Chapter 9
Nine
Laila, three unbelievable months later
I ’m falling in love, and I don’t know how to leave the men who have protected me, made love to me, and nourished me these past three months as I heal from my mother’s death.
I’m sitting facing away from the men with my eyes closed.
“I’m growing tired of all the traveling. I’m tired of being away from Laila.”
I continue to pretend I am asleep as they speak in hushed tones.
“It won’t be long before we can just settle down.”
Dante is always the one to smooth Bastian’s frustrations.
“I’m not looking to settle down, brother. Kids and shit are not on my list. I’m just fucking jet lagged.”
The spear lances through my heart at his words and makes me feel physically ill.
Turbulence shakes the private jet and I dig my nails into the flesh of my palms. I huff out a nervous breath. It’s like God Himself is shaking some sense into me. He knows as well as I do, I can’t continue to live under their protection for long and Bastian’s truthful words are the kick I need.
But I can’t leave either.
My stepfather will find me and when that happens a war will break out. He’ll get crushed, but there is always the chance one of my men will get hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience. They can promise me all they want that the man won’t touch me, but they don’t know him like I do. He never stops until he gets what he wants.
His parting words chase me into my dreams every single night. No, he wants me, and he won’t stop until he does. It’s part of his power trip. I am the one who showed him he didn’t control me so what does he want? Me.
I settle my hand over my stomach. He can’t have me. Or have us.
When I shared my pedigree none of my men seemed surprised by my admission. As for me, I was shocked as hell to learn they knew of my family and my stepfather. It seems they’ve already had run-ins with the man once and didn’t like him. Big surprise there.
That first night after losing my mother was hard, but they held me up and refused to let me sink into the bleakness of my soul. Ever since then they’ve kept me close, worshiped my body, and given me everything I could want and more. Designer clothes, jewelry, a place to feel safe. And in return, I willingly give them everything they want.
Except for two things.
Anal sex. Yeah, I’m a real piece of freaking work. I tend to grow shaky and can’t seem to catch my breath the few times we’ve tried. I want it, but how without freaking the hell out?
Big question.
And they want answers. I know they want to ask about the details of my mother’s death, but I can’t bring myself to talk about her. They catch me staring off into space and when I return to myself, I see the questions lingering in their minds and on their tongues.
Where do I go when I space out?
Why do I wake in the middle of the night screaming?
Why do I need a light on in order to sleep?
But they keep quiet. If they’re waiting for me to talk willingly it’s not going to happen. I know they would blaze into hell and kill Satan for me, but if one of them gets hurt because of what I tell them I would die right alongside them. Thinking about it makes my chest tighten with dread. How can I bring that down on them when they’ve done nothing but feed my need for pain and pleasure? I might as well take Dante’s knife and drive it into all three of them. There’s no difference.
I rather lose myself in blissful sex. It’s amazing how easily I can let go of him when I am around them and just live with dormant emotions. It’s easier that way.
The coroner declared mom’s death a suicide. I’m not strong enough to prove otherwise. Yet. I just need a little time. For what, I don’t know. For me to grow more powerful than my stepfather. For me to rediscover my inner warrior, blaze through Seattle to his house, and slay his evil ass?
I don’t know.
The men have been patient, but I know they will want answers sooner rather than later. I’ve counted on them being busy digging deeper roots in Seattle. From what I can tell, anyway. They don’t talk about a lot of business around me.
Phone calls come in, they walk off leaving me with the other two. Business meetings come and go, but no matter what one of them always stays with me.
Until tonight. Something is up but all three are tight-lipped.
My phone vibrates with an incoming call. I check the screen but I don’t recognize the number, so I send it to voicemail.
Placing the phone back in my bag, I take a hesitant breath before I swivel my captain’s chair around to face all three. Their whispers stop as their eyes rise to meet mine.
I falter. I knew this moment wouldn’t be easy. The weight of all their attention zeroed in on me makes my knees feel like Jell-O in an earthquake.
I draw in a deep breath. I can do this. I look at Bastian first knowing he’s not going to like what I have to tell them. He seems calm if just a little irritated.
Dante has his hair pulled into a knot near the middle of his head. I love the way a few strands always fall out. I walk over to him, and he opens his arms to me. I ease my weight into his lap. After we settle into his chair, like always, I release the clasp holding his hair with my hands.
I run my fingers through the silky length and instantly feel grounded.
