Daughters of Olympus (Reverse Harem Romances)

“I want all of you,” she says, looking vulnerable for the first time in her life.

“Now?” I ask, looking over at Hawthorne and South. They watch us solemnly; they understand the weight of all of this -- we are all we’ve got. If we fuck this up, we’ll have nothing to carry us into the final hour.

We can’t lose one another.

She nods. “Unless you’re scared?” Her lips turn up, and damn, they turn me on. God, her smile makes me wish we had forever.

“I’m not scared,” Hawthorne says, moving closer, now on the floor and pressing his forehead against Ten’s back, his hands wrapping around her waist. South moves closer, sitting beside me on the couch, reaching for one of Ten’s hands and holding it.

The moment feels holy, somehow sacred, here in the middle of Styx, in a small house tucked away in the swamp, the four of us are giving ourselves over to our deepest desires. And I know that’s intense, using words like that, but it’s how I feel.

“I just love you so much, Ten.” I clench my jaw, feeling such a stir of emotions inside of me I feel like I could fucking fall apart with her in my arms.

“Don’t cry,” she whispers. “You’re not dead yet.”

I nod. “I never want to lose you.”

“We can’t think like that,” Hawthorne says. “We have to be here, now. Knowing there might not be a tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” South says, looking down at his hand that holds Tennyson’s. His is fading, that of a ghost. All our eyes are fixed on what isn’t there, the room is hushed as Ten’s shoulders begin to shake.

“I’m such an idiot,” she says, pulling South’s hand to her lips. Kissing his knuckles as if begging them to come back into focus. They don’t. “I should have told you how much I wanted this ages ago.”

“You’ve really wanted us for ages?” Hawthorne asks, pulling himself up to the couch, on the other side of me.

“Since forever.” She twists her body so she is straddling me, the hem of her dress pushed to her hips and my erection is pressed hard against her. The room is filled with so much heat it’s a fucking inferno.

She turns, leaning into Hawthorne, and she kisses him. Their mouths inhale one another, his hands in her hair, and South moves his hand to her ass as if needing to feel her body as badly as I do. She pulls back from the kiss, her breasts heaving in her tight purple dress. I want her out of it so bad; want her in nothing.

It’s time to take a leap of faith the way only a best friend can. We are safe.

“So, what are we waiting for?” I ask, lifting her chin to meet my eyes. “We’re in love and fading fast, but the night is ours.”

10

Tennyson

I’m on Lennox’s lap, and this night is mine for the taking. I slip off the leather jacket, not feeling exposed, just being seen. If I think too deeply right now, I’m scared I’ll fall apart.

I’m not dead.

Then why in the hell am I here?

I don’t know what Eric means when he says I’m Harlow’s sister. The closest thing I had to a sister was my cousin named Lark. She was my best friend in the whole world. It was just her and I, and there was no one named Harlow. No Greek gods as fathers. Our family consisted of my mother and aunt, who were witches, but certainly not goddesses.

But if I’m alive, then maybe there is truth to his story.

Lennox pulls my lips towards his again, and I stir with desire, running my fingers through his thick black hair.

“You’ve really never done this?” he asks.

I shake my head as his lips crash back against mine. Next to me, South presses kisses up and down my arm, he kisses my skin like I am something precious.

Hawthorne lifts my ass ever so slightly, moving the dress up over my hips altogether, and as Lennox and I kiss, I feel his hand move under the waistband of my panties.

I love how my men are so comfortable with one another; the fact that Lennox’s hard shaft is close to Hawthorne’s hand doesn’t seem to deter them. Instead, Hawthorne’s fingers reach low against my pussy, and I moan as he touches me.

A thousand shocks of pleasure course through my body as Hawthorne touches me lightly. South pulls down the zipper of my dress, and I lean back, needing to stand. Needing to get out of this dress altogether. I need more: all of them. Now.

They stand too, tugging off shirts.

We’re going from zero to one hundred... but are we really? They’ve known me forever and I them and all of us have been fighting for survival since we came to this place.