6. Sierra
SIX
Sierra
I tab out of the university’s online classroom system to check my emails. I should probably be doing all of this at a real desk, but Yuri had hooked me up with a lap desk, so I’m ruining my posture by working in bed.
All of my professors but one have given me new due dates for my assignments, but the last one has been annoyingly slow to communicate with me. It’s not like he can refuse to give me an extension when I have a note from the hospital covering the dates I missed, but that doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on me.
Unfortunately, the new email I spotted isn’t from any professor.
It’s from Kyran.
I give serious thought to simply deleting it without reading it, but in the end, my curiosity wins out.
Sierra,
I’m sorry for losing my temper. I hope you understand I’m worried about you. I miss talking to my favorite sister lol. I know you don’t really want to talk to me, and I am trying to respect that. I was hoping maybe you’d want to email back and forth though so we can at least keep in touch.
Love you sis.
Kyran
Tears well up in my eyes, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides.
It’s not the words themselves that have me so upset. It’s the fact that without a doubt, he had Silvano fucking Cresci help him with it instead of doing it on his own. If my brother had written it by himself, there would be more than an errant “lol” in there. It would’ve been littered with typos and abbreviations to the point where I’d have shaken my head in exasperation.
I wish I was thinking of the email with fond frustration, but instead, I can feel Silvano’s smarmy touch on every fucking thing my brother does.
I exit out of the window without responding.
If he really was going to respect my wishes about not talking, he wouldn’t be trying to contact me.
As much as I want to lament the way men seem to have a problem taking no for an answer, I don’t feel like sitting alone in sullen silence.
I close my laptop with more force than necessary, getting up and grabbing the lotion. The gunshot wound is healing well, better than I’d expected, but I’m definitely going to have a scar.
Like it wasn’t bad enough that I already have a brand—their brand—on my chest.
I scowl, but I’m too agitated to sit in here alone.
I’d normally go to Yuri, but he’s still self-flagellating, and Nikolai is always hit or miss. That leaves Konstantin, who is calm and rational enough for the most part while still managing to be comforting in his own way.
I head to his office. To my surprise, the door is open—and all three of them are inside. They’re all sitting around the small coffee table, where finger food is laid out. Konstantin and Yuri are on the couch, while Nikolai is in the armchair.
Yuri isn’t wearing a shirt, so I can see all the tattoos across his body.
“Hi,” I mumble. I hold up the small bottle of lotion that’s supposed to help reduce scarring. “I thought one of you could help me with this?”
They all know I don’t need help with something that basic, but none of them call me out on it.
Konstantin nods and pats his lap. “Of course, Sierrochka.”
I head over to him, and Nikolai gets up to close—and lock—the door behind me.
Of course, now my curiosity gets the better of me too. I glance at the coffee table. “You three having a light lunch? In here instead of in the kitchen or dining room?”
Yuri’s eyes dart to Nikolai, then he shrugs. “Just discussing some business.”
Business. Right.
I scoff lightly, but I don’t challenge them as I settle down on Konstantin’s lap. I hand him the lotion, then unbutton my shirt and slide it off of my shoulders so he can inspect the wound. “How’s it look?” I ask him. It looks nasty to me, but I don’t know enough about gunshot wounds to really be able to tell. The stitches are already out, but the skin is tender and it still hurts to lift my arm too high.
“It is healing well,” Konstantin reports.
I nod. At least there’s that. It looks ugly, but so had the brand when they’d first burned that into my chest.
Yuri averts his gaze, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to say sorry again. I get ready to chastise him about it for the hundredth time, but Yuri doesn’t end up saying anything. I guess I finally got through to him.
“Here, I’ll help,” Nikolai says, crowding into my personal space. He’s exasperating, as always, but it’s still a nice distraction from my brother’s email.
My mood falters, threatening to tank again, but I force those thoughts away.
“Thanks,” I say instead of telling him to fuck off.
He grabs the lotion from Konstantin’s hand and squeezes a little bit onto his fingers. I’m not sure if it’s actually still as tender as it feels or if it’s that his touch is rough as he applies it, but I grit my teeth until he’s done rubbing it into my skin.
Konstantin strokes my bare belly through it all. It’s soothing, until I remember the reason why he’s fixating on my belly.
