A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (19 page)

Marques tuned out her screams for more and cries of need. If he didn’t, she would turn him into a minute man. Already the visual of the spread buffet of her curves made him crazy to dig deeper inside her. There was no way he wanted to be thought of as a two-pump chump with this woman. Soon enough, she screamed his name and slithered across the tile on her hands and knees as if she wanted to get away. But he wasn’t having any of that, and wrapped her hair tighter around his hand and used the other at her neck to cup the fragile column in front. His mouth found her nape and bit slightly, the clench of teeth sparking more flames inside her. He fed her clenched pussy more cock and sucked the injured skin he’d just bitten. The suction at her nape made her soaked snatch quiver, and he kept at it, wanted to feel her go wild when she found out there was nowhere to go. He bit her once more on top of the now half-dollar-sized blemish he’d crafted at the delicate join of neck and back. When his teeth met her flesh around the bruise, she went mad and flung herself against him. Her hips jerked, shook, rolled, and quivered all at once before she cried out again to signal the veracity of the orgasm which was stronger than any other he’d given her yet. When the orgasm spiraled down his spine, he let it and quickly backed the length of pipe out of her convulsing pussy. His cock bucked between the ripe halved mounds of ass, and his ejaculation stained the listless silk fabric that skimmed her fleshy curves.

When she stopped moving, he leaned in closer and heard each desperate breath forced past her open lips.

“So you think that another man would make you feel this good? Do you think another man could fuck you like you need it?” he asked her against her bowed head, which was canted to the left, giving him better access to the small shell of her ear. He felt her shiver before she shook her head twice.

“Yeah, you and I both know it. I wouldn’t dare disrespect you by eating a meal with another woman without telling you first, let alone wearing clothes and cologne you gave me. I want an explanation, followed with an apology, and you better make it good.” His jaw clenched, and he felt his teeth grind together in back. Even after the frenzied sex right here and now, he was still infuriated. He wanted to spend his wrath on her form and let her feel every bit of the acrimony he’d been served for lunch.

“Yes, Marq.” Her amends were given with her mouth and hands right there on the marble tiles. He loved the look of her mouth stretched around his cock, head bobbing along his length as she slurped the capped head. She even used her teeth, which scraped slightly at odd moments. Damn, if it wasn’t the best head he’d ever had, hands-down. What she lacked in finesse was made up for with enthusiasm and pure lust, and she loved to hum as the wet heat of her lips caressed him. His hands were fisted in the damp locks crowning her scalp, and they aided the face fuck. He couldn’t even look down at her for more than a moment or two. The visuals of him ravishing her mouth were enough to make him come prematurely.

It took two days before either of them walked straight, and Jamison wore numerous bruises across her skin when they finished multiple rounds of irate fucking. She had hickeys across every limb, dotting her breasts, the top of her mound. Even her feet carried one or two blemishes. And that was just from his mouth. He didn’t let her out of bed that afternoon. In fact, she only left the memory foam topped mattress to use the bathroom or change the sex-and-sweat-dampened sheets, only to need a new set scant hours later. They even ate meals there the next day, fluffy pancakes in the morning with Morningstar vegetarian bacon, homemade soup, and crackers at lunch. Dinner was a pizza made on naan bread, followed with strawberries eaten from her belly button, the fruit chased with champagne drunk from the hollow created between her mound and clamped thighs. He loved the nose-tickling bubbles that were flavored with her juices, and he savored nearly a full bottle of bubbly that way. He’d pour a small mouthful first and sip the small taste without wasting a single drop before he’d inundate his makeshift cup with more.

* * * *

The last Saturday morning with Marques, Jamison woke up alone. The moment her eyes opened and scanned the room for Marq, she knew she was screwed, figuratively and literally. Marques had her stuck on stupid, and she needed her space desperately. He had taken her over so well she no longer knew herself. Or even what she wanted. She’d had numerous orgasms, but they hadn’t even spoken aloud what was tantamount to everything she needed to know. They were coming onto their last days together, and she needed to know she wasn’t the only one falling here. She rubbed her face and began the process of crawling out of bed. Her legs seemed boneless, she had no spine, and every muscle was tender. Marq made sure he showed appreciation for every inch of her. She had even given him a foot job using the arches and her toes last night for Pete’s sake. That definitely put a new spin on an old-fashioned. By the time she stumbled from the large bed, she had to lean against various objects on her way to the bathroom.

