Theirs to Pleasure: a Reverse Harem Romance

by Stasia Black

  Damn it, what is wrong with me?

  I bite back the tears as I sit on his knee, set down my coffee on the ground, and snuggle against him.

  “Um, you’re not allowed to be this perfect,” I whisper against his chest, wiping at a stray tear that manages to escape my eye.

  He winces underneath me. “God, don’t say that.” His voice is dark. Full of…self-loathing? I look up at him in confusion.

  But his facial features match what I thought I heard in his voice. His mouth is clenched and eyes cast down as he looks away from me.

  “Dom? What’s wrong.”

  When he looks up at me, his eyebrows are dropped low. Sorrowful. “Sarah, have you ever stopped to think that maybe my dad isn’t the best guy in the world?”

  I sit up straighter and look at him. Really look at him.

  “But…” I shake my head. “The two of you are so close. I don’t understand. I thought you looked up to him. It’s why you went into medicine.”

  He breathes out hard and looks away again. “Things between me and Dad are complicated. I hated him for a long time growing up. I thought he was a monster. That he drove Mom away. But then things changed.”

  He takes a long drink of his coffee—straight espresso, naturally—before putting down his cup beside mine.

  “How? What happened?”

  His expression goes dark again. Brow furrowed, dark eyes stormy. He shrugs. “Some stuff went down. I don’t really want to get into it. I got really competitive with him. I did some things I’m not proud of. Anyway, all of it convinced me that maybe we weren’t that different after all. Like father, like son, ya know?”

  His eyes lift briefly to meet mine before he drops them again. “So I thought, who am I to judge him? Maybe this is just how all people are? Good and bad. Light and dark. We’re all just a little screwed up. I sort of accepted it.”

  He looks up at me again, and this time his eyes are earnest. “So yeah, at first going into medicine was part of the competitive thing. I was going to be a doctor, but be better than he ever was. I would be a surgeon and do a specialty far more impressive than his. I would be one of the best in the country.”

  He reaches out and grasps my hand again. Like he’s desperate for even more of a connection with me than our bodies touching where I sit on his lap. “But I swear it became more than that. It wasn’t until I started my residency about a year ago. But when I started interacting with real patients. Seeing the impact of medicine on human lives. Families. Seeing how loved ones rallied around the sick person. Celebrated.” Pain knits his brow. “And how they grieved when we lost someone. It all became real. Even if I hadn’t started out with the right intentions, I knew that now this was why I was going to be in it for the long haul. The patients.”

  “Oh Dominick,” I reach out a hand and cup his cheek. I hate that he feels like he has to plead for me to believe him when anyone can see he cares about his patients so much he works himself to the bone. He wants the Boston General residency because he knows it will make him the best doctor, able to save the most lives.

  “I know your heart.” My hand slides down from his cheek and I settle it over his chest. His heartbeat is steady underneath my palm.

  To my bewilderment, his face crumbles at my pronouncement. His head falls forward and he buries his forehead against my breast. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers. “Neither of us deserve you.”

  “Shh, stop it,” I move so that I’m straddling him, then I run my fingers through his long, soft hair. I don’t care if the position is slightly indecent with me wearing a dress—the bottom has a big round skirt and I’m still perfectly covered.

  Besides, all I can think about is Dominick. I just need to get as close to him as possible. I don’t know where all this self-denigration is coming from, but I hate it.

  The fact that he’s opening up to me? That I welcome. I just hate that this is what he’s been hiding in his heart. I draw him closer and kiss the top of his head, right where the swirl of his cowlick begins.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” I whisper, looking around at the beautiful spring afternoon. “Both of us are going to be just fine.”

  And being here in his arms, it feels true. I’ve felt so lost all day, but he brought me back to myself. It’s true that I haven’t fully figured out who I am yet… but maybe that’s not something to be scared of. Maybe it’s something to be excited about.

  I get to discover myself. How amazing is that?