Because I’m pregnant.
Because there’s a child inside of me.
I make a soft noise and lean back to rest more fully against Konstantin’s chest.
“Is something wrong, Sierrochka?” Konstantin asks gently.
Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I think about the email, and I hate it. I hate that I’m an emotional train wreck, that it’s all his fault—his, and Nikolai’s, and Yuri’s—and that I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings.
I shake my head.
Yuri sits down next to me and Konstantin and places a hand on my thigh. Only the jeans dull the warmth of his hand. “Do you need us to stab somebody, Sierra?”
I let out a harsh laugh. “There’s definitely someone who deserves to be stabbed.”
As mad as I am at Kyran, though, my anger isn’t directed at him. No, it’s Silvano who’s taking up so much space in my head, who I can’t seem to escape from no matter how hard I try.
“But we can’t stab him,” I say, sighing.
“Of course we can. Tell us who. Your brother?” Nikolai guesses.
“A professor,” Yuri suggests, glaring at Nikolai. “One who is threatening to fail you because you missed classes.”
I sigh. “No, no, and no,” I tell them. “And there’s no need to stab everyone who’s…” What? Not even annoying me. There isn’t a word strong enough for what I’m feeling. “Bothering me,” I decide on.
Konstantin kisses my bare shoulder. “Maybe we can distract you. Would you like that, Sierrochka?”
Yes. No. I don’t know.
All of those answers flicker through my mind. I know what “distraction” would mean, and I’m not sure I want it. But it’s been a few weeks since my discharge from the hospital, and I knew they weren’t going to be satisfied with some handjobs here and there forever. I’d been lucky to go this long without them making demands—and I’m not fooling myself. It’s because of the baby, not because of me.
“I can eat you out,” Yuri says, letting his hand wander down my thigh and to my cunt.
“You could lick her clit while she’s riding Konstantin,” Nikolai suggests with interest.
None of them have eaten me out before this, and it feels weird to think of them doing it now. With as much sex as we’ve had, it should’ve come up at some point, but I hadn’t been interested. I guess in their typically male fashion, they hadn’t even thought about it.
Until now.
“Are you sure he knows how?” I ask dryly. “Because as far as I can tell, none of you know how to do more than rub a clit.”
Konstantin laughs, but Yuri looks offended.
“We’ve always made sure you were satisfied,” Yuri says. “At least, I did. I don’t know what these two fuckers were doing with their cocks and mouths.”
“There’s a difference between satisfied and completely sated,” I retort. “You like blowjobs, right? Why wouldn’t I like getting eaten out?”
“You could’ve said something,” Nikolai complains. “It’s not our fault you didn’t tell us you wanted it.”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t think past your own dicks to consider it,” I say. I sigh, waving a hand. “It’s fine. It’s fine, really. I don’t know that I would’ve wanted it before anyway.”
Konstantin suddenly spreads his legs wider on the couch, forcing my own legs apart. Even though I’m still wearing the jeans, I blush and try to slide off his lap. Konstantin’s hand on my bare stomach stops me in place.
“I like this idea. I will fill Sierrochka, and one of you will get your mouth on her.” He squeezes my side. “You will be convulsing with pleasure.”
I shiver at the thought of it. I’ve been the subject of oral sex once or twice, and it’s never been particularly amazing. My ex had mostly complained about it, and he’d managed to completely avoid my clit.
“We’ll see,” I say. “Who thinks they can do it the best?”
I wonder if Nikolai would even be willing to have his face that close to another man’s cock. For all that he’d sounded eager, he hadn’t been the one to volunteer.
Yuri slides off the couch and gets on his knees in front of me. He looks up at me with a rakish smile, and my breath quickens.
“I have always been adventurous ,” he says, going for the button of my jeans. “I bet I can make you come before Kotya does.”
I let him help me out of my pants and panties, and I perch on Konstantin’s knee. “You might need to get me wet first if you’re wanting to be adventurous,” I tell Yuri pointedly. “I can’t take Kotya dry like this.”
Nikolai snorts. “I can get some lube, if you want.”
“Nope, I can handle it,” Yuri says, nipping the inside of my thigh. “She’ll be desperate for cock soon enough.”
Konstantin kisses the back of my neck, then unhooks my bra. “Then get to work, Yura.”
