Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Reverse Harem Romance

“Are you sure this dress is okay?” I ask the next morning, twisting to check myself out in the dressing-table mirror. Zack rolls over on the bed and looks up at me through half-closed eyes. He looks great today, in a broad-shouldered black suit, his Viking-blonde hair loose around his face. “Very nice,” he rumbles, stretching out to grab my hip. “Take it off.”

I bat him away, trying to adjust the hem of the dress.

It’s about quarter-to-twelve, and the wedding is due to start at half past. Josh left this morning to help the wedding party set up, while me and the other boys stayed in the room. After last night, all I really wanted to do was stay in bed all day — I’m exhausted and feeling a lot cuddlier than usual — but instead, I got up at 8 o’clock to start getting ready. I’ve been shaving and plucking and curling ever since.

I’m nervous as I study my reflection in the mirror. When I picked out this dress, I thought it was perfect for a wedding. It’s a silky, mint-green piece that melts against my skin and makes my eyes glow. Considering most of my wardrobe is black or red, it’s the lightest, prettiest bit of formalwear I have. But now that I’ve put it on, I feel like a hooker. The flimsy fabric falls down to my mid-thigh and clings to my curves. “I didn’t realise how short it was. Or how low.” I fuss with the neckline, trying to tug it up. Have my boobs gotten bigger since I bought it? “Do you think it’s too… revealing?”

Zack snorts. “Since when do you care about that?”

He’s right. I usually don’t. But today’s different. If I’m honest, I’m dreading seeing Amy again after all these years. She’ll probably have invited a bunch of other teachers from Emery High, too. If I show up looking like this, God knows what they’ll think.

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Amy already thinks I’m a slag. I may as well lean into it.”

Luke looks up. He’s sitting on the other side of the bed, fixing a pair of silver cufflinks into the sleeves of his shirt. “Amy doesn’t think that, love,” he says woodenly.

I glance at him in the mirror. His face is grey.

I’m worried about him. He’s doing a good job of acting like he’s okay, but he’s been quieter than usual ever since we woke up. Earlier this morning, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth while he was shaving. At least, I thought he would be shaving. Really, he was just gripping the sink, staring blankly at the wall as the tap gushed hot water down the plughole. He looked like he was about to throw up.

“How do you know?” I ask. “You never spoke to her about me, did you?”

“She wouldn’t be cruel enough to judge a teenage girl like that,” he insists, wiping a hand over his face. “If she didn’t help you back in high school, I’m sure it was because she was just as preoccupied with the divorce as me.”

I look back at my reflection. “Hm,” I say, reaching for my mascara wand. “Okay.”

We lapse into silence again as I touch up my makeup for the fifth time, trying to breathe through my nerves. Luke checks his watch again, his face grim.

Zack looks between us. “You guys know you have to look happy at weddings, right? I’ve seen cheerier people at cremations.” Neither of us say anything. He sighs, sitting up. “Alright. Enough of this. I know what will cheer you up.” He rolls lazily off the bed, pulling his suitcase out from under the mattress. I watch as he extracts a pink silky pouch. He tugs the ribbon to open it, shaking out a string of silver beads. I recognise them immediately. They’re from my Sinsters gift box. “I brought you a present, honeybun.”

“That’s not a present,” I point out. “They were already mine.”

“My gift is the gift of putting them inside you,” he informs me. “Alright, bend over, lass.”

My mouth falls open. “But… right now?”

His mouth ticks up. “Aye.”

“I… you can’t make me… it’s a wedding!” I mean, at least it’s secular, so the ceremony isn’t in a church. Maybe I won’t get drop-shipped directly to Hell when I die. But still.

“Oh, I won’t make you come. That would be very rude, on someone else’s big day,” he agrees. “But they’ll just keep you…” He leans forward and presses a fleeting kiss on my eyelashes. “On edge.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Luke’s fingers fumble on his tie. He swears under his breath as he messes up the knot, yanking it loose again.

I consider him. “Will me squirming in my seat distract you from how awful today is gonna be for you?”

His expression darkens. “Don’t do it for me, love.”

“Yes, then.” I sigh. The idea is tempting. It will certainly make the next few hours more bearable if I have a distraction. “But what about Josh?” I know he’s excited for his brother to get married. I don’t want him to think I’m being disrespectful.

Zack snorts. “Josh won’t give a monkey’s. We’d better not tell him before the ceremony, though. Don’t want him getting hard in front of everyone.”

“Oh.” My cheeks feel hot as I look at the smooth, silver beads. “I… Okay, then.”

Luke dips his head. “Really?” He asks, his voice duskier than usual. I shiver.

“Yes.”

His lips curve up. All of a sudden, the exhaustion has drained out of him. He looks alive and hungry. “Alright. Zack, may I?”

“‘Course, mate,” Zack says, graciously handing the beads over.

