Runaways: Reverse Harem Romance (The Challenge Book 3)

by Lily Harlem

  Paul sat stock still, gripping the arms of his chair.

  “When I’m married, Paul, however the ceremony is perceived by the rest of the world, I will only have relations, physical and otherwise, with my husbands. If you want to be one of my husbands, you need to get down on one knee…now.”

  A strange thrill went through her. A bubbling sense of power. Here was this handsome doctor, older and more worldly wise than all of them, and she’d just instructed him to get down on one knee and agree to belong to her.

  But would he?

  Almost in slow motion, Paul sank to the ground, not taking his eyes off hers.

  When his knee settled on the dirt, he pulled in a deep breath and held out his hand. “Marry me, too, Olivia, here in Kaskum.”

  The urge to punch the air in triumph filled her, but she resisted. Instead, she studied the men before her. They’d become her world, her here and now, and with the commitment of marriage, they’d also become her future.

  One hell of a future!

  She touched her necklace. “Tomorrow, I’ll become wife to all of you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Anya was in a giddy state of excitement the next evening and flitted around the tent like a butterfly. She was insistent that none of the men come in. They’d been banished to the hospital to get ready for the evening ceremony, which was not sitting comfortably with any of them with the leopard still on the loose.

  “We are safe here with all this fire,” Anya had told Raul. “And my father and brother will walk with us to the village center, now go, go…” She’d flicked her hand at him.

  Now Olivia stood in the lilac dress, and with her hair piled high on her head. Anya had added small purple beads on clasps, which matched surprisingly well with the material of her gown.

  She’d also painted henna onto Olivia’s hands, and the complex pattern swirled around her wrist and halfway up her forearms.

  “Are you excited?” Anya asked, adjusting the strap on Olivia’s dress.

  “Yes, very.” She was smiling, had been all day. The sooner she became wife to her six men the better.

  “Raul will make such good leader for your husbands, the way my mother did for my father’s other wives. He is strong and handsome and so very wise.”

  “He is all of those things, and particularly wise. Not only that, he’s a fast thinker and a very good cook.”

  Anya chuckled. “You will not be a hungry wife. Before long he will have you much fatter.”

  “Not too much, I hope.”

  “Fat with baby or fat with food, it does not matter.” She grinned and stepped back. “You are ready to go into the village. But do not worry if people stare.”

  “That’s usual for a bride.”

  “Yes, but you are a bride taking many husbands. In our village it is the other way around. But people are keen to embrace the ways of the rest of the world, Olivia, and seeing you with your husbands will do that.”

  “Well, it’s not really the normal state of affairs.” She didn’t want to confuse the villagers too much.

  Anya smiled. “Perhaps normal is everyone being free to do as they wish and be with who they wish.”

  “That is a good thing to aspire to.”

  “I agree.”

  “Anya, are you in there?” a deep voice sounded right outside the tent.

  “That’s my father.” Anya rushed to the door flap.

  “Is the bride ready?”

  “Yes, she is.” Anya pulled back the canvas.

  Yamba and Anya’s brother, Vada, stood side by side dressed in brightly colored robes.

  “Ah, you are very lovely,” Yamba said. “The dress suits your white skin and hair.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia looked in the mirror one last time and checked the sweep of pale lipstick she’d applied.

  “Your new husbands are waiting.”

  “I’m ready.” She smiled.

  “I have these for you,” Vada said, holding out six slim brown leather straps. “Wedding necklaces are traditional, but you wear yours tighter.” He gestured to her diamond choker. “So I thought you would like the same for your husbands.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Thank you so much.” She took them. They were pliable leather collars with small strap ties. “Thank you.”

  “We should go.” Yamba gestured over his shoulder. “There is much excitement about the festivities, and I am keen to try the dish your head husband Raul created for the feast.” He shook his head. “Very unusual to have a man liking to cook so much.”

  “He’s very good at it.” Olivia reached for the small bouquet Anya had sourced earlier. It was mainly wild grass but held a few pretty purple flowers. She paused, thinking of the orchid Evan had slipped behind her ear when they’d been at the waterfalls on Elysium. She’d always thought she’d have a white wedding, orchids in her bouquet, a three-tired iced cake, and all her family and friends around her in the church.

  But this was perfect. Around her now were people who understood and accepted her for who she was and what she wanted.

  One day she’d take her husbands back to Portsmouth, to meet her parents, Sandy and her niece. But not yet. This was their time, and she didn’t want the judgement of society to take a moment of it away.

  Anya linked her fingers with Olivia’s, and they walked out of the tent. Yamba led the way to the village, past the torches glowing a pathway there. Vada followed closely.

  A little roll of nerves caught in her belly as they approached the huge central fire which was cracking and spitting. Everyone had dressed up for the occasion, and a goat was roasting on a spit.

  Drums beat out a fast rhythm, and Yamba picked up a torch and held it forward. He swung it left to right, sending a spray of sparks through the dark air, and began to chant.

  “He’s warding off evil spirits,” Anya whispered. “Evil spirits who might want to harm the sacred union of you and your men.”

