Triple-Duty Bodyguards : A Reverse Harem Romance

Shock flashes over her face. “Wh-what?” She stammers. “Why not?!”

I keep hammering into her in solid, rhythmic thrusts. “I think,” I say slowly, “that you need to learn a lesson.”

Anger clouds her pretty features. “Piss off. I wanted a shag, not a sermon.”

“No.” I cover her body completely with mine, pressing our foreheads together. “I’m in charge. You understand me?”

She bucks her hips. “Piss off.”

“Princess,” I growl.

“Dipshit,” she scowls back, bucking again. The movement pushes me deeper inside her, and I grit my teeth as my dick jerks. I’m not going to back down. She needs to get this through her head. I’m too scared of what will happen if she doesn’t.

I almost had a heart attack when she started mouthing off in front of the cameras this evening. For a second, I actually wondered if what was happening was real, or some sort of sick nightmare conjured up by my twisted mind. Unknowingly, she was increasing the risk X posed a hundredfold. In a country where he could very easily purchase any number of weapons to kill her. And there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I haven’t felt so utterly helpless since our time in captivity. Yes, I feel bad about manhandling Briar, but that wouldn’t have been necessary if she’d just listened to me.

I press even closer to her, thrusting in so deep that my aching balls crush painfully against her pelvis. “When I tell you to trust me, you do it. Do you understand me?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I do trust you.”

“You obviously don’t—”

“Not with my public image, no. But I trust you with my body. Hey, I’ve been practising my kegels. Wanna see?”

She clenches, and I can’t help but shout as her muscles clamp down, squeezing me.

“Touch me,” she whispers, brushing her lips against my cheek. “Just touch me, Matt. Make me come.”

I shake my head, turning to glance out of the window. LA unfurls under us, lit up like a circuit board.

Briar sighs. “If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be inside me right now.” At my next thrust, she bears down again. My dick feels like it’s about to explode.

I groan. “It’s not enough.”

She rubs up against me, animal-like, and I feel her thighs shaking. She’s right on the edge.

I stop moving, suddenly going still inside her. I can feel sweat dripping down the back of my neck. My cheeks are hot, my heart is beating out of my chest, my balls are heavy and straining for relief.

I reach up and cup her cheek. Her hips twitch desperately against me.

“Say it.” I command. The hand falls from her cheek down to her chest. I stroke her breast, my fingers dancing along the heavy curve.

She narrows her eyes. “Fuck off.”

I dip my head and start sucking down her tits. Briar sobs, her body squirming and bucking, desperate to end this, to let herself go. But I won’t let her. I lick her nipple slowly, looking up at her as she grits her teeth and quivers in my arms. She looks like she’s fighting the urge to scream.

“Say it, Briar.” My voice is low and unsteady. “Say you trust me to take care of you. Say that the next time I tell you to do something, you’ll do it. Without question.”

“Two. Different. Things,” she pants.

I flick my tongue over her little pink bud, and she winces like it hurts. “Not in this business. Say it.”

“God, Matt. I can’t.” Her breathing is ragged now, her chest heaving against my face. I can feel her channel fluttering and contracting uselessly around me as her body strains for stimulation that is just out of reach. She lets one hand fall from my shoulder, cupping my full balls. I let out a strangled noise and press my face into her soft cleavage.

“Oh, shit, Briar,” I mutter, breathlessly. “What the Hell are you doing to me?”

“Let me come,” she orders, her voice weak, and I shake my head, pressing her harder into the glass. We’re like two wolves wrestling for dominance, snapping at each other’s necks, fighting to be alpha. Thunder rumbles through the window, and Briar closes her eyes.

“I promised myself,” she confesses. “I promised that I’d n-never l-let someone else control me again.”

“Why?” I demand.

“People,” she has to heave in a gasp as I shift slightly, a look of tortured pleasure crossing her face. “People manipulate me every day. They have done since I was thirteen. The director. The studio. Fans, managers, agents, brands. When I was a kid, I let myself get talked into things I never, ever wanted to do.”

I stare at her. “You?”

She laughs. “I wasn’t always like this, Matt. When I was younger, I was a people-pleaser. A doormat. You’ve never met a kid m-more desperate to be liked. I did whatever they asked.”

My stomach twists. “What did they ask?” She doesn’t answer immediately, so I rock my hips slightly. Her eyes scrunch closed.

“Everything. They wanted everything. Too many examples.”

“Pick one.”

She swallows. “My first kiss was on-camera. I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t stop crying. But the producers made me do it over and over, in a room full of men watching me, until I got the shot right. It took all day. I was just a kid, and I had no adults who wanted to protect me.” I can feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest. “So I learned to protect myself. I promised that I wouldn’t be that kid anymore. I’d never let myself be manipulated again.”

I feel my face softening. “I’m not trying to manipulate you, Briar,” I whisper. “I’m trying to keep you safe. I just want you to be okay.”