Luke comes to stand behind me, placing a gentle hand on the small of my back and turning me towards the bed. “Bend,” he says quietly, stroking a hand up my back. His fingertips prickle over my skin, sending tingles flicking down my spine. My mouth suddenly dry, I bend over the bed.

“Lift up your dress.”

I do as he says. He slips off my underwear, then takes one of my hands and leads it to the bed’s wooden headboard. “Hold,” he orders.

I do, tightening my grip on the bedframe. “You know you turn into a total caveman in bed, right?”

Zack laughs, kneeling next to me on the floor. “He’s all ‘Kneel. Lick. Blow.’ I know you can do whole sentences, mate. You’re well clever.”

Luke gives him an imperious look. “Stop talking and open her up.”

“Right on.” Without further ado, Zack leans forwards and buries his face into my sex. I gasp, my eyes falling shut as he teases my entrance, his tongue dipping into me. I twist my hips towards him so his face is practically buried in the warm blonde curls between my legs, and his mouth opens on a pant. He wraps his big hand around my ankle, groaning against my skin.

I’m distracted from the spike of pleasure when something cold and hard touches my lips. My eyes flutter back open. Luke is dangling the string of balls in front of my face, his eyes dark as he watches my reaction. I focus on them, spinning prettily on the silver chain.

“Suck,” he orders, his voice very deep.

Obediently, I open my mouth and take the first ball inside. It’s hard and surprisingly cold as I roll my tongue over the smooth surface, getting it warm and wet enough to put in me.

“And the next one.”

Not taking my eyes off of his, I open my mouth wider, accepting the next ball. And the next. There are five on the string, and I don’t think I could fit all of them in my mouth, but he seems to be satisfied with three. He taps my bottom lip with his index finger.

“Open,” he orders. I do, and he carefully slips the beads out, dipping to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “Good girl,” he says quietly.

A shiver wracks my whole body. He touches my cheek gently, then turns to Zack.

“How is she looking?” He asks. “Is she ready?”

“I’m drowning down here,” Zack says happily, pulling back to look at us. His face is wet and pink.

I blush. Luke smirks. “Get up,” he orders Zack, who stands, moving aside. Luke takes his place at my back and pushes me more firmly against the mattress, so I’m bent, bare ass in the air. Cold air touches the wetness between my legs, making me shiver.

“Relax,” Luke says in my ear, dragging the string of balls between my folds, getting them slick and wet. “Are you still sore from yesterday, love?”

I nod, the memory of last night sending a flutter through me. I am sore. Sore and sensitive and needy. “I like it,” I say, closing my eyes as he gently pushes the first weighted bead against my entrance. There’s a moment of resistance, and then it slides smoothly inside of me. I clench my thighs, shifting at the odd sensation.

“Okay?” Luke asks. I nod, and he kisses my temple again, pressing the next bead into me. It clinks against the first, adding to the heaviness in my womb, and I flinch slightly. Luke soothes me with another kiss.

Slowly, one by one, all five beads are pushed into my throbbing channel. My body tenses as I start to feel more and more full, the pressure building in me.

When all of the beads are inside me, Luke pulls back and kisses the nape of my neck, carefully tugging down the hem of my dress. “How does it feel?” He asks quietly.

I stand and press my hand to my stomach. It’s an odd feeling. Heavy and full. It’s not enough to make me come, but it’s definitely enough to keep me on edge. It’s like being constantly teased every time I shift my weight. I bite my lip.

“I, um.” My cheeks burn under his intense eyes. My brain feels scrambled. “Good?”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I breathe in the sweet scent of paper and tea.

“How the Hell am I gonna talk to people?” I complain into his shirt. “I can’t even think.”

He pulls himself away from me reluctantly and nods at the high silver heels lying by the bed. “Wear those,” he says, “and I assure you. Neither will we. We can all look stupid together.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “Right. Okay.” I pick up my clutch and carefully slide my feet into the shoes. “Let’s get going, boys.” Trying to act a lot more put-together than I feel, I push back my shoulders and head to the door.

“Layla?” Luke says after me.

“Mm?” I turn.

He’s watching me with amusement all over his handsome face. His eyes flicker down to my stomach. “What’s your dress made of?”

I blink at him, confused. “Mulberry silk.”

“And what happens when silk gets wet?” He prompts.

“I… it can get discoloured. Sometimes stained. It’s hard to wash. Why?”

“Hm.” He turns to the dresser and pulls something out, throwing it at me. I catch it. It’s a balled-up bit of fabric. “You might want to wear some underwear, then.”

“Aye. Wouldn’t want your pretty dress getting ruined,” Zack agrees, crossing the room towards me and fondly stroking a hand over my behind. The clench between my legs is almost painful, and I have to shift my weight again, wincing as the beads press deep inside me.

This wedding is going to be absolute torture.