I shift so Konstantin can slide my bra down my arms, and he discards it onto the couch next to us.
Yuri spreads my thighs wider, and I lean back against Konstantin. The position is awkward, but I forget all about that the first time Yuri’s tongue swipes along my inner folds. My breath hitches, and I bite my bottom lip. Fuck. I’ve never had a high sex drive before, but they somehow manage to make it feel so damn good.
Konstantin plays with my nipples, taking care with my injured side, and it feels so good that I moan.
Nikolai gets in close, lips pressing against mine as he leans in.
I let him kiss me, but when he tries to go for a second kiss, I duck away so Nikolai ends up with his face inches from Konstantin’s.
“Zaya!” Nikolai complains.
“What?” I ask innocently, though my breath hitches before I can continue speaking as Yuri demonstrates what I’ve been missing out on. “I thought it’d be fun to see you and Kotya kiss again, too. I don’t need all the attention on me.”
Nikolai squirms, looking from me to Konstantin, then back. “I… ah…”
“Why do you want to see that, Sierrochka?” Konstantin asks. “There is nothing attractive about two men kissing.”
I feel Yuri go still against my cunt.
“You’re both handsome men.” I shrug. “Seeing you kiss is like… double the handsome. I think it’s hot.” Plus, I like that they’re doing it because I want them to, but I don’t say that aloud. “Why do men like seeing two girls kiss?” I counter.
Konstantin grumbles. “Fine, fine. Come here, Nikolai.” He reaches out to Nikolai, and Nikolai blushes as he allows himself to be pulled in.
The angle is incredibly awkward, with the two of them essentially kissing over my shoulder. Yuri redoubles his efforts.
I am completely surrounded by them. Their warmth buffets me, and like this, it’s so easy to forget what they did to me.
I don’t even want to remember. It’s better like this, to focus on the good they’re doing for me and ignore the harsher sides of them.
If I could do that with my own family for years, why not here?
I gasp when Yuri thrusts his fingers inside me. He strokes my inner walls with precision, going for exactly the right spot while he continues to lick and suck at my clit.
Between watching the two men kiss and Yuri’s efforts, my cunt starts to get slick, and I groan as I resist the urge to grab Yuri by the air and shove him even closer.
Nikolai withdraws from Konstantin, and I don’t miss the flush in his cheeks or the way that his cock tents the front of his pants. “Is that enough?” he asks.
“One day, I’ll have you sucking his cock,” I say on a whim to see the way he sputters and turns redder.
Yuri pulls away and says, “He’d choke on Konstantin.”
I let out a little whine of complaint, but I’m curious. “Have you two ever…?” I prompt, biting my lip as Konstantin’s fingers tweak my nipple. “With a woman, or without, or whatever?”
“Why all the questions, Sierrochka?” Konstantin asks. “It is time to turn off brain. Enjoy yourself.”
Yuri rests his head against my thigh. “A few times,” he whispers, and I’m not sure he meant for anyone to hear it.
I stroke his hair, trying to imagine it. “Because it’s hot,” I repeat. “He’s about to get a big faceful of cock when he licks me while you fuck me. It’s only fair to ask if he’s gotten up close and personal with that monster before.”
Nikolai takes a step back like he thinks I’m going to force him to do it next. I don’t have to ask whether he’s shared with Konstantin that way or not.
But I’ll be asking Yuri more about this later on, one way or another.
“All right, enough. You are ready,” Konstantin says, without asking me if I actually am ready. He reaches between us to undo his belt and fly. A moment later, I feel his erection pressing against my bare ass.
It’s as big as I remember, of course, and I feel the usual sense of apprehension at the idea of it penetrating me. I’m wet enough for it, and Yuri’s right there, ready to make sure I stay that way.
“Here, I’ll help,” Nikolai offers, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up. He jars my shoulder, and I wince. Between his aid and Konstantin’s, I end up poised atop Konstantin’s cock, sucking in a breath as I prepare to be impaled.
Fuck, am I really ready for this?
Do I have a choice?
I’d planned on finding company, not having sex, but I can’t deny that this feels good.
It feels better than thinking about Kyran’s email and Silvano’s hand in everything Kyran does.