  “Okay…good.” Olivia gripped the collars and her bouquet a little tighter. She didn’t like the thought of evil spirits lurking around.

  Then she saw them. On the other side of the fire her grooms were standing in a row, clasping their hands and with their chins tilted. They’d been dressed up in traditional robes, and each wore a different bright color.

  “Wow,” she said. “I never thought any of the guys would wear that gear.”

  “My mother is a very persuasive woman.” Anya giggled.

  “Very.” Boy did they look hot. And perfect for what was about to happen.

  Absorbing them with her gaze, she approached. Their robes were v-necked and reached the floor and the sleeves hung to their wrists. Harry’s blue one seemed extra low on his neck, and she could make out his body hair.

  When Yamba reached the men, he set the torch into the ground, held up his hands, and turned to the crowd. “Welcome to this great evening. Yesterday we shook with fear when Kwame was attacked.” He gestured to the left.

  Kwame was sitting on the wall, beside his wife. He still looked weak but he managed a smile.

  “But with the help of our friends from America, he lives.”

  A loud cheer rang out, and the drums thudded.

  Yamba sliced the air horizontally with his hand.

  The noise dulled.

  “And so it gives me great honor to thank our wonderful friends by performing this ceremony. The ways of the west are not like our ways, and the wife can take many husbands.” He turned to Olivia. “You understand that you must care for them all.”

  “I do.”

  “And in return they will care for you.” He swung his gaze to the men.

  “We do.”

  He nodded seriously. “You have the necklaces, Miss Olivia.”

  “Yes.” She handed the bouquet to Anya and held the collars forward.

  Yamba hovered his hands over them and began to chant once more. The drums started up again, a low quiet thud that sounded like a pulse.

  After a minute Yamba straightened
. “You should put one on each of your men as a symbol of ownership.”

  “Yes.” She nodded and stepped up to Raul, who was closest.

  “You are beautiful,” he said, his eyes glistening with emotion.

  “Not so bad yourself.” She smiled as she looked up into his handsome face and fastened the leather band around his neck. “Is that too tight?”

  “No, it is perfect, mi amor.”

  Next was Evan.

  “Hello, wife,” he said with a wickedly sexy grin.

  “Husband.” She bit on her bottom lip to hold in an equally devilish smile and attached his necklace.

  Harry was next. “It seems fitting that you wear our collar and we wear yours.”

  “I thought it was necklace.”

  “Does it really look like a necklace?” He lifted his eyebrows.

  She studied his eyes, which flashed with the reflection of the flames. It suddenly became clear: no wonder he and Evan had been keen for her to wear it. The collar was blatant sign of possession. She was theirs.

  But she wasn’t complaining.

  She moved to Mason. His cheeks were a little flushed, and his robes a fraction tight. She guessed in the village they weren’t used to muscles the size of his and Lucas’s.

  “Mrs. McCadam,” he said. “It has a nice ring to it.”

  “I’m taking your name, am I?” she said with a smile then placed his collar on.

  “There’s three of us here with the same name, it makes sense.”

  She hovered her lips by his. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  A slight challenge came into his eyes but so did a shard of desire.

  Later.

  Just what would her wedding night bring? She had six grooms to keep satisfied.

  Lucas was next, and like Mason he had a slight rise of color tinting his cheeks. With his pale hair, and wide shoulders straining against white robes, he looked like some kind of Greek god.

  “I love you,” he whispered as she stood near and did up his necklace.

  “I love you, too.”

  He swallowed and tilted his chin a little higher, as though holding in emotion.

  Paul was grinning at her.

  She paused and held up the collar.

  He held her eye contact.

  “Are you sure you want this, Paul?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She hesitated. “And you understand what it means. Man and wife, forsake all others.”

  “I understand the concept of marriage, Olivia.”

  “Marriage to me?”

  His smile dropped, and the serious look she’d become used to seeing when he was treating patients spread over his features. “I understand that I’m insanely attracted to you, I admire you, and we’re really damn hot together.”

  She was silent.

  “Is that enough?” he asked.

  “Do you love me?”

  “I will grow to.” He pressed his hand on his chest. “I can feel it starting in here.”

  “Okay.” She smiled, enjoying the earnestness in his eyes. Paul was a straight talker, if he didn’t see a future with her, he wouldn’t be standing there.

  She fastened his collar, the scent of his cologne reminding her of the evening before.

  “We’re lucky guys,” he said quietly by her ear.

  “I’m the lucky one.” She smiled and stepped back.

  Yamba was again holding the torch aloft.

  “The ceremonial necklaces are in place, the joining of…” He paused. “Wife and husbands is complete.”

  The drums thudded once more, and several women began to clap and sing. Anya danced by the fire, and was joined by her father’s and brother’s wives.

  “We did it.” Olivia held her hands up. “We’re married.”

  The guys stepped forward, breaking their neat line.

  “And now we’re all going to fight over who kisses the bride first,” Mason said.

  “We’ll have no fighting,” she said with mock sternness.

  “I am first.”

