Allison and the Torrid Tea Party: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Harem of Hearts Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  "Come to my room," North whispers in my ear, making me shiver. Chesh lays between us, but he doesn't seem bothered much by North's naked body leaning over him. I guess as the Duke’s pet, he’s probably seen worse. I wonder how many women he’s seen North take to his bed? For whatever reason, that thought pisses me the hell off. "I'll fuck you into my mattress, and make us both scream."

  "Oh lord," I choke out, but I'm opening my eyes and sliding them over to look at the jabberwock painting on the wall.

  "Go," Chesh says, nuzzling against my arm. "If he doesn't get mated, the Duke will be rather savage."

  "I …" I start, but nobody is looking at me, nobody's judging. And I am curious as to what the Suits look like down those long hallways. "I'll at least go and take a look at your room."

  Chesh chuckles, like he's calling my bluff and I smack him, standing up to follow North into his chambers. His bare bronze ass when he stands up is glorious.

  Don't drool, Allison, I think as he pads over and unlocks the painting for me, letting it swing aside so I can step into the hallway. Gotta wonder where he was keeping that key though. Clenched between his firm, bronzed buttocks perhaps?

  Buttocks.

  I snort and then slap my hand over my mouth to cut off the sound.

  "Do you know," the Duke continues as he follows along, the door swinging shut behind us. "That in a siege, your attackers must fight their way through all nine chambers before they get to yours. That main door is spelled; anyone without a key must be let in by someone inside."

  "That's … pretty fucking cool actually," I say, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. It does not help me calm down much when North reaches out and tickles my skin with his claws. No, pretty sure my dripping sweat becomes a monsoon. It’s like I’m nervous or something, a blushing virgin on her way to the honeymoon suite. Cue eyeroll.

  I follow the hall to its natural end, pausing to glance into a glorious marble bathroom on the right before I step into the bedroom.

  It's small, but cozy, shaped like a heart with a bed situated in the point opposite us. There's a dresser on either side of me, both of them wilting and wonky, like they're melting. The ceiling is draped with red fabric, the floor with rugs, and there are chaises and chairs scattered all around. Also, I’m pretty sure the Alice statue on the opposite side of the room just waved at me.

  "My sweet mate," North growls into my hair, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Every day that I don't touch you is torture."

  "We fucked once; that doesn't make me your mate," I whisper, but the words sound weak, like even I don't believe them. That’s been happening a lot to me lately; it’s like maybe I don’t know myself at all. Or maybe I just stopped trying after Fred died. I changed after everything that happened, and I changed into someone I didn’t want to know. Perhaps it’s time for me to try? If I do, I might find that I don’t hate myself as much as I thought I did.

  "That's what it means to me," North says, pushing me forward. I stumble a bit, putting my palms flat on the surface of the bed to catch myself. I'm fairly certain that's exactly the position he wants me in, bent over with my ass sticking out.

  Instead, I stand up and spin around before he can grab me.

  I look up and meet gold eyes shimmering with lust.

  "Slow down, would you?" I say, putting my hands on his flat stomach. Liam was not sexy like this, not even close. He was a boy, and North is most certainly a man. It's like I'm not even sure where to put my hands; I just want to touch all of him.

  "How can I slow down when all I want is to ravage you?" the Duke whispers back, his voice hoarse, his tail trashing. I reach up and give a tug on one of his horns. I could never take him back home; he wouldn't last a day in Topside. Of course, the horns and tail are dead giveaways. I imagine he can probably shift them off the way he does his wings, but his temper would eventually get the better of him.

  "Ravage, huh?" I ask, sliding my fingers down his body. He's already sweaty, that musky, masculine scent of his driving me up the wall. "That's a strong word."

  "I have strong emotions," he says, curling his tail around my waist and yanking me even closer to him, so close that his erect cock is trapped between our bodies. With a snap of his fingers, he lights the flickering candles in the room and dims the chandelier at the same time. Magic. I can't wait to be able to use my magic.

  "I can see that," I whisper, pushing him back with my hands on his chest.