Bastian is sitting beside him looking jealous. I smile, crook a finger and he leans in for a kiss. After a satisfying groan, he sits back looking smug at Con who is across the aisle from us.
I rise from Dante’s lap and move to Con. He spans my waist with strong hands and settles his forehead against my abdomen. The tip of his tattoo peeks out from his collar and I trace the border of the black ink with the tip of my nail. Fingers tighten into me and just like that my nerve ends sizzle to life, ready.
“You’ve never told me what it means?”
He looks at me. “The tattoo? It represents the death of silence. When we took over for our fathers, we swore we would not be silenced by fear as they were.”
I wish I could be that strong.
“It’s beautiful and so is the sentiment.”
His head falls back, and I continue stroking the bold, dark lines of his ink.
It’s always like this. They touch me and the world fades away to just me and them. Everything else turns to white noise.
I run my fingers through his dark hair. It’s much shorter than Dante’s. The ends barely touch the edge of his collar. “You could have left me in Seattle if all you were going to do is ignore me the whole flight.”
His massive back expands with a deep inhale. They never leave me alone.
“I could have spent my time organizing the freezer with all those cute little containers Ms. Rosa bought last week. I’m dying to find out how the lunch meat container works.”
I look between them, and the sour looks I get back say they don’t like the idea of me anywhere but with them.
“You belong with us.” Con is always blunt if a little possessive. I don’t know if he realizes it or not.
It’s touching, but again, I can’t hide out behind their power forever. What kind of life would that be?
“Ms. Rosa loves having you around, but I’m pretty sure she and the gardener have a fling going on they don’t want us to know about.”
The cleaning lady is also the cook and long-time family friend the men treat like a grandmother rather than an employee. She’s the one who made sure I was properly packed for this unplanned trip to Chicago. This nude-colored cashmere dress paired with velvet thigh-high boots in the same light-brown tone and simple gold earrings is her doing with their money. Their care makes me look like a million bucks and I appreciate the attention Con, Bastian, and Dante give me, but it won’t last forever. Nor will my time with them.
Not after I tell them my darkest secret. And then tell them the other one. I hate to burst their little bubble, but my pill failed and now I’m at least three months pregnant according to the doctor.
“If this is just a day trip I could have stayed out of your way,” I lie. I just like to hear them say they want me near. It’s a power trip to know I’m wanted. Sue me. Besides, I have my agenda for tonight.
Three pairs of eyes pin me to the floor of the private jet. Plush carpet, ivory-colored leather, and a bed in the back that will fit all four of us with some creative planning are all signs of their wealth and power. But none of those things enter my mind when I look at them.
I don’t care about the millions it took to buy this plane or the Swiss watches on their wrists. I care about the men looking at me like I just reminded them of how hungry they are.
And I have nowhere to run this time.
“You do not belong anywhere else but with us.”
I nod. Not out of agreement but I know it’s what they are expecting of me. I owe them a lot. They have made sure I am safe even if they don’t know why yet.
Con moves toward me, his movements stealthy and graceful. “And since you are so bored, how about we give you the present we have for you, da moy nevinnyy ?”
“I am no longer innocent,” I counter. And I have the proof of that truth snuggled deep in my womb.
“Aren’t you?”
The intent in his gaze catches my breath and I momentarily set aside what I wanted to talk to them about. “Con?” A pang of heat passes through me. The vision of all that muscle I know he has tucked under that five-thousand-dollar suit has me craving to feel his warm skin beneath my fingertips.
Con takes a white satin bag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of me.
“What is that?”
Bastian and Dante both move in our direction, each looking predatory in their movements. Powerful shoulders sway and roll under the material of their insanely expensive suits.
Cool steel, hot amber, and black velvet stroke over the swell of my perfectly outlined breasts in this clingy one-piece.
I swallow back a knot of anticipation. This is how it always is between us. I know what those quiet looks mean. They want to play, and I am all too willing to comply. Anything that keeps them from looking too deep and wanting answers.
I have something they want. They have something I need—the ability to make me lose myself under their touch and forget the world around us. Nothing I do will bring my mother back or make my stepfather fall off a cliff so here I am.
There are worse places.
“Men?” I whimper.
“There’s something you haven’t given to us yet. Something we’ve let you hold onto but it’s time, Laila.”
No , my mind screams. I can’t do this. Instinct drives me backward. I don’t get far. I can literally take five steps and be in the bedroom. That is it. My only escape is to give them exactly what they want.