  And when I’m with Dominick it’s like the entire horizon opens up, huge and vast. Full of unending possibilities and a hundred different paths, each with a bright future.

  Always with him by my side.

  I lean my cheek on top of his head. He pulls me back against the tree and we hold fast to one another.

  Finally, I can’t keep it inside any more. Without really thinking it through, it just pops out.

  “I love you.”

  The only signal that he hears is his fingers clutch tighter on my waist. Then, for a couple of minutes, nothing. He just keeps holding me, his head buried in my chest.

  Except…well, that’s not exactly true.

  It’s after about thirty seconds that I begin to feel it.

  I’m straddling him and where my sex is pressed up against his, I start to feel him through his scrubs. His cock becomes noticeably hard, pressing up through the denim and against the thin barrier of my cotton panties.

  My breath hitches and unwittingly, my fingers in his hair claw at his scalp.

  That only makes his cock jump and harden more.

  “Sarah.” My name is a long, drawn out groan.

  Then he shifts me against him, back and forth, no doubt seeking friction.

  The moisture that had just begun to gather becomes a flood at the needy gesture.

  Then he stops and breathes out hard, looking up. “Beautiful, no, I don’t want to take advantage—”

  I scoff. “I’m not a kid.” Then I feel my cheeks heat. I know we play at the whole Daddy thing but it doesn’t mean that I’m actually—

  “I know you’re not,” he hurries to say, obviously reading the expression on my face. And then he kisses me.

  Which is the best thing of all.

  At least until a couple of catcalls and whistles break out nearby.

  I pull away in embarrassment and Dominick helps me to my feet. He shields me from on-lookers while I grab our coffees and pastries. He slings his bag back over his chest.

  As soon as we’re out of the park, I bust up laughing, covering my mouth with my forearm. Dominick looks down at me like he was afraid of how I might react, but then he starts laughing too.

  He tosses our empty coffee cups in a trashcan as we pass. Then he grabs me up in his arms and swings me in a circle. I shriek as he twirls me around once and then twice.

  “God, I love you,” he says, grinning at me once I’m finally settled on solid ground, still giggling my head off.

  The giggles immediately die off. And like two polarized magnets, our lips immediately lock together again.

  I can’t get enough of him. My legs entwine with his. I need to get closer. I don’t care that people are watching. I don’t care that we get catcalled again.

  “Dominick,” I whisper desperately into his mouth between kisses. “Oh God, Dom.”

  My breathy words seem to break him out of some kind of trance though, because he moves away from me and grabs my hand.

  It’s not a sweet intertwining of fingers like before.

  No, he takes my hand firmly as he urges me forward. Straight down the block in the direction we came from. Back toward the college.

  “Where are we—?” But he takes off at a jog to get across the street before the light turns and I hurry to keep up with him.

  Before I know it, he’s leading me into the towering university library and pressing the button for the elevator. It’s mid-afternoon and most students are in class, so for once, there’s no one else waiting. As soon as
the elevator pings and the doors open, Dominick drags me inside. As soon as the doors close and he’s hit the button for the eighth floor, he has me up against the wall and is devouring my mouth again.

  When he shoves his leg between my thighs, all I can think is, oh God, yes.

  It’s an older building and the elevator is slow. When Dominick’s hands come underneath my buttocks and he hikes me even further up his thigh, I wrap my legs around his waist and flex back and forth for as much friction as I can get.

  “Oh God,” I breathe out. “Oh Dom.”

  “I go by either name, beautiful,” he says, grinning devilishly and only pulling away when the elevator pings again at the eighth floor.

  I’m flushed and so amped by the time he pulls me toward wherever he’s taking us, I’m sure that I’d follow this man to hell and back. God or devil, I don’t really care right now. I just need him between my thighs again. As soon as possible.

  I don’t have to wait long. Still gripping my hand, he pulls me down through several racks to a handicapped unisex bathroom. We slip inside and a second later, Dominick’s flipped the lock and has me up against the wall.