  Raul swept her into his arms and set a luscious, long kiss on her lips. She clung to his robe and pressed against him. Her handsome Spanish husband really knew how to kiss.

  Mason tugged her from Raul’s arms and she found herself kissing him and gripping his wide shoulders.

  Next was Evan, his kiss more tender. Then Harry, whose stubble scratched her chin. Then Paul, and finally Lucas.

  She was dizzy with kisses and her heart full of love.

  “We should eat,” Raul said. “We will need energy for later.”

  “True,” Evan said, slipping his arm around her waist. “And I, for one, can’t wait to consummate this marriage.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When the fire began to die down, and the food had been eaten, Harry leaned in close. “You brought the stockings and underwear to Africa, right?”

  “You know I did.”

  He grinned. “No, I don’t, because I haven’t seen you wearing any of it.”

  “Does that mean you want me to?”

  “Too damn right I do. Evan and I have agreed with the others that us three go back, now, to the tent.”

  “You have, have you?”

  “Yeah, you might have six men at your beck and call, Liv, but we take your sexual pleasure very seriously and know this special night needs to be paced.”

  “And your own sexual pleasure, you take that very seriously too?”

  “I’m not going to deny that.” He grinned.

  She studied him. In his robe, and with his hair overlong and his jawline dark, he looked like some kind of old movie hero waiting to save the damsel in distress and sword fight his way across the desert.

  Setting her hand on his knee, she leaned in close and nipped his earlobe.

  He snatched in a breath.

  “So take me back to the tent,” she whispered, “and show me just how you intend to manage my sexual pleasure.”

  A strange growling sound erupted from his throat, and he stood, taking her hand. “Evan,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

  “Sure thing, mate.” Evan stood, and his gaze settled on Olivia.

  She saw the need and the love in Evan’s eyes, and knew it was definitely time to go.

  After a quick goodbye to Anya, Olivia, Evan and Harry headed back past the torches to the tent.

  Harry held his gun, Evan his knife, and she wondered where the hell they’d put them when wearing robes.

  “In,” Harry said gruffly as he held back the door flap. “I don’t like it out here in the dark, even with the fire and the torches.”

  “I agree.” Evan did up the zipper on the door and secured them inside.

  “So,” Olivia said, turning to face them. “Would you like me to go put on my sexy underwear, boys?”

  “Hell yeah,” Evan said.

  “If you don’t, you’re going over my knee for a damn good spank.” Harry let his gaze drop down her body, as if imagining putting her over his lap and taking swipes at her bare ass again.

  She grinned. “I’m going to put it on right now.”

  “And the stockings?”

  “Yes, and the stockings, Harry.”

  “Wait.” Evan came up to her. “Let me do this.”

  “Oh yes, thanks.”

  He drew down the zipper on the dress, and the material loosened around her body.

  Slipping into the compartment she used to store her bag, Olivia quickly found the satin bra and knickers Harry and Evan had bought her. She put them on, along with the black hold-up stockings. Each garment was of the highest quality and silky soft on her skin.

  The men were moving around in the next compartment, and when she went in she saw they’d pushed the two big beds together.

  They both stopped what they were doing, straightened, and stared at her.

  “Fucking hell,” Evan muttered.

  Harry grinned. “Suits you.”

  “You think?” She placed her hand on her waist
and cocked her hip.

  “Oh yeah.” Evan reached over his shoulder, grabbed his robe, and whipped it off. Beneath it he wore only black boxers.

  “Yeah, it’s getting hot in here,” Harry said, whisking his robe off, too.

  The compartment was small, but Olivia managed to sway her ass as she strutted to the bed.

  “It’s been too long,” Harry said, gliding his gaze down her body. “Since we were all together.”

  Evan wrapped his arms around her, tugging her flush with his naked chest. He nuzzled her neck, and as he did so she traced her finger over his collar. “You like this?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect.” He pulled back. “I want to be yours.”

  “You are.” She kissed him, enjoying the familiar passion with which he returned it.

  He tugged her onto the bed, so she was on top of him. Slotting his fingers into her hair, he eased it loose.

  Harry was next to her, gently sliding the beads from her up-do. “You smell sweet.”

  “It Anya’s perfume. She said something about verbena and she’d made it herself.”

  “You should wear it again, to remind us of this night.”

  With her hair falling around her shoulders, she kissed Evan again.

  Harry released the clip on her bra and it loosened around her chest.

  “Pretty as this is, it’s got to come off,” he murmured onto her ear.

  She sat upright and let it slip down her arms.

  Evan set his hands over her breasts and licked his lips. “Can you feel how hard I am for my new wife?”

  “Yes.” His cock was straining against his boxers and pressing lengthways on her pussy. “But you have too much on as well, husband.”

  “Tell me about it.” He groaned softly as he shifted his hips upward.

  “These,” Harry said, plucking the waistband of her knickers. “Off. Now.” There was an urgency to his tone, as though he’d given up on any idea of slow seduction.

  Quickly, she shoved at her panties and wriggled them off.

  Evan did the same with his boxers, then took hold of his shaft.

  She straddled his hips, hovering above him.