Chapter 14
When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. - unknown
Santino
“ V i, can we talk?” I ask Matteo’s wife as soon as I see her. I like to think we’ve been friends from the moment she came here. It may’ve not been under the most optimal circumstances in her opinion, but regardless, I was glad she came. We needed her more than we ever realized, and she has become such a massive part of our family that it’s hard to imagine a time now of her not being in it.
“Sì, fratello,” she greets me with a smile, calling me her brother even though she’s my sister-in-law. “What’s up?”
I steer her toward the sitting room and head for the nearest liquor cabinet. I need a drink to discuss this, even if I am the one asking to talk and not the other way around. “Want something?”
“No, I’ll wait until dinner to have my small glass of wine.” Right, she’s still breastfeeding. Matteo would ring my neck if he’d heard me slip up and forget while being trapped in my thoughts. I automatically reach for a bottled water in case she changes her mind and bring it with me.
“It’s about mia moglie.”
Her brow instantly wrinkles as she shifts toward me as I sit on the same couch as her. I need to be somewhat close because I don’t want my voice to carry. Sure, the Estate is massive, but it means little when you have so many people living under one roof together. It’s more like if we were to each have our own average-sized house and stick them all together to be one. Doesn’t seem so big anymore. “Is Mischa alright? I thought the marriage was going well so far.”
I nod, my lips tipped down at the corners as I attempt to delve into what I want to say and how to get it out. “It is.” I stop talking, taking a drink of my Tiramisu Martini. The chilled mixture of Amaretto, coffee liqueur, and cream has the perfect flavor to momentarily steal my attention away, as the flavor has my taste buds exploding with appreciation.
Violet’s expression softens, understanding dawning in her curious stare as she watches me take a few moments to gather my thoughts. She knows me well enough at this point, considering we’ve lived together for years now, to realize when something weighs heavily on my mind. However, she’s also used to giving me a bit of patience when I need it to find the right words. After a moment, I set down my half-empty glass and meet Vi’s intelligent, deep brown gaze.
“This isn’t something I expected to be thinking about now or ever, truthfully. It's about... my feelings for her,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper.
She reaches out and places a comforting hand on my shoulder, always quick to offer us support when she thinks one of us needs it. Violet has her own long list of responsibilities being the matriarch of the famiglia, married to an extremely demanding husband, mother of multiple children, as well as having a house full of staff to look after, yet she’s always around when I need her. “You like her.”
The words seem so simple, when in reality they could mean a range of things. I nod.
She continues, “More than you thought you would. You were expecting to fuck her to get her pregnant and then feel nothing.” She’s assuming, but she’s also right. “Then go back to living your typical soldato life and not worry about her unless you need to put another bambino in her again.”
I reach for my glass again, but she stops me when her grip tightens. With a sigh, I confess, “You’re exactly right, and I’m a dick for it. I swore to myself when it was my turn, I’d be a devoted husband. When Mischa and Rorik came for dinner, I was thrown because I thought Luciano would be married next. Don’t get me wrong, I was ready to step up if I needed to in his place… but then I found her sitting at the dining table.”
“You weren’t expecting someone like her?” she asks.
Shaking my head, I run my hand over my face, then drop it to my lap. “Not in the slightest. Matty, Cris, Sal, Dante—they’re all married to…”
“Innocent Italian women,” she supplies for me.
“Her hair is like silk, the Russian lilt in her voice drives me wild every time she speaks, and don’t get me started on her body. Her curves are everything.”
“You’re thinking with your penis, which is good where baby-making is concerned, but you’re not in here to tell me about how you fuck her. You asked me here to talk, which means it’s more. It’s me, Tino, tell me what’s in here and here.” She leans close enough to poke my chest, then my forehead. She’s still the feisty asshole she’s been since day one. Something I’ve always admired about her.
“Micha’s the first thing I think about when I wake up. I hold her all night, not letting her go. If she gets up to use the restroom and is gone for more than two minutes, my chest hurts, but only until she lays back beside me,” I admit quietly, feeling a restless sort of confusion. I’ve been with other women in the past; hell, I thought I was attached to one for a while, but I can adamantly confirm it was nowhere near what I’m experiencing with my wife. “I don't want to push her for more and ruin what we’re building, but I also don't want her to feel like she can’t ask me for more if it’s what she needs.”
“As a woman and a wife, I can assure you, she wants to know. We all see the obsession in her eyes when she stares at you, how she allows you to dominate her and is willing to share you with her brother if you wish. It takes a certain kind of strength and certainty to let go of so much control and put it into one person. You could crush her heart if you wanted to; you simply can’t see it because your own feelings are clouding everything.”
“It’s too soon,” I argue, thinking I’m being foolish.
She tilts her head, brow raised as she questions, “Is it, though? Think of everything you’ve faced together since she’s been here.”
Fuck. Violet’s right. The first night I met Mischa, I had to taste her pussy, and I did. When she squirted all over the place and was embarrassed over a reaction her body had never experienced before, one I was able to make happen… well, it was the biggest compliment a woman had ever given me, and I’ve heard my fair share of pleasantries. Then there was the ambush where I found myself worrying over her safety, which, thankfully, I was able to lock her away in the office and protect her once she was back home. Let’s not forget about her nearly getting kidnapped on our fucking wedding day of all days, and then later, our wedding night.
