by Rye Hart
“I love every single part of you,” Chance said. “And there is nothing you could do that will ever change that.”
Our lips connected in a small, delightful kiss before he rolled on top of me and sank between my legs. Without breaking our lips, he slid into me, the thickness of his dick shivering my bones before his fingertips found my clit. He rolled into me effortlessly while my toes drifted up his legs, locking around his waist so I could draw him in closer.
But his hand was rendered motionless, and apparently, he didn’t like that.
“Brothers,” he said as he broke the kiss. “I think I’m gonna need a bit of help.”
My eyes shot open and, in that very moment, I felt my legs being uncurled from his body.
One by one, my arms and legs were pinned to the bed. I was spread wide for Chance, his eyes dancing between that boyish sparkle and that devious stare. I was completely immobile as his lips locked with mine again, but this time, he thrusted deeply into me.
I cried out into his lips, trying to pry my limbs from the hands of the other brothers. I wanted to feel him. To caress him. To cling to him and to mark my fingernails into his back. But they held me still while Chance ravaged my body, his lips suckling all over my neck and breasts and shoulders.
I was shivering with passion and moaning with pleasure while Chance took every ounce of me he wanted.
He buried himself into me time and time again, drawing us both to an end we all desperately wanted. The brothers held me down while Chance made his mark on me, my tits flying in his face as he slammed into my hips. He muffled my cries of love with his lips, swallowing my words and feeding off my energies. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. I wanted to scream out how important he was to me.
How important they all were to me.
But instead, we climaxed together. A heated and heavy moment that ran sweat down my back and caused my vision to tunnel. I could feel Chance releasing himself deep into my body, coating my throbbing and aching walls with his arousal while my body soared up toward the heavens.
I collapsed in a fit of sweat and come, breathing Chance’s air while his body rested on top of mine. I could feel the brothers slowly releasing me, their lips planting kisses on the parts of my body that Chance wasn’t currently covering up.
I was so lucky to have found my Lost Boys and I knew I would do whatever it took to make sure I never lost them again.
EPILOGUE - KYRA
ONE YEAR LATER
It was the night of the massive party and I was absolutely ecstatic. We were celebrating the success of my online channel that had just hit one million subscribers. Christmas was hanging thickly in the air and the boys were running around trying to put everything together. I couldn’t have been happier.
I knew they were proud of me, but I was proud of myself, too.
People came from town to indulge in the foods we had catered. I could hear the guys singing my praises every time I turned a corner and it was almost more than I could bear. Chance kept going on and on about how my dedication was inspiring and Harper kept talking about how I should write a book with all my advice in it. Ethan was going on about how he watched every single one of my videos the moment they came out and even my father was up and talking with people about how he knew I could do it.
It had been a long road to recovery for him and he still wasn’t fully there yet. His smile was still a bit lopsided and he walked with a limp, but this past year had dealt him a great deal of improvements. My Lost Boys had been there every step of the way to help, paying for things they had no business paying for and making sure he was comfortable during those long nights when he couldn’t sleep.
And every time I tried to take a breath, another person was wrapping their arms around me and congratulating me on my success.
Blake eventually escorted everyone out when he saw my father becoming tired. Dad was hellbent on throwing this party for me, but that meant we would be done earlier than most would expect. Even though my father had undergone a great deal of healing, he still tired easily and, by the time nine o’clock rolled around, he was ready to lay down.
One of the first updates that took place in the home was soundproofing my father’s suite. Owen and I found out the hard way that the walls in this home weren’t as thick as we wanted them to be, so Chance and Ethan set out to fix the issue. They soundproofed his room to make sure everyone was comfortable when it came to our intimate moments and I could tell my father was just as relieved as we were.
However, one of the second updates we soon made to the house was adding on a basement.
“Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable and meet us downstairs?”
I turned around at Chance’s voice, and I knew exactly what that phrase meant.
“I’d love to.” I stood up onto my toes and kissed his cheek, causing him to blush before he pulled me into his arms. He held me there for a little while, simply breathing in my scent like he had a tendency to do. I placed one more kiss upon his neck before he let me go. Then he gave my ass a little love tap while I walked away from him.
I had no idea what their surprise was for me, but I’d come to love them. The surprises they always gave me were out of this world and they only served to remind me of how wonderful it was to live with the Trents. I slid off into my room and got changed into one of my silken nightgowns so that no matter what, I’d be ready to go to bed.
Most nights, I slept with one of the brothers. Rarely did I ever want my own space, but I was glad I had it for the moments I needed it. Blake was right that first night. Sometimes, we were going to fight and, sometimes, it was going to get out of hand, and during those moments, I was thankful for having my own space to retreat into.
But sleeping beside each of them at night gave me a chance to blossom one-on-one relationships with them and I valued those just as much as I valued them as a whole.
I walked down into the basement we’d added to the house seven months ago and I could already feel the sexual tension. It was a room we kept under lock-and-key. A room we definitely didn’t want my father walking into. It was the first major surprise the boys had ever given to me. They built a playroom underneath the house specifically for all of us to fool around in. It had a massive bed that could accommodate all of us, pillows that were strewn all over the place, and it even had a swing hanging from the ceiling they could strap me in.