  His hand immediately slips underneath my dress.

  My gasp of pleasure echoes throughout the small tiled bathroom and Dominick’s other hand lifts a finger to my lips. “Shh,” he grins at me. “It’s a library, beautiful. Gotta be quiet.”

  And then the bastard drops to his knees and his head disappears underneath my dress. My panties are at my ankles the next moment and—

  Oh sweet Jesus—

  I can’t help the little moan that escapes my throat. What he’s doing with his tongue— Oh God, that should be illegal in all fifty states. Except no, because it feels soooooooooooooo good.

  After the next high-pitched noise, he lifts the skirt of my dress and gives me a warning look. I slap my own hand over my mouth. If only so he’ll get back to it.

  He gives me a grin. A very naughty, naughty grin.

  And then that wicked, delicious, sent-from-heaven tongue starts to suck, and twist and thrust—

  I’m right on the edge when Dominick retreats again, pulling out from underneath my dress and wiping his mouth with his forearm.

  What? He can’t stop now. I was thiiiiiiis close to coming. I reach for him to drag him back but he steps away.

  He smirks. “Do you want something?”

  I breathe out in frustration. He knows exactly how close I was. I fight hard not to stomp my foot in frustration. Then again, I did say I wasn’t a child.

  But it’s not fair!

  “Come here and you can get your treat,” he says with a clear teasing note in his voice. He leans over and grabs something I can’t see from his bag.

  “What is that?” I step forward to try to look over his shoulder.

  “Ah ah ah,” he chides, moving whatever it is out of my sight. He looks back at me and gestures toward the sink. “Assume the position like a good little girl.”

  I look at the sink and then back at him. Does he mean like when…?

  “Hands on the counter, ass out,” he confirms. He’s moved whatever he got out of his bag behind his back. The way he’s standing, so military straight, issuing commands, he looks more than ever like Dad.

  And, however messed up it may be, my sex only gets wetter.

  I obey, both feeling thrilled and disturbed.

  He comes up behind me. I can see his reflection in the mirror. He’s almost a head taller than me and so much broader. I do look like a child in comparison.

  No. Not a child. I just look very petite. Womanly. And he’s all man.

  “That’s right,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Watch us together in the mirror. Watch how goddamn sexy you are.”

  Then he reaches down and lifts my dress right up and off over my head. I left my panties behind when I stepped out of them to come over to the counter. The dress had a built-in bra so now I’m completely naked.

  Dominick tugs off both his shirts, and then it’s just him and me in the mirror.

  His hand slides around my waist and down to my soaking sex. His touch is enough to make me insane, but the image of us, naked together in the mirror, his focused gaze intent on where he’s touching me—oh God, I shudder and collapse back against him as the spasm rocks through my body.

  “Eyes open,” he whispers sharply, so I force my eyes open.

  He pushes his other finger in my mouth. I suck it even as the waves begin to rocket outward through my body. I watch in confused bliss as he drops his second hand—I think to join the first—but no. Oh—

  Oh—!

  My eyes shoot open and the orgasm lights even higher as his forefinger nudges and probes at my most forbidden place.

  I grab the counter and pitch forward, pinned between it and his body, unable to stop from crying out as the tip of his forefinger penetrates my ass.

  I clench around both of his digits as the climax peaks. My whole body goes tight and then expands like a heat bomb explodes from my center.

  I barely have a moment to even consider everything that just happened though, because Dominick uses the momentary relaxing of my body to push his finger even further in my back entrance.

  I hiss out in shock, my eyes going wide again. My head jerks up as I look at Dominick in the mirror. He was watching for my reaction, I can tell by the way his eyes are narrowed and he’s biting his lip in concentration like he does sometimes when we study together.

  He planned this.

  Maybe not in this exact way, but he always intended to get in my…in my…

  He always wanted in back there.

  My muscles flex and tighten around his finger where it’s lodged inside me at the realization.