She stares at me, breathing hard. Another bolt of lightning shatters through the room, lighting up her face bright white. Her eyes glow this pale, unreal blue, and they’re filled with raw, naked fear.

“I won’t hurt you,” I promise. “Just trust me.”

“I’ll try,” she whispers. “I’ll try. It’s all I can do.”

The lightning fades and her face falls back into shadow. Slowly, far too slowly, I straighten, bringing my lips back to hers.

And then I move. My fingers tighten on her arse as I slam into her roughly. She screams, and I feel the building groan as thunder roils and smashes in the sky above us. Blood roars in my ears, deafening me. It only takes a few more thrusts before I feel her beginning to fall apart.

I press my open mouth to her sweaty neck and groan, low and desperate, as she starts to come. My hips shudder and thrust as I finally explode and unload inside her. The feeling is intoxicating. I practically black out. I can’t think. I can’t see. It’s all I can do to keep holding Briar up as she wraps herself around me, choking and shaking. It’s like I’m draining my soul into her.

Eventually, eventually, the glow starts to fade. When I open my eyes, Briar is shivering hard against me, her head buried in my chest.

“Down,” she gasps. “Before you drop me.”

Still inside her, I carry her to the bed. We flop down onto the sheets. For a minute or so, we both just lay there, panting, slick with sweat. Briar cuddles into my side, breathing me in like she’s huffing my scent.

I curve a hand against her cheek, tilting her face to mine. My thumb strokes her cheekbones as I assess her expression. “Alright?” I ask quietly.

She nods sleepily. I press my lips to her forehead, then gently pull out, sliding out of bed and walking awkwardly to the bathroom. I clean up and wash my hands, then turn to see Briar still sprawled over the pillows, staring unabashedly at my ass. I lean in the bathroom doorway, staring right back. “What now?” I ask.

She lifts the corner of the duvet. “Come back.”

“Yeah?” I can’t hold back my smile. I climb back under the sheets and wrap my arms around her again. “I never would have expected you to be so cuddly,” I murmur.

“I’ve literally been using Glen as a human teddy bear for the last week.”

“Does it help?”

She nods into my shoulder, and I pull her closer, my chest swelling. The sounds of LA filter through the window, filling the room with the muted sounds of car honks, sirens, and shouts.

She curls a bit of my hair around her finger. “What does it feel like? A flashback?”

Not this again. I give her a flat look.

She shrugs. “Sorry. I’m nosy. You don’t have to say.”

I press my lips together. I don’t really want to tell her, especially not now. But she’s promised to trust me. It’s only fair that I trust her, as well. “They’re not all the same,” I say quietly. “Occasionally, I see things. Most of the time, I just feel the emotions I was feeling when it happened.”

She frowns. “What, like, you’re just having a conversation with someone, and then you suddenly feel like…” she trails off.

My stomach lurches. “Like I’m watching my teammate getting murdered in front of me. Yeah.” I kiss a freckle on her shoulder. “Thought I was going mental for a long time. At the beginning, it was… awful.”

“You’re not mental,” she says softly. “Unless being really goddamn annoying is a new diagnosis.”

I snort, reaching out to touch her hair. “You should go sleep with the others.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She pinches my hip. “You can’t delegate post-coital cuddling.”

“I don’t want to,” I admit, “but at the rate I’m going, I’ll probably wake you up screaming.”

She takes my free hand, pressing our palms together. “How do I help? When you do?”

It’s the last thing I expect her to say. For a moment, I’m speechless, struggling to find an answer. She stays quiet, breathing softly against me. “I don’t know,” I say eventually. “I don’t think you can.”

“I’ll find ways,” she decides, and a soft noise falls out of my throat. I tug her closer to me, but something’s wrong. She’s not relaxed.

I frown. “What is it?”

“What’s what?”

“You’re all tense.” I squeeze her butt. “Go soft.”

“I can’t believe you don’t think you’re bossy,” she mumbles, obediently letting her body relax against me. Happiness rumbles through me, and she laughs, petting my chest. “You’re purring.”

I bury my lips in her hair. “What’s wrong?”

She winces. “Do you think X will respond to what I said at the press event?”

“Honestly?”

“No. Please present me with your most elaborate lie.”

“Yes.” I press a kiss to her ear. “I do.”

She swears under her breath. “Badly?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll deal with it tomorrow. We’ll keep you safe, princess. ‘S’long as you let us.”

She sighs, sitting up and leaning over the edge of the bed. I watch through hooded eyes as she pats around the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, eventually pulling out her phone. She settles back down next to me, bringing up her twitter account, and starts writing a new tweet. I look over her shoulder. It’s just three words.

I’m sorry X

She publishes the tweet and drops her phone, grimacing with disgust.

“Let no one say I didn’t try,” she mumbles, curling up against me, her eyes falling closed. “It’s his move, now.”