Our wedding night was…
Perfecto.
We’ve been inseparable ever since, unless I’ve had business to attend to. My mind immediately takes a turn back around to the first time she squirted. I’ve made her do it again and again; hell, I demand she gives it to me nearly every time I fuck her delicious cunt. From that first moment on, she’s been putty in my hands. Her body responds to every touch, word, and movement when I have her naked, and I've learned to appreciate the subtle nuances of her pleasure. There’s nothing quite like the way her body responds to my touch, how her eyes glaze over, or the quiet gasps and noisy sounds she lets out when she’s about to lose control.
Just this morning, I had my wife moaning loud enough mio fratello had to have heard her. The way her ass jolted back against me to meet each powerful thrust of my hips when I drove into her over and over made it difficult to hold myself back from exploding too soon. I fought it, but when I’d felt her muscles contract around my cock and her walls spasm with pleasure, I simply couldn't hold back from claiming what I wanted any longer.
“Fuck, poco zucchero,” I groaned and ran my tongue up the side of her neck, plunging my cock deeper into her as her little sighs of pleasure grew louder, her hands clutching the sheets beneath her. “Your juicy pussy feels so damn good,” I muttered, my hips bucking once more as I began to find my release.
Mischa’s eyes were wide, her face flushed as she panted heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can't... oh, it’s happening again,” she’d breathlessly cried out, her body arching back against mine as I felt the familiar sensation of her silky cum flood her inner walls.
I didn’t want to leave the bed, reveling in the delicious feeling of being buried deep inside of her tight pussy. Her muscles clenched around me, contracting as her body shook, and I couldn't hold back from finishing any longer. I drove into her one last time, feeling her body convulse as I filled her with my cum. Her whimpers and sobs from another powerful orgasm being ripped out of her had echoed through the room, and a sense of pride washed over me knowing I’d made her come five times first thing in the morning. Afterwards, I’d carefully placed the plug back inside her tender, swollen pussy, making sure none of my cum was able to leak out.
I did that.
I made her feel so much she couldn’t control herself.
And I loved every minute of it.
“And Rorik?” Violet asks, yanking me from my blissful morning memory. “How are things between you two? Any deeper feelings?”
My cheeks are warm and probably flushed from imagining Mischa naked and yelling my name this morning when I answer her. “We have fun,” I say, not ready to admit I’ve been thinking of our alone time ever since it happened yesterday. Being with Rorik like that felt a little too good. I’ve never kissed another man before, let alone fucked one until he came into the picture.
It’s happened several times now, and with each new experience, I find myself wanting him more. Craving his submission. And his adoration.
“The look he gave you last night at dinner says it’s more than fun. At least for him, it is.”
With a nod, I give in and confess. “It is for me too. I didn’t think I could ever look at another man sexually, as a partner inside and outside the bedroom. It’s always been something Luciano has enjoyed, but I’ve stayed away from it.”
“You’d never tried anything? At all? Not even a kiss?”
Shaking my head, I respond, “Not even a kiss. Nor a thought. It wasn’t something I wanted, but it also wasn’t something I didn’t want. Does that make any sense?”
“It does. You know Matteo and I chose them for you as a pair because we thought the four of you would all work. You each have such close relationships with your siblings, to the point you’re codependent. It doesn’t surprise me you’d share Rorik. I knew from the moment I met Mischa you both would share her, Matteo as well. We thought she was a good match for Luciano, but then when we met Rorik, all the pieces seemed to click together. When I mentioned to Matteo the twins were so similar in their relationship as you and Luciano, he immediately noticed it. We knew they would be the real chance at long-term happiness for you two if they both agreed to marry you guys. As for the rest, we figured it’d take some time, but you’d all eventually figure it out.”
“You know us, Vendetti men aren’t exactly patient,” I admit, making her grin.
“Putting it lightly, but it’s true all the same. Does it bother Luciano that you and Rorik have been together, or does he share him willingly with you? I saw part of the wedding night, but only for a short time.”
Now it’s my turn to smirk. Of course, they didn’t last long; mio fratello would’ve wanted to fuck her silly after watching the four of us go at it and his wife get turned on. I have no doubt in my mind Violet was drenched from the show we put on; she loves to be shared and watched. “We have never been jealous when it comes to sex. We’re best friends.”
“We’re not talking about just sex, Tino, we’re talking about emotions. About real feelings, and not for some random person you’re spending time with together, but your spouses. They have your name, sure it may all say Vendetti, but we all know who we belong to in this family, and it’s one man for each of us.”
“Rorik and Mischa belong to two,” I comment automatically, not realizing the weight of my words until after I’ve said them aloud.
“I’m glad you realize that, because the rest of the famiglia already does. Will you and Luciano be okay, or will there be problems?”
“We’ll be fine… besides, if we weren’t, if it upset him, I would sacrifice my happiness for him to have his.”
“Why do I get the feeling he’d say the exact same about you?”
“Because you’ve been a part of this famiglia for a long time now, Vi, and you know us. We’re famiglia.”
“Sì,” she nods in agreement, her gaze warm with love. “My advice? The same as with Mischa. Our life is too dangerous; too many people want us to fall from the top. Don’t hold your emotions back, stop wasting time, and tell them both how you feel when you’re feeling it.”