over the curves of my ass, going around and underneath. He lifted the silk and pressed himself against me. I felt his hard shaft part my buttocks, and moaned, leaning back into him.

  “How much do you trust me?” Barret whispered into my ear.

  “Implicitly.”

  “Wonderful,” he sighed and walked me forward to the bed. My heart started to race, but Barret didn't lay me on the mattress. Instead, he turned me around and eased me up against one of the sturdy, wood, bed posters. He lifted my bound wrists above my head, and eased the ribbon over a hook I hadn't noticed before. My wide eyes went to his face, and he smiled. So he wasn't like Hugin after all. My sweet Barret had secret desires.

  Barret's hands slid down my arms and over the crests of my breasts, which were pushed forward and up by my position. He sighed and rubbed his palms in circles over my nipples until they beaded against the thin silk. Then he pinched them, hard enough to make me cry out.