  His pupils dilate even more than they already are and his nostrils flare in reaction.

  And an aftershock rocks through my limbs at seeing it.

  He is so turned on right now. His scrubs are so thin, I can feel just how hard he is against me. Is he planning to take me there? To stick it in there? Right now?

  Would I let him? Do I want that?

  I think of how Dad just shoved in my pussy. I didn’t feel ready for that. It hurt so bad. Even last night, there was still so much pain involved.

  It makes everything so confusing.

  With Dominick, at least so far, I’ve only felt comfort and safety. Not pain. But is he like Dad? He said that he was, earlier. Does he also want to make me cry and taste my tears?

  I clench around him again, but this time because part of me wants to pull away. A big part.

  “Sarah? What’s going on.” When I look up again, I see that, though the lust is still there, there’s also concern. “What just happened? You can talk to me. If there’s anything happening you’re not comfortable with, just tell me.”

  Dominick starts to withdraw his finger but I stop him.

  “No,” I say quickly. God, this is Dominick. As much as they look alike, he’s not Dad. “I just…” I bite my lip.

  “What? Sarah, I meant it. You can tell me anything.” With his hand that was drawing pleasure from my sex just moments ago, he pulls my hair back from my neck and drops a series of sweet, maddening kisses along my shoulder.

  I shudder against his lips. “I like everything you do to me. I-I, I’m just not sure I’m ready for you to,” I pause again, not wanting to displease him.

  “What?”

  Again he starts to withdraw his back finger, and again, I clench around him to stop him.

  “You can touch me there,” I say quickly, “but I just don’t think I’m ready to, you know…” my cheeks go pink in the mirror. “…have sex there.” The last part comes out as a whisper.

  Dominick visibly relaxes in the mirror and he smiles.

  “I know, babe.” He kisses my neck again, sucking and nipping. “That’s why I want to prepare you. This is how we do that.” And then his finger starts to rotate and move in and out. “I want to show you how good it can feel to have pressure back there
while I take you high.” His deep voice has my sex clenching and I can’t help the little whine that comes out at his words.

  “Bend over,” he whispers low in my ear. He nips at my ear and then urges me to follow his directions with his hands.

  I do and soon I’m lying with my breasts against the cold counter. Ass out. I look in the mirror at Dominick looking down at me in satisfaction.

  It’s then that I can finally see the small object that he pulls from his pocket where he must have put it earlier. Well, two objects. One of them is a little tube.

  The other is a long, thin dildo.

  My eyes widen as he squirts gel from the tube on the dildo. Well, is it a dildo if it’s not shaped like a penis? It’s just long, thin, and looks made of rubber.

  The next thing I know, Dominick’s clicked something and it starts vibrating.

  Immediately I tense up, but Dom’s calm, assuring voice has me relaxing again. He puts his hand at the bottom of my spine. “Just relax, hon. It’s the same as my fingers. Here, why don’t I open you up again first.” He looks back down at me.

  “Christ,” his voice is low, “I love getting my fingers in that sweet, tight little ass of yours. Do you know what a dream come true it will be to take you here, beautiful? Christ, I go crazy just thinking about it.”

  As he talks, one of his fingers, which he also drenched in gel, starts to probe at my entrance. “Your little body was made for me, do you know that? At the wedding it was fucking killing me to see you dancing with Dad. I wanted to rip his hands off your waist. You were so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

  As he talks, I relax, and his finger slips inside again. He presses the advantage and the tip of another pushes for entry along with the first.

  “You’re doing so good. Christ, feel how hot and slick you are. Just gobbling up my fingers.” His face takes on that look of pained pleasure in the mirror that drives me absolutely insane. And the feeling of what he’s doing to me. So foreign. And forbidden.

  But it’s Dominick.

  And the pressure.

  With how slowly he’s going, it doesn’t hurt at all. He was right. It does feel good. Everything Dominick does feels good. So good. So right.

  The second finger slips inside and I jolt in surprise.