Konstantin guides me down slowly, and it burns, but my pleasure ramps up too. He fills me so completely, and all my thoughts scatter as I focus on the sensation.
“Tight,” Konstantin murmurs, stroking my belly. “Because we had to take a break.”
“The break is definitely over now,” Nikolai says, nuzzling my neck before kissing his way up to the shell of my ear. He nips it lightly, his hand coming around to cup one of my breasts and tease the nipple as I squirm atop Konstantin.
Yuri waits until I stop moving before he gets back into position. He licks my clit again, then laughs. His warm breath ghosts over the sensitive nub.
“How’s this going to work if you’re jiggling her around, Kotya?” Yuri asks.
That’s a good question, one I’m impatient to have them resolve.
“Move slower,” Nikolai suggests helpfully from right beside me, twisting my nipple harder. “Never mind. You should hurry up. I want a turn. I’m so sick of having blue balls all the time.”
The words give me slight pause, and I pull back, having to rest my head against Konstantin’s shoulder as I ask, “You weren’t with anyone else?”
Nikolai sounds vaguely guilty as he responds, “No. Why would I be?”
Yuri’s hands on my thighs tighten, and he pulls back. “If you have somebody else, you can’t be with Sierra.”
“I wasn’t!” Nikolai protests. He pulls back, and I can see how earnest his expression is as he insists, “I wasn’t with anyone else. I…” He ducks his head, some hair falling into his face. “I thought about it, all right? I’m only a man. But I didn’t, and I won’t.”
I don’t know how I feel about that. Their possessiveness, the fact that Nikolai nearly went looking because my cunt was out of commission for a few weeks, Yuri’s insistence that they get to decide who gets me and when…
“Can we have this conversation when I’m not impaled on Kotya’s dick?” I ask, exasperated.
“I agree. We can fight later. Now, we fuck.” Konstantin lifts my hips up and slams me down again. I moan, clinging to his arms to balance myself.
Yuri whines, but when I’m all the way down again, he gets back to sucking on my clit.
Konstantin forces me up—and Yuri’s tongue slides off me. I glance down to see that he’s lapping at Konstantin’s cock as enthusiastically as he’d been working on me.
“Yura!” Konstantin moans. “You said you would make her come first.”
I might, watching the way Yuri is fervently devoted to bringing Konstantin pleasure. “Yes,” I agree anyway. “You’re supposed to be eating me out, remember?”
Nikolai snorts. “Maybe I need to lend a hand? Since Yuri isn’t living up to his expectations?” he taunts.
Yuri backs away and glares at Nikolai. “If you want to lend a hand, you can jerk me off. Since you aren’t doing anything right now.”
Suddenly, Nikolai doesn’t look as bold. He looks sheepish instead, and he puts both his hands in the air. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll…” He fumbles, then starts to unfasten his own pants. “I’ll just get myself ready.”
“Great,” I drawl. “I thought Kotya was the one who liked sloppy seconds.”
Yuri gives my clit a quick lick, then smiles up at me. “Well, what should Nikolai and I do with our erections?”
“You have…” Konstantin thrusts up into me especially hard, and a moan breaks into my words. “You have hands.”
“Which we’ve been using,” Nikolai replies. “C’mon, you can’t deny that it’ll feel good for us to touch you. Especially when your pretty little pussy is coming around our cocks.”
“She’s coming on my cock,” Konstantin states. “Yura, work faster. Harder. All of those.”
“Yes, sir!” Yuri says with a laugh, then gets his mouth back where it belongs.
I reach down to tangle my fingers into his long hair, tugging on it to direct him exactly where I want his mouth to be.
He’s more insistent this time, more focused, and it doesn’t take long before I’m spiraling toward the edge of my climax. “More,” I whisper.
Nikolai takes that as a cue, coming in closer to toy with my breasts again. His fingers on my nipples feel good, but not nearly as amazing as Yuri’s talented tongue on my clit. Between the two—well, between those and Konstantin’s cock thrusting into me—I end up shuddering, my cunt clamping around Konstantin as my orgasm surges through me.
I cry out, my entire body trembling as I grip Yuri’s hair more tightly and hold him in place as I ride it out.
Konstantin lets out a low groan, and he slams me down onto his cock one last time before he shoots into me.