I had really come to love that swing.
“I’m coming down, boys,” I said. “Are you guys ready for me?”
“Always,” they said in unison.
I shivered at their voices as I wound down the stairs, and my eyes widened at the sight of them. There they all were, with their pulsing muscles and their gleaming white smiles, donning identical red Santa hats. Their bodies had tight red underwear clinging to the best parts of them, their cocks already erect for me as I made my way to the bottom of the steps. My heart thundered in my ears as my eyes raked over their luscious bodies and I smiled while I slowly sashayed my way toward them.
“So, Santas, am I on the naughty or nice list this year?”
I locked eyes with each of them, watching them all lick their lips while my tits rose to beautiful peaks underneath the thin fabric of my nightgown.
“You’re about to find out,” Harper said.
Soon, my body was flying through the air. Their hands were peeling my nightgown off while they ravished my body. Moans and grunts of pleasure and lust dripped from my lips and I was rushed into a world of thrumming ecstasy and endless orgasms while the brothers stuffed me full. They dove in and out of my depths while I writhed for them. They strapped me to the bed while they used my body for their every whim. I climaxed so hard I could barely breathe, but all they did was push me further.
Push me harder.
Test my limits until I was begging for mercy.
Harper’s lips wrapped around my clit while Chance’s cock pulsed between my lips. Blake’s cock filled my pussy to the brim before he sh
oved himself into my ass. Around and around and around we went, my holes being stuffed until there was no more come for anyone else to have.
By the time we all collapsed onto the bed, I was ready to go to sleep.
As I stretched my body over my boys, I fell asleep with a smile upon my face. I didn’t know whose bed I would wake up in come morning, but I knew I would always be safe. That was the thing with the Trent brothers. There was never a point in time where I ever felt exposed. I never felt betrayed and I never felt alone. I never felt unsafe and I most certainly never felt taken advantage of.
I was achieving my dreams, I was living with the best men I’d ever known, and my Lost Boys were no longer lost.
Why? Because they belonged to me, of course, and that was the greatest gift I could ever have been given.
The End
STEP DADDY DESIRES
A Reverse Harem Romance
Ember
Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream started, and that was my cue. I stood at the end of the aisle, staring toward the front where the groom and his groomsmen were all waiting. As I walked, I smiled brightly, and clutched my bouquet tightly. The groom's sapphire blue eyes fell on me and a small smile played at his lips. That little gesture stole the breath from my lungs and I couldn't take my eyes off him.
Jude Calloway was the sexiest bachelor in all of Chicago, or rather, I should say he used to be the sexiest bachelor in all of Chicago. In just a few moments, he'd be a married man. Standing at the head of the aisle, staring back at me, he looked every bit as desirable as he had in the pages of Forbes magazine – short cropped brown hair that was so dark it almost looked black. A few, subtle hints of gray at his temples made him look even more distinguished and sexy, and a chiseled jaw line that looked like it had been sculpted from granite.
God, he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever laid eyes on, and my heart swelled as I reached the pastor. I took my place with the other bridesmaids and waited for my mom, the bride, to make her entrance. The music changed abruptly to the Wedding March and the four hundred or so guests all stood at attention, turning to see my mother walk down the aisle where she would join her future husband, Jude, at the altar.
Lydia DuBois, my mother, made a stunning bride and she knew it. Although she was a woman who was approaching fifty, you would have never guessed it. Her blonde hair was piled high into an intricate updo, soft tendrils falling around her face. She was petite, like me, but that's where the similarities between us ended.
While I never knew my father, I was told I took after him – the Irish side of my family tree. I was born with red hair, and my mom said she knew my name the moment she saw me – Ember, to represent the fire on my head and in my heart.
Both of us stood right around five-foot-three, but where my mom was waifish, I had curves. I would never be a size two like my mother was, a fact she enjoyed flaunting.
She walked down the aisle slowly, all eyes on her in a Chantilly lace, vintage-style gown. My mom was a former petite model back in the day. Had she had the height, there was no doubt she would have been on runways around the world. But, being under the five-foot-six minimum for runway models meant she never knew international stardom. It didn't stop her from using what fame she did have to build herself an empire though – complete with rich husbands.
Yes, I said husbands. This wasn't my mom's first rodeo, and I somehow doubted it would be her last.
My eyes moved back over to Jude who was staring at my mother. He was smiling, sure, but the look wasn't nearly as intense as it should be for someone about to marry the love of his life. I guess it could just be my jealousy talking, but he seemed rather somber for what was supposed to be such a happy day. His piercing blue eyes turned toward me, catching me staring at him, and I quickly turned my attention back on my mother. My cheeks flushed red and I had to physically fight my urge to look at him again.
The ceremony, like her others, was quick and to the point. I hardly listened to the words uttered by the pastor – it wasn't like my mother would actually take her vow of forever seriously. Unless, of course, Jude was actually the one for her. But, how would they have known? They'd barely dated for three months before they were suddenly engaged. This was the first time I was meeting him in person. I had seen him around before though. Everybody knew who he was. Jude Calloway was all over magazines and television shows. The self-made billionaire had all the girls in a tizzy – me included. It almost wasn't fair that someone like my mom would get to be with him. My mom was beautiful, but ruthless, and I knew the sole reason she wanted Jude had less to do with love and more to do with his bank account. That was just a given with her.