  North obliges and moves back. Let's be honest: if he didn't want to move, I would not be able to make him. He's huge and built like a truck. Plus, you know, he can turn into a dragon. Maybe my Alice magic could blow him to bits if I really tried, but I'm sort of fond of the guy now.

  Slowly, I drop to my knees with the Savage Duke standing above me.

  When I look up and meet his gold eyes, they're practically molten, dripping with lust. His horns cast wicked shadows on the ceiling and walls, making him look like a monster. A beautiful monster, but a monster nonetheless.

  I wrap the fingers of my right hand around his bronze shaft and give it a squeeze, just to test his sensitivity. North exhales, tangling clawed fingers in my hair. He's dominant, but not cruel, and a definite change of pace from the twins. Dee is loving and cheerful, Tee is reserved but intense, and North is … savage.

  He's fucking primal.

  Licking my lips, I put my mouth up to the head of his cock and gently kiss his hot flesh, working my way down his shaft to his balls. My tongue runs along that seam of flesh in the middle as my fingers tease the soft skin.

  "Allison Liddell," he grinds out, his hips moving up to meet my face. "You're going to break my black, little heart, aren't you?"

  I just smile and keep going, licking and teasing him until his breathing is ragged. Then I oblige his desires and put my mouth over the head of his cock, just enough that he can feel the warm, wet heat of my tongue, but gets no satisfaction from it.

  My right hand works his dick like a corkscrew, twisting around his shaft and making him growl in frustration.

  "I want to fuck your mouth right now," he snarls, but he doesn't move. He just sits there and lets me pleasure him, working salty pre-cum from the tip. I can't believe I'm sucking off a dragon, I think, and seeing as my jaw is already starting to ache, I know the prophecy is right about one thing.

  Nine big cocks.

  "Aren't you glad we're taking our time?" I whisper, making sure my lips move against his shaft when I speak. Once I've got him all lubed up with saliva, I breathe against the shiny wetness on his cock, and he snarls at me.

  "I can't quite decide at this precise moment," he grinds out, and I grin. I open my mouth and lightly tease him with my teeth before sliding my lips over the head, taking as much of him in as I can.

  I slide my mouth up and down North's shaft like a porn star, and then hold him deep in my throat. That's when I start to hum. As soon as the sound vibrates from my mouth and into his shaft, the Savage Duke fucking loses it.

  He slides his cock from my lips, picks me up off the floor, and tosses me onto the bed.

  He's crawling on top of me before I can even catch my breath.

  The Duke of Northumbria pins me to the black fur comforter on his bed, his strong hands holding my wrists with a firm but controlling intensity that makes my heart flutter. I both love it, and find that it scares me.

  "I …" I start, thinking of Liam and his friends, struggling to pin me down. I don't want to have flashbacks like that with the Duke, but I can't help it. There's so much trauma inside my chest that I've never dealt with, and I can't keep pushing it back. I know that as soon as I cross that Looking-Glass, it'll come rushing back, a tsunami of pain and frustration. I'm from a world that doesn't care or respect me, and now I'm in one where everyone wants a piece.

  I don't even know what to do with myself.

  "Relax, Miss Liddell," North whispers, putting his mouth to the side of my neck and kissing me. "You're quite tense all of a sudden."

  "I
had something happen to me," I say, but I don't want to go into it. There's no point in ruining this moment. To be honest, I just want to get fucked by a dragon and not think about any of it. But maybe if I say it aloud, some of the pressure will go away?

  North stiffens up, releasing his grip on my wrists. I put my palms up against his chest, over the hard points of his nipples.

  "Someone hurt my mate?" he asks through gritted teeth, gold hair falling across his face and getting stuck to his sweaty brow. "I'll fucking tear their cocks off, and melt their faces with fire." He exhales and little puffs of smoke escape his nostrils. He leans down to rub against the side of my face.

  "They didn't get to go through with what they were planning," I say, licking my lips and noticing that North sits up and takes notice, his eyes following the path of my tongue like a man possessed. “Although the incident did ruin my life. Is it wrong for me to want to start a new one?” He shakes his head and looks at me with this undeniable certainty.

