Three Alpha Romeo - A Military Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

  “Open…”

  I did. I took him again, this time sideways, this time staring up into his eyes. Holden’s expression was all business. He had a look of grim intensity, laden with desire. The same look guys get when they’re getting very close to losing it… but are still trying to maintain control.

  “Want some?” Randall asked his friend, and I could only assume he meant my pussy. He was drilling me deeper than ever now, his long cock pushing its way deep into my belly.

  “Fuck yes,” Holden growled.

  It made me hot, the way they were referring to me. Like I was a piece of property, to be traded off on. Like they were sharing a beer, or splitting a pizza… each of them trying and tasting different parts of my body.

  I thought they’d spin me around. Instead, they merely switched places. For a few breathless seconds I lay spread out between them, my chest heaving, my body waiting to be filled and plundered again.

  “You love it, don’t you?” The question came from Holden.

  Still breathless, I nodded.

  “Say it.”

  I bit my lip in defiance as he threw one of my legs over his shoulder. Winced in anticipation as he pressed himself against my aching, quivering entrance… and stopped.

  “Tell us now, or we stop.”

  Randall was rubbing his cock all over my face. I was nuzzling it. Inhaling it. Feeling the warmth and stickiness of my own sex, all over him.

  I nodded again, parting my lips as I looked back at Holden. “I love it…”

  I felt my leg being shoved higher. The hand clenching my ankle, screw itself even tighter.

  Then Holden plunged into me, splitting me open. Spreading my aching pussy around his thick, hard cock.

  Right before my eyes crossed, I think I saw stars.

  Eighteen

  HOLDEN

  I was having flashbacks as I sank into her. Recollections of a happier time, when Randall and I shared much more than a team, a place, or a job.

  It was the best type of déjá vu.

  That we’d done this before wasn’t a big deal. As SEALs and brothers-in-arms, we’d shared lots of things. What was a big deal however, were the feelings that had developed the last time we’d tried this. Shared feelings of love and belonging; an intensity we never thought we could have, except on the battlefield, and our days on the battlefield were over.

  Donna.

  She’s been more than just a girl we shared physically. She’d been our girlfriend. A lover to the both of us, as well as a companion, a partner, a friend. And then…

  And then she wasn’t any of those things anymore.

  I remember the emptiness, and how much it had hurt. It had almost even driven a wedge between us, possibly because we’d spent so much time relying on her to fulfill our needs, and fulfilling hers in turn. When she took off it left a void between Randall and I. A hole that neither one of us could fill, and so we both stood staring at it from opposite ends, wondering what to do.

  And now…

  “Oh God, yes…”

  And now we had another girl pinned between us. Equally smart, equally capable. And gorgeous, too. Absolutely fucking stunning, with a body and will that just wouldn’t quit. I could see the fire in her eyes as I fucked her. That smoldering look of intensity that begged me to go harder and deeper inside her. That same look Donna had, all those years ago, when she’d smirk up at us in the middle of everything we were doing to her and whispered those three wicked words: I won’t quit.

  I for one, never thought I would feel this way again. To be connected via the writhing, lust-fueled body of this beautiful blonde. To have those starfire blue eyes boring into mine, silently challenging me to continue. Virtually ordering me to seal the deal, to make her ours again, and not simply just mine or Randall’s.

  Of course, I could’ve been reading into things. She could just be dick-drunk. That definitely happened. But the way Andrea was staring back at me… the way her eyes pleaded with mine, even as we screwed her absolutely stupid…

  Well, it was the kind of look that was impossible to ignore.

  Andrea was screwing me back now, clawing me into her body with those long, painted nails. There were still so many unanswered questions. Right now though, they could wait.

  I leaned down and gave in to what I really wanted, which was to drink her lips with mine. To kiss her while I fucked her. To make that more intimate, personal connection.

  “You feel so thick…”

  She murmured the words between kisses, her tongue teasing my lips. Randall had pulled back for a minute, to give us room. To give us our moment together, until the next switch.

  And yet…

  “Get on your back.”

  I rolled over as Andrea’s hand went to my chest. She was taking control. Taking command. It was something Donna would do, of course, and that made it even more appealing to me. Yet just another pleasant reminder at how similar they actually were.

  “Ohhhhhh, FUCK that’s good!”

  Randall was behind her as she impaled herself on me. He was playing with her tits. Chewing wetly on her her neck as she turned over her shoulder to kiss him, as hotly and as passionately as she was now riding my cock.

  And I could see his eyes too. My former teammate questioned things a lot less than I did, but I could tell he was thinking along the same lines I was. That as fun as this was, maybe it wasn’t just a one-time thing.

  Maybe it could actually—

  “Come in me.”

  Andrea was staring down into my eyes. Riding me in a circular, grinding motion, while tracing my nipples with the pads of her fingers.

  “I want you to come in my pussy…”

  The words might’ve been a request. The roll of her hips made them a command. The way she said it too, especially that last word. The way it dropped from her full, beautiful lips, even as she screwed down against my balls, all slick with her wetness…

  I was at the very edge when I felt it. Her eyes flared, her body stiffened, and suddenly, all the way on the inside, I could feel everything just squeeze…

  “FUCK!”