“You may kiss your bride!” the pastor said, and my ears perked up.
I watched as Jude wrapped his strong arms around my mother's back, pulling her into him. His gaze flicked up and away from her, meeting my eyes for a split second before he lowered his face again and pressed his lips to hers. My insides ached as I watched my mom paw at this gorgeous man, wishing it was me, instead of her, in his arms.
“It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Jude Calloway!” the pastor said to thunderous applause from the audience.
The recessional music started playing and we all filed out. I was directly behind the happy couple and tried to keep my head down. Don't stare at his ass, Ember. Do not stare at your new step-father's ass, no matter how tight and fine it may be.
Right then, I knew my summer break at home – with the two of them – was going to be the hardest summer of my damned life. Maybe I should have tried to book a trip somewhere instead. The thought dissipated as quickly as it had appeared though. My mom wanted me to spend time with her and my new stepdad over the summer. She called it “bonding time.”
Bonding time. Right. For me, it was going to be a summer of trying not to get caught thinking dirty thoughts about my mom's new husband.
I should have gone to Bora Bora instead.
***
My best friend Talia was sitting near the front of the reception hall with her parents. I, of course, was seated at the front with the rest of the wedding party and was surrounded by my aunts and my mother's best friend. I was the youngest person at the bridesmaid's table by at least a couple decades. The groomsmen's table, on the other hand, looked more age appropriate for me.
Jude was a bit younger than my mother. Okay, more than a bit – he was only ten years older than me. It would have made more sense for the two of us to be getting married, looking at it that way. But, for whatever reason, he'd fallen in love with my cougar mom. I was sitting beside my aunt Janice, listening to her regale us with stories about my mother sneaking out of their house when she was fifteen, so she could fuck her boyfriend at the time.
I downed the glass of champagne in front of me. There wasn't enough alcohol in the place for this. I yawned, and Talia shot me a look of pity. I rolled my eyes and pretended to gag myself with a finger. I couldn't wait for these damn toasts to be over and for the dancing to begin. At least then, we could have some fun – and I wouldn't have to listen to these horrible stories about my mother. Seriously, the last thing I wanted to think about was my mom sneaking out of her house to have sex.
Toast after toast rolled on though, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes. Yes, congrats to the happy couple, may they live happily after ever. Yes, yes. Gag me. Truth be told, Jude Calloway was too good for my mother, and sooner or later, he'd realize it. They'd all realize it once they saw the real Lydia DuBois.
Dominic, the best man, stood up to toast Jude and my mom. I looked him over and wondered if he was single, since Jude was off the market. He was around the same age as Jude with slightly longer jet-black hair and brown eyes. He was darker complected, almost as if he spent a lot of time in the sun, and as far as I could tell, he had a killer body underneath that designer suit he had on.
He caught my eye and winked, giving me a warm and sincere smile. Maybe there were a few good men left in the world.
“Let me tell you about Jude in college,” Dominic said, his smile stretching wide across his boyish face.
Where Jude was all sharp angles and chiseled features, Dominic looked more like the boy next door. Handsome and somewhat wholesome, though in a less conventional way.
Jude chuckled, “Please don't,” he said to uproarious laughter. “No one should have to relive my college days.”
“Oh, but everyone should hear about the time you and – what was her name again? Sally? Cindy?”
“Sandra,” Jude said, clearing his throat.
He shook his head, his blue eyes staring down at his place. I swear there was a hint of color in his cheeks. He looked for all the world like his best friend was about to embarrass him. Yet, he laughed along, taking it in stride.
“Sandra. Oh, right. How could I forget? I mean, she had a tight little –” Dominic covered his mouth, pretending to be shocked at himself for almost saying something wrong. “Anyway. Sandra was completely in love with Jude. Like overly in love with the guy. She was always following him around like a lost little puppy dog...”
I started to wonder if this story was going to be wedding appropriate. My mother cocked an eyebrow as she looked over at Jude, leaning in, likely asking him the same thing that I was thinking. I mean, the last thing you want to hear about on your wedding day are the sexual escapades of your brand-new husband. Jude just patted her arm and nodded, whispering something back to her.
“Anyway, long story short, Jude was not into Sandra. Like, at all. And there was absolutely no way to get her to leave him alone, she was just always there. He just couldn't shake her,” Dominic said and motioned to the to two groomsmen beside him. “Well, being the good friends that we were, Nathanial here, and Zane and I all came up with a plan.”
A devilish grin spread across Dominic's face. Nathanial laughed, running a hand through his reddish-brown hair, shaking his head and muttering to himself. He, like the others, was also pretty easy on the eyes. Zane remained stoic and serious, staring up at Dominic as if he didn't know how the story ended. Zane's eyes turned to me, and they were dark, sparkling – looking like black pearls against a darker face. His gaze washed over me and stole my breath.