  “No.”

  Fucking kiss me then, I think, and either he's a mind reader or else he's just good with body language.

  The Duke drops his face to mine, capturing my lips with a delicious fervor that reignites the passion in my blood. Later, I'll tell him more about what happened. Right now, I just want him to touch me … all … fucking … over.

  North cups the back of my head with one hand, cradling my skull in his huge palm while he kisses me, paying special attention to my lower lip. He sucks it in between his teeth and then nibbles on it, making me writhe. His musky male and sandalwood smell is like a perfumed cloud, taking over my body and drowning my senses, making it hard for me to believe there’s anything else left in the universe.

  He's so much taller than me, so much bigger, and I love it, especially when he uses his tail to reach up and unbutton my pants. The muscular tip slips inside and strokes my already damp panties, just before he uses it to start pulling my pants and underwear down.

  "I want to be consumed by you," he growls, and I swear, even as my clothing comes off, I giggle.

  "You just want me because I'm the Alice," I say with a roll of my eyes, and North goes completely still.

  "Lies," he hisses, and there's literal fire on his breath. "It was your scent that got me. A jabberwock chooses its mate by scent. You smelled like mine from moment one."

  "I thought female jabberwocky picked their mates?" I ask, suddenly breathless again, and North snarls, biting my lower lip.

  "Sometimes they do, sometimes they rape the males, sometimes it's a mutual attraction. Allison Liddell, our attraction is mutual, is it not?"

  He sits up and yanks my pants aside, chucking them onto the floor, and then tearing my shirt off next. The fabric rends as he tosses it away like it's somehow personally offended him, and then he goes for the corset next.

  "It's mutual," I whisper as his bronze fingers slow, and he carefully undoes the hook and eye clasps, unwrapping my sweaty, aching body from the corset like he's just gotten the most amazing Christmas present.

  "Look at how beautiful you are, Allison," he snarls, and then he flips me over and puts my ass in the air, holding onto my hips as he positions himself at my opening.

  We're both naked, both sweaty, and I can tell this is going to be just as wild and animalistic as our first time.

  "Fuck me, Savage Duke," I whisper, and that's all it takes. He drives himself into me hard, his pelvis hitting my ass with an audible smack. His hips move with a wild frenzy as I dig my fingers into the fuzzy bedspread and hold on for dear life.

  There's something so freeing, so wild about that moment, and yet all I can think about is what he just said to me: It was your scent that got me.

  My scent.

  I find that wildly sexy.

  North squeezes my pelvic bone with his fingers and curls his tail around my waist to help hold me in place as he pounds into me, his balls hitting my clit and teasing just the right spot to make me groan.

  I don't feel like a lost, restless young idiot in that moment; there's something about taking control of my sexuality like this that makes me feel like a strong, capable adult. I know it's just fucking, but … I like it. And I like knowing that I do.

  The Duke isn't gentle with me, taking me hard and fast, just like I wanted.

  Surprisingly, he gets me to finish first, my body collapsing onto the bed, the only thing holding me in place his muscular tail.

  My muscles spasm around him as he readjusts his pace, transitioning to slow, steady thrusts that make me feel like I'm sobbing. It almost feels too good, too intense. I don't even know where to begin.

  North pulls out and flips me onto my back, holding his slick cock in his hand and staring down at me with his metallic eyes as he works himself with confident, sure strokes.

  I bite my lower lip and wait, absorbing this moment and filing it away for later. Surely, there will be some shitty times in my life, and this will be one of those split-seconds in time that I hold onto and dream about later.

  The Duke lets his head fall back, his glorious golden hair feathering against his dark horns, and then he comes with a sharp buck of his hips, spilling his seed all over my belly.

  When he collapses onto all fours, I think we're done, and I try to decide if we're going to snuggle in here or if I should shower and rejoin the twins or … or what. There is no Google here for me to look up when in a polyamorous relationship, should I stay in bed with guy three while guys one and two are waiting back in my room?

  Wouldn’t that be nice if there was an easy answer to that question?