At first, I worry about a condom—then I remember that there’s no point, since I’m already pregnant.
It threatens to kill my high, so I push the thought away.
Yuri pushes my thighs up higher, and I’m confused about what he’s doing until I realize he’s licking up Konstantin’s cum as it leaks out of me. Konstantin moans again, thrusting up.
“Enough, Yura,” Konstantin says. “You can… or Nikolai…”
I’m so pleasure-drunk that it doesn’t even bother me to be offered this way.
Nikolai is the first to settle down onto the couch, patting his lap. “C’mere, Sierra,” he says, his erection already ready and waiting.
“Oh, no,” I tell him. “Yuri earned the right to go next. All you did was stand there.”
Yuri laughs and stands up, wiping his mouth. “Hold her open for me, Kotya.”
Konstantin lifts me off his cock and spreads my thighs wide while Yuri unzips his jeans. He gives himself a few strokes, although he’s completely hard already.
My eyes are drawn to the tattoo on his cock. I wonder how badly that hurt when he’d gotten it. But he’d taken the whipping with barely a sound, so I’m sure he’d endured the pain of the tattoo as well.
I let out a soft sound as Yuri’s cock gets closer, as he starts to penetrate me at this awkward angle. It’s intimate, somehow, between the three of us. My eyes go to Nikolai, who’s put out by the arrangement if the scowl on his face is any indication. But he strokes his cock anyway, his gaze on me the whole time.
When Yuri thrusts into me, I whimper, the residual flutters of my climax whispering at my awareness again. I think I could come again if he fucks me right, and I lift myself up as much as I can to allow him easier access to my cunt.
Fuck.
I moan as he bottoms out inside of me, wishing I could wrap my arms around him. I lean back instead, and Konstantin’s lips find mine as Yuri fucks me.
I tighten for Yuri, reaching out clumsily just to touch him. My hand slides across a tattoo on his chest: the Voronkov raven. It’s the same as my brand.
The brand.
I don’t want to think about it, and I don’t want to think about the other indelible marks they’ve left on my body—so I don’t. Instead, I focus on the pleasure that’s just waiting to explode within me again.
Before I can get there, Yuri is crying out his own orgasm, spilling into me. I whine in frustration, trying to jerk my hips a few more times as a second climax just eludes me.
Nikolai pats his lap. “Bring her here,” he says. “I’ll make her come.”
“She already came,” Yuri mutters, but he helps Konstantin maneuver me onto Nikolai’s lap.
I’m face to face with him, feeling awkward about it, but thankfully nobody wants me to be coherent. Konstantin guides me onto Nikolai’s cock and pushes down.
“You are so beautiful, Sierrochka,” Konstantin says, kissing my shoulder.
I glance up at him, struck by how handsome he looks like this. It makes this better, somehow, and less like I’m being traded off by three men who care more about their pleasure than my own.
Because, well, that wasn’t the case today, was it? They were more focused on me . They’d waited on me to heal, and I’d gone to them. Not fully expecting this, but needing to be settled in a way that words alone wouldn’t have been able to satisfy.
Nikolai fucks up into me, and I’m so close that he barely has to thrust a handful of times before I’m spasming around him again, clutching his shoulders to steady myself so I don’t collapse onto him. He groans. “Zaya… fuck, zaya,” he says as he thrusts harder up into me. “Wait until you’re fully healed. I’ll fuck you so good.”
Yuri is right beside me this time for me to kiss, and I part my lips so his tongue can explore my mouth even as Nikolai fucks me. He’s still kissing me when Nikolai chokes on a cry, grabbing my hips to hold me still as he fills me with his cum.
I don’t know how long I kiss Yuri, our lips sliding against each other and our breaths mingling. I feel Konstantin’s large hand on my back, stroking gently.
Then Nikolai says, “Ugh, Yuri, go away. I don’t want your breath right in my face.”
Yuri breaks the kiss and flicks his finger against Nikolai’s ear. “Don’t ruin it, asshole.”
I snort out a laugh, then take Konstantin’s hand so he can help me get off of Nikolai and settle down onto the couch next to him. I’m dripping everywhere, and I don’t even care. Someone else will have to clean up the mess. “Too late,” I say.
But it’s amicable, somehow, despite the way the spell had been broken.
I wish it could always be this way.