“You’ve taken us for three months. Now it’s our turn to have what we want.”
The words left unspoken are loudest of all. I know what he wants. What they all want.
I take a step back and hold up my hands to try and reason with them, but my body—my treacherous body—pulses with desire.
It’s come to the point where I know I won’t say no. Waves of fear shoot through me, and I start to tremble.
Con is the first one to reach for me. I’m in his arms and I instantly calm.
“Shh, moy nevinny. You will do this for us. Taking all three of us is a pleasure beyond anything we have given you so far. Let us give you more. So much more.”
I hear myself say yes, but I don’t remember telling my mouth to move with the words.
“Good girl,” he coos in Russian.
“You will love it because it is your men doing it to you. Da ?”
Yes. No. Fuck why do I have to be so messed up?
The white satin bag Con holds is dropped into my hands.
“Open it,” he orders in a tone much like whiskey poured over black marble—dark and stained.
Hard steel hooks my brown eyes and I can’t look away as I do his bidding.
A silver teardrop with a beautiful rose on the end falls into my open palm. An anal plug? An anal plug!
My heart doesn’t miss a beat. It races so fast the floor beneath me starts to spin. I turn the intricate piece of silver over in my hand. The sides of the silver rose are covered in a soft material that gives the flower a beautiful sheen but also makes it safe against tender skin.
It’s perfectly designed to slide into a woman and prepare her for her man. Or in my case, men. It’s a rose for the part of me at least two of them think is untouched. Con has a sixth sense about him and there’s no doubt in my mind he knows I’ve been hurt before. Which brings me to another thought. Would they throw me away if they knew the truth of how dirty I really am? I would.
Bastian’s hands settle on my hips, and I am slowly turned to face Dante.
He takes my trembling hands and settles them gently over his chest. I can feel his heart beat steadily beneath my touch and it calms my own. His lips come to tease over the shell of my ear.
“Remember the first time we shared you in New Orleans? The sensations Con gave you as I took your virginity? How desperate you were to feel all of us at once?”
“How could I ever forget?”
Rough fingers find the edge of my dress and it’s lifted, high and higher until I feel the coolness of the high altitude over my bare buttocks. In a dress like this, there’s no room for underwear and panty lines. Lucky for me it came with a built-in bra. That is so not the case for the bottom half of me.
I take a nervous look over my shoulder. Hands clutch the sides of my ass, and I am reverently spread open like a delicate flower until my most intimate part is on display.
I watch as Con leans in and runs the tip of his tongue over the swell of one cheek and then the other. His hands dig into the flesh, and I raise on the tips of my toes, my mouth hinges open.
His hard stare meets mine and I forget I should be afraid of what is about to be taken from me.
Long fingers caress the underside of my cheeks, lift then drop the meaty flesh. Bastian likes my plump ass. He’s forever gripping it in his hands any chance he gets.
He caresses me, his seeking fingers passing closer and closer to my back entrance.
Con pops a cap open and I hiss at the feel of cold gel on my ass.
Heat flames through me. Not of pain but of embarrassment. I shouldn’t want this, but it feels so good. I trust them. I’m safe here. Safe with them. I recite the words over and over until air can filter into my lungs.
“Hold her open for me, brother.”
Con’s growl of a voice has me turning to watch him spread gel over the end of the ornamental butt plug. Bastian’s grip on me is tender yet firm.
I hiss out of surprise, and I won’t lie. My hands are shaking against Dante’s chest when Con dips the cool silver plug just inside. The pressure is instant as my hole widens over metal. It shouldn’t feel this good. I should be crying and screaming. But I am not.
Deep strokes over my spine soothe the surprise and initial burn as Con goes deeper. The mere sensations of the forbidden pain bring only pleasure.
Another inch and my walls give, allowing him to insert the toy fully to where my body clenches, holding it in place.
I raise my burning gaze to Dante’s only to find fierce pride staring back at me. He cups my face and devours my lips.
“Talk to us, malyshka . How does it feel?”
“We will be landing soon. Please prepare for descent.” The captain’s voice brings me back to reality and what all this means for how tonight will play out.
Dante’s thick accent drips with curiosity. I arch into their strokes and soothing caressing, but all too soon all three back off slowly releasing their hold on me.
I take a deep breath and tell them the truth. “I’ll either love you all by the end of the night or curse the ground you stand on.”