She was so exhausted she could barely brush her hair or even wash her herself. But she did, even if it took her three times what it should have to complete the simple task of her toilette. She didn’t have the strength to get dressed, so she chose to put on of Marq’s heavy cotton robe instead. When she finally made her way into the kitchen, Marq had kindly made breakfast and left a Post-it note on top of the covered platter.

Eat me. Will be back by two.

Marq

The script was heavy, written with a sharpie or dry erase marker on the small yellow square. When the platter was uncovered, she found a bowl of her favorite granola topped with fruit and a coffee mug with only sugar in it. It was just the right amount for the mug’s size and all she had to do was turn on the coffeemaker for a freshly brewed cup of the nutty grounds she smelled. When she finished eating, Jamison went back to work as she had a few free hours until Marq would return. When she checked her e-mails, there was one from Duke. There was only a single sentence.

Invite me to the wedding.

She didn’t respond since she had no idea what she should say. There was no way she and Marq would be getting married. She was a poor orphan and barely avoided a jail sentence for her act of self-defense. He was a wealthy man of the world, and nothing was too good for him. Even if Marq wanted her like that, he would be disgusted with the truth of what she was capable of.

She felt less weak now and dressed simply in a pair of chestnut colored tights and a bright green, hip-length tunic T-shirt with only one small breast pocket. She didn’t put in her contacts, opting to use her glasses, or she should say the ones Marq bought for her their first week together. They were sleek Burberry, with little studs running along the arms of the frame and in her favorite shade of grape purple. By the time she finished working and responding to the few e-mails in her inbox, she was ready for a nap. It was just after twelve, and she set her alarm clock so that she would be awake when Marq came back.

Jamison was in Never Never Land dreaming of cosmopolitans and sex beneath a tropical midnight when something began pulling her from her slumber. At first she thought it was the alarm clock she’d set in anticipation of Marq’s arrival home, but she noted there was still a half hour until the phone was set to go off. What woke her? she wondered, slightly confused. But moments later she heard a knock on the door. Apparently whoever was there had grown impatient as the knocks escalated in volume and cadence while she laid there. She rubbed her eyes and for the second time that day climbed from bed.

When she opened the door, there was a beautiful woman of indeterminate heritage. She definitely wasn’t white, although it could be somewhere in the hodgepodge mix of features. Her eyes were at an Asian slant, lips full and sensual. Her skin was a rich gold as if she tanned easily. Her hair was a bit longer than Jamison’s, but the skein of locks was impeccably smooth. The woman looked like she belonged in a Pantene commercial or something. The unknown female was reed slim, and her carriage was perfectly straight. This was a woman who knew her worth for certain, never had an issue with speaking to people or shame at who she was, and for sure made Jamie a bit self-conscious about her own casual appearance.

“Hi, I was looking for Marques?” The woman’s voice was melodic and soothing. Even though Jamison wanted to be wary of the beauty, she couldn’t be. There was a kind note in her eyes that was easy to respond to in a like manner.

“I’m sorry, he isn’t here right now. Can I take a message for you? He should be back later.”

“Not really, I see that he’s occupied, so I’ll just be on my way.” The woman said occupied as if the word meant sex. Jamison found herself curious as to who the woman was. Her intuition told her the woman was Marq’s previous lover, but she had to know more. Before she knew it, she was speaking and couldn’t take her hasty words back.

“Would you care to come inside? He’ll be back in a moment.” The woman appeared surprised, as if she wasn’t expecting the invitation, and in fact the lady had already half turned around when Jamison acknowledged her.

Jamison opened the door and let the stranger inside. It was apparent she knew her way around the house as she hung her lightweight jacket on the waiting rack by the door and took a seat on the nearby recliner. To be polite, Jamison extended an offer for a drink, but the woman refused the proffered beverage. Jamie sat down, and mirrored the posture of the relaxed woman in front of her. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she knew there was information to be gleaned.