  But then North's mouth is on my belly, making my stomach muscles flutter as he kisses and licks the sticky semen from my skin. My fingers tangle in his hair and then slowly creep toward his shiny, black horns, taking hold of him and steering him to my aching clit.

  His tongue finds the sensitive, swollen bit of flesh, swirling around it and working it into a stiff, desperate frenzy. It's that pleasure on the edge of pain, that line that both wants to be crossed and abhors it. It's that moment in the bedroom where you're not even sure you know your own body anymore.

  I let mine take control, thrusting my hips up against North's face as he takes hold of my pelvis, his claws pricking my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood. He licks these off, too, and then moves to my opening, loving me with his tongue before he uses his long black tail to slide into me.

  I’m not sure at first if I love it … or hate it.

  But then he crooks the tip and teases the sensitive flesh just inside my opening, and I’m done for yet again.

  I yank the Duke up toward my face by tugging on his horns, and then I kiss him, tasting a mixture of his seed and my own on his lips.

  “You’ve got the Duke on your side now, the Alice,” he whispers, kissing his way along my jaw. “So tell me, what will you do with me?”

  “Well,” I whisper, panting and tingling and enjoying the aftershocks of my double orgasm, “I think … I’m going to turn Underland into Wonderland again.”

  "Lurid, sordid, a bacchanalian affair," Dee says, twirling his hat around on the top of his head. He's dressed in red and white today, like everyone else here. The uh, matchy-matchy thing is starting to get ridiculous. Although I do have to admit he looks damn good in the red military coat with the gold buttons, the tight red and white striped shirt, and the black slacks. "That is what a Torrid Tea Party is."

  "This is a real thing?" I ask, squinting in his direction. "Like the cock-race? This is an actual thang?" I'm sitting at the edge of the training room with a spread of toadstool cupcakes, actual toadstools that glitter, and huge stacks of bread with butter. Tea is always served, and I always refuse, but this time there's also floral infused water with little edible blossoms floating on the surface.

  There is a chance these things were alive and flipping people off not three hours ago, but I try my best not to think that. No point in it. The flowers are dickheads anyway.

  I poke at one with my finger and try to bott
le up some of this weird, gushing joy that's poisoning my body. There's no way happiness like this can be caged or contained. No, it always flutters away on broken wings.

  "The Torrid Tea Party is a real event," Lar explains, his wings outstretched and drooping lazily on the floor. His key-shaped nipple rings keep catching the sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling panels, and I feel the urge to ask about them perching on the edge of my tongue. I saw the White Knight open the front gates with one, but why? Why is the most important key in the Kingdom of Hearts pierced through some guy’s nipple? "The Mad Hatter is famous for it."

  "So what makes this different than a mad tea party?" I ask, looking into Lar's blue eyes and thinking how much brighter they are than Dee's. The twin's eyes are an azure shadow, a rich jewel tone that gives his happy face a slightly darker note. Lar's eyes are almost Caribbean, light in color but heavy in saturation. In the sunlight, I'd almost call them aqua or teal or whatever the fuck that tropical blue-green color is. Sorry, but I played with black Sharpies instead of crayons as a kid. My parents were always too busy to remember to bring any when they took me to work with them. It was just me and Fred and yellow legal pads and Sharpies.

  Fucking Fred …

  "All tea parties are mad, of course," the cat says, slinking up beside me and putting his head in my lap—his very human head with the double lip piercing, the septum ring, and the silver stud in his eyebrow. Asswad. I shove him off, and he groans when his skull hits the red and white striped blanket underneath us.

  Yeah, even picnic paraphernalia is themed here.

  The King of Hearts has a big ego … among other things.

  Piece of shit, I hate him, I think, even as I get this uncomfortable throbbing between my legs. Thinking about Brennin Red turns me on. And it shouldn't. And yet it undeniably does.

  "All tea parties are mad?" I ask, trying to see if I can get clarification. It seems like, in Underland, that all of the nonsense really does have some sense to it which I suppose makes sense because the word sense is the root of the word nonsense. Sensibly, of course.