  I came like a thunderclap, clamping both hands down on her smooth, creamy thighs. Pulling her downward with every ounce of my strength, while thrusting up deeply, shooting myself into her womb. I filled her with pulse after pulse, jet after jet of my warm, sticky come. And through it all she just grinned. Grinned and grinded and rolled her hips in that perfect little circle, until she’d emptied me completely, leaving me spent and happy inside her.

  “Now you…”

  Andrea rolled off me and onto her back, spreading her legs wide. She dipped a finger through her wetness. It came back gooey and pearly and covered in a frothy mixture of our combined sex…

  Randall didn’t have to be asked twice.

  He mounted her immediately, and went straight to fucking her with a wild, savage abandon. I’d never seen him worked up into such a desperate frenzy. Not like this.

  “AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!”

  My ex-teammate’s face went stark white, his jaw clenching so tightly I was sure he teeth would shatter. Then he was filling her, just as I had. Pumping his way though a gut-churning climax, while our shared lover dug her nails deeply into his asscheeks and urged him on.

  “YES, baby… YES…”

  He plowed her deep through his climax, spreading her legs wide. Clamping his hands on the underside of her legs… pushing until her knees touched her ears so he could look down and see the fruits of his labor.

  By the time he was finished, there was come everywhere. It leaked out of her, all over the makeshift bed. Seeped into the sheets and blankets, just beneath.

  His sheets. His blankets.

  “Shit,” Randall said, finally out of breath. I had to give her credit — not many people could make Randall breathless. I’d fought beside him in eleven countries over thirty-nine different engagements, and I still only needed one hand to count the number of times I’d seen his chest rising and falling like th
at.

  “Next time,” he said, pointing at me and then down at the sheets. “Your bed.”

  Nineteen

  ANDREA

  I woke between them in the darkness, all warm and snug. Totally contented. Utterly safe.

  Oh yeah, and completely drenched.

  They’d taken me again individually, each of them waking in turn. Nudging my legs apart… sliding their hard bodies over mine. I spread for Holden first, savoring the feel of being buried beneath a mountain of musk and muscle. He screwed me hotly while Randall snored… only to be awakened by him later, his beard tickling my neck as he slid into me from behind.

  After that it was sleep, for a little while at least. Without saying a word they’d pushed their mattresses together, remaking the bed so that we all laid lengthwise across the seam. It was like they’d done it all before. I realized of course that they had, but my mind was still processing this crazy turn of events.

  I crept now through the shadowy gym, wondering what time was. Even with the windows boarded I could tell it was pitch black outside. There were two little skylights near the center ceiling, and right now they revealed only the inkiest patches of sky.

  I relieved myself in the one clean bathroom stall, then padded over and opened the office fridge. I was thirsty as hell. Totally parched from—

  “Grab me one too?”

  My heart leapt into my throat, but at least until I recognized the voice. I turned to see Holden, smiling amusedly. He wasn’t close enough to whack him in the chest, so I threw the plastic bottle at him, hard.

  He caught it anyway, with the quick snap of a wrist.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  I held up on finger as I screwed off my own cap and began swallowing. Gulp after gulp I emptied the whole water bottle, before crushing it like a pseudo-badass.

  “Okay then,” Holden chuckled. “Just thirsty.”

  He sank into what was once the manager’s chair and a plume of fresh dust swirled up around us. He was scanning the walls now, which were covered in banners. Below these were a series of faded mid-eighties posters. Promotions and fight announcements, from bouts that had been won or lost decades ago.

  “So… what are we looking at?”

  I glanced again. Everything was lettered in the native language of course, except for the dates.

  “You hoping for an ‘it’s all Greek to me joke’?”

  He laughed. “No. But that’s a good one.” Leaning over the old desk, his expression grew more serious. “I meant you, Andrea. How do you feel?”

  “Well my legs are sore,” I replied nonchalantly. “Haven’t been stretched that far in a while, but otherwise—”

  “You know what I mean.” He tapped the side of his head with one finger. “How are you up here?”

  I hesitated before answering. It was definitely a sweet gesture, him looking out for me. But while I appreciated where he was coming from, I still had too many questions of my own.

  “Why are you so hellbent at nailing Kyrkos?” I asked abruptly.

  Holden leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers together. I couldn’t help but think about what those fingers had done to me, just a few hours ago.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you know why I want him dead,” I replied. “Or at least I’m pretty sure you do.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “So then what did the asshole ever do to you? Randall already told me it’s not a military operation. That the Navy has nothing to do with your—”

  “Tell me what your dream was about.”

  I froze, my mouth still half-open. The question caught me totally off guard. “My what?”

  “Your dream,” said Holden. “The one you had last night. The one that woke you up screaming.”

  A shiver ran through me, involuntarily. I could tell he noticed it. I hated that he noticed it, but it was already too late.

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “My dream…”

  For some reason I told him. I replayed the entire dream out loud — every last detail — from the surreal shadows of my father’s garage to the skeleton chasing me in hellish slow-motion. I told him about my mother, sitting there in the kitchen, drinking coffee, ignoring me completely. About how no matter how loudly I screamed into her face, she never even looked my way.