“Hello, my name is Jamison. Who are you?”

“My name is Dakota.”

“Well, not to be too forward, but I have a feeling that you want to say something to me.”

The beauty looked taken aback at the blunt phrasing Jamison used.

“Yeah I guess you could say that. You’ve probably already guessed, but Marq and I have been lovers.” When the words left Dakota’s lips, the silence that followed was so profound, a pin drop could have been heard clearly. Jamison didn’t speak. She knew what Dakota would say before it was said, but it didn’t lessen the shock of hearing the bold words aloud. “I assume you are the newest member of the harem?”

“Harem?” Jamison heard the incredulity in her own tone, but couldn’t stop herself for the anything in the world. The expression on the young woman’s face at Jamison’s one word query was telling. If pictures were worth a thousand words, the flickers of emotion that scrolled over Dakota’s face were worth millions.

“I appear to have spoken out of turn.” Those were the only words to leave Dakota’s lips after the major faux pas.

“Seeming as conversation is a two-way street, Dakota, you certainly didn’t speak out of turn. But you know I’m not letting the scintillating turn our tête-à-tête has taken end there. What do you mean by harem exactly?”

“I think you need to speak with Marques. I’ve put my foot in mouth enough for one day.”

“Sorry, Dakota, but we are having this discussion. Right now. You don’t get to interrupt my afternoon nap and then leave me hanging with more questions than answers.”

“You’re right, but I don’t know what I could tell you to make this less ridiculous than it already is.”

“Yep, it’s a circus all right, so you may as well start from the beginning.” The beauty took a deep breath as if she was headed for a cannonball into a summer pool and she wasn’t ready to take the plunge.

“Marq and I met nearly seven years ago. We’d both moved here from different parts of the country. He came from Connecticut.” And Jamison looked at her closely before she nodded to prod her to continue. “And I moved here from Florida. One night I found myself downtown barhopping on a Saturday night. Marq was in the last bar I’d hit up, sitting by himself nursing a beer. He looked miserable, yet so darkly handsome I couldn’t resist approaching him. He presented me with a contract. You know what I am talking about, right?”

Jamison nodded again tersely. She knew exactly what she meant.

“All right then, well the rest is history. Marq doesn’t fuck without the contract at all, and I had to have the chance to lie with him. He’s outlasted any other relationship I’ve ever had.” When Jamison felt her mouth gape open, Dakota hastily rewound her conversation. “Now when I say relationship, please don’t mistake me. I mean as lovers, not as people in love. I know he isn’t the man for me. But he makes wonderful practice. Somehow he sets a pretty high standard, and I can’t imagine being with a man who is unable to fuck like him. That’s why all of my prior relationships have failed, not because they were bad men but because they were too good.” Jamison knew exactly what she meant. “But Marq is a nice guy, for the right woman. It’s just too bad it’s not me. And from the looks of it, his harem is down to one now.”

Yeah right, Jamison thought.
It’s just that his fix of me is limited. As soon as I walk out of this door for good, he will be fucking you or some other woman in this so-called harem.
But she kept the snippy thoughts to herself. Instead she smiled slightly and let Dakota finish her story.

“But his harem is really just five of us, and we rotate turns with him, even sometimes double up.” Dakota smiled as if she wished she could try that on her. Not happening, she was strictly dickly. Jamison face must have revealed what she was thinking as Dakota addressed her again. “Yes I am bisexual. I love men and adore women as well. But I can tell that’s not your cup of tea. Although if you ever want to experiment with true sensuality, please look me up.”
How flattering. But still, no thanks.
When Jamison closed the front door on Dakota’s exit, she looked at the clock. She had a scant quarter hour to get the hell out of Dodge before Marques came back. She didn’t leave because of the harem. Most men had several lovers at a time. It was the fact that she couldn’t have him permanently, nor would he have her only. There was no way she could make love with him and know he had just slept with Dakota or any other woman, as a matter of fact. Even if it hurt now to leave, it would hurt worse later, when she was head over heels in love. By the time she grabbed her purse and toothbrush and walked out of the door, it was too late. He was home.