  When I was finished he let out a low whistle. “Jesus. That’s some dream.”

  I eyed him skeptically at first, but it became quickly apparent he was being genuine. There was no judgment. He wasn’t poking fun.

  “What do you think it means?” he asked.

  “Fuck if I know.”

  “Well, did you get along with your mother? Maybe she didn’t pay enough attention to—”

  I was already laughing. It stopped him mid-sentence.

  “What?”

  “I never had a mother.”

  Holden smirked. “That’s biologically impossible.”

  “Well maybe I did, but I never knew her,” I explained. “My mother was a drug addict, and my father had to beg her to carry me to term. Once she did, she took off immediately. Wouldn’t even stay overnight at the hospital; just pulled the IV out of her arm and left within hours.” I glanced downward. “I’m told she never even held me in her arms.”

  Holden’s expression was extreme sadness. Sorrow, but not pity. It was the right expression.

  “Andrea, I’m so sorry.”

  “Wasn’t your fault,” I choked, forcing a smile. “You weren’t the one who chose drugs over your own daughter.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully. “How do you know it’s your mother, then?”

  My eyebrows came together. “What?”

  “In the dream,” Holden went on. “If you never even met her, how do you know the woman drinking coffee was—”

  “Because I know it in my heart,” I said. “Besides, I’ve seen photos of her. Four of them, actually.”

  I told him of the time right after my tenth birthday, when my father had finally shown me. The day he’d pulled out that faded little strip of black-and-white photos. Four different pictures of him and my mom, taken in one of those carnival photo booths where you make silly poses together.

  “She looked so happy in the photos,” I said. “All laughter and smiles.” A lump began forming in my throat. “I used to think to myself, how could she just go? Why couldn’t she just be happy, like she was in that godforsaken photo booth with my father’s arm around her, and—”

  I didn’t even notice that Holden had left the chair. One minute he was sitting there, the next he was standing before me, crushing me against his chest. I melted into him gratefully. I would’ve cried — really, I would’ve. But I’d spent all those tears years ago, and there were simply none left.

  “I guess the dream is just an echo of my abandonment issues,” I sniffed. “Sound about right?”

  “The way you screamed?” he smiled amicably. “That’s some fucking echo.”

  I laughed with him, and the laughter felt good.

  “Your mother’s a raging asshole,” said Holden. “Wherever the fuck she is.”

  “Agreed,” I said wholeheartedly. “Now… tell me about Kyrkos.”

  I felt him stiffen. Saw his expression change, going all serious again. Whatever was there, it ran deep. As deep as my resentment for own shitty mother, and possibly even—

  BANG.

  It was a low sound, and not very loud. But it was very distinct. Very noticeable. Almost instantly Holden let go of me.

  “Hey, did you hear—”

  The rest of my sentence died on an empty room. Holden was already gone, slipping out of the office with dangerous efficiency in the direction of the noise.

  Moving quickly and silently, I followed him.

  Twenty

  ANDREA

  The gym was eerie enough at night; a mostly open expanse of muted darkness with even deeper shadows. I saw only a faint trace of movement ahead. Holden, creeping stealthily along the wall, toward the
front end of the building.

  “Holden…”

  He hissed at me instantly, making a silencing motion with his hand. I felt foolish, but I kept moving. Kept on coming.

  That’s when my foot caught on something…

  Shit!

  … and a random chunk of debris skidded across the floor.

  CRASH!

  Something flew from the wall ahead, knocking into my lover with a loud expulsion of air. It hit him hard enough to knock him sideways, but not before he grabbed his assailant as well.

  “HOLDEN!”

  I looked on in horror, as the two of them went sprawling to the floor. In the shadows they looked like a swirling mass of arms and legs. I ran up to find them rolling, pummeling, fighting…

  “Stop! I—”

  Someone punched someone, and someone groaned. I saw an elbow fly, and heard the sharp crack of teeth clacking together.

  I was caught between action and inaction. Between the desire to jump in and help, or run off to wake up Randall.

  Reaching back, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find. It was thick and heavy. Cold in my hands…

  “Holden…”

  I moved within striking distance, but it still too dark to see. The fight was moving too quickly to know who was who.

  Another flurry of punches. Another series of twists and turns. The two men — and I could tell from the grunts the assailant was a man — writhed in the dirt and filth of the abandoned gym’s floor. Dust flew everywhere. I started coughing…

  SNAP.

  Someone cried out. I saw a body go limp, or almost limp, and the victor emerged. He was straddling the loser, knees locked around his chest. Both arms raised overhead, fists clenched, like he was about to deliver another blow.

  And he was big. Way too big, too tall, his arms far too long to be Holden…

  I swung my hands in a downward arc. Connected with the back of his head as hard as I could.

  CLANG!

  At the last second the man turned, sensing the blow. It was too late for him though. If anything he turned the direct impact into a glancing blow, but it was still hard enough, and heavy enough, to drop him like a marionette whose strings had just been cut.