38. Alex
ALEX
The words hang in the air between us, and I watch Marla's face carefully. She understands what Russ just said. Not the surface meaning about security and territory, but the deeper implication underneath. He wants Zach to come. He wants the confrontation.
So do I.
Nick moves to the window again, pulling the curtain aside to scan the darkness outside. His posture is rigid. He's running through scenarios in his head, calculating threats and responses.
"We should sweep the area again," Nick says without turning around.
"Already planning on it," Russ replies, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. "You coming?"
Nick nods and follows him toward the door. Before stepping outside, Russ glances back at me. "Stay with her."
It's not a question or a request. It's an acknowledgment that none of us want Marla alone right now, not even for five minutes. I nod once, and they disappear into the night.
The cottage feels too quiet after they leave. Marla stands near the fireplace, her arms wrapped around herself again. She's trying to appear composed, but I notice the way her eyes dart toward the windows every few seconds. The way she flinches slightly when the old wood creaks outside.
"You should sit down," I say, moving closer to her.
"I'm fine."
"You're wound tighter than a fucking spring." I reach out and gently pull her arms away from her body, forcing her to drop the defensive posture. "Sit."
She hesitates, then sinks onto the couch. I settle beside her, close enough that our thighs touch. The contact is deliberate and hopefully grounding to her.
"How long do you think they'll be out there?" she asks quietly.
"As long as it takes to make sure nobody's watching the property." I lean back against the cushions, studying her profile. "Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour." I pause. "We'll wait outside all fucking night long if we feel it necessary."
She nods but doesn't relax. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white as she clutches and releases her fingers over and over. I reach over and cover both her hands with one of mine, stilling the nervous movement.
"He was right there," she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Looking through my window. Watching me."
"I know."
"What if he comes back?"
"Then he'll be extremely sorry." My voice comes out harder than I intend, but I don't soften it.
She turns to look at me, her blue eyes searching my face.
A sharp pain punctures my chest, near where my heart is supposed to be located.
I take a deep breath, unfamiliar with the feeling.
I'm not supposed to care this much for someone, especially a woman outside the Bratva.
I didn't even know I was capable of such a useless emotion.
Time passes slowly. The cottage settles around us with small creaks and groans. Outside, I can hear Russ and Nick moving through the woods, their footsteps crunching over fallen leaves and branches. They're being thorough.
Marla eventually leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder. The gesture is unconscious, seeking comfort without thinking about it. I don't pull away.
"This is insane," she murmurs.
"Yeah."
"A week ago, I was worried about meeting deadlines and paying bills. Now I'm hiding from a stalker ex-boyfriend whose father is apparently on the mafia payroll."
"Life comes at you fast."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "That's one way to put it."
The front door opens, and both Russ and Nick step back inside. Their expressions are grim but not alarmed. No immediate threats, then.
"All clear," Russ says, shrugging out of his jacket.
Marla sits up straighter, pulling away from me. "So what happens now?"
"Now, we take our—or rather your—mind off things," Russ says with a wicked grin. He looks at Nick and me.
The sexual implication is clear, and I couldn't agree more. Marla really needs the distraction—we all do—and there's no better way than a few hours of sex.
Nick moves toward the bedroom without a word. Russ follows and I stand and offer Marla my hand. She takes it, her fingers cold against mine.
The bedroom is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand. Nick is already checking the window locks again while Russ sits on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.
Marla stands in the doorway, uncertain but also clearly turned on.
I keep from grinning. She may still feel a bit uncomfortable with our weird situation, but she also finds it exciting.
I move behind her, my hands settling on her hips.
She leans back against me immediately and I catch a whiff of her shampoo.
"You need to stop thinking," I murmur against her ear.
"I can't."
"Then we'll help you."
She turns in my arms, her blue eyes meeting mine. There's heat there now, mixing with the fear and uncertainty. "Alex..."
I don't let her finish. I kiss her, hard and demanding, swallowing whatever she was about to say. Her hands come up to grip my shirt, holding on like I'm the only solid thing in her world right now.
When I pull back, her breathing is uneven. "Better?"
"Getting there." A slight smile tugs at her lips.
Russ appears beside us, his hand sliding into Marla's hair and tilting her head back. "We've got you," he says quietly. "Stop fighting it."
She nods, and something in her expression shifts. Surrender. Trust. It's fucking intoxicating.
I strip her shirt over her head, my hands a little rough with my need and desire. The fabric catches on her hair and she gasps, but there's no fear in the sound. Only anticipation. Her skin is flushed, warm beneath my palms as I trace the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips.
Mine, something primal inside me insists, and then instantly shifts. Ours.
Nick moves closer, his fingers expertly working the clasp of her bra. When it falls away, Russ's hands are already there, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they harden into tight peaks. Marla's head falls back against his shoulder, a soft moan escaping her lips.
I should feel more territorial. I've never shared a woman before, at least not one that I feel anything for. But somehow, it feels right that me, Russ, and Nick are sharing this woman, pleasing her, and protecting her. I don't know how the fuck that happened, but it is what it is.
"That's it," Russ murmurs against her ear. "Let go."
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and pull them down along with her underwear, dropping to my knees as I do. The sight of her bare before us makes my cock throb painfully against my jeans. I press my mouth to her hip, then lower, tasting the salt of her skin.
"Alex," she breathes, her fingers threading into my hair.
I look up at her, holding her gaze as I move between her thighs. "You're ours now," I tell her, my voice rough. "Say it."
"I'm yours," she whispers.
"Louder."
"I'm yours!" The words come out as a gasp when my mouth finds her center, my tongue sliding through her wetness. She's already soaked, her body responding to us before we've even truly begun. I taste her thoroughly, deliberately, feeling her thighs tremble on either side of my head.
Nick and Russ support her weight as her knees threaten to give out. Russ's hands are still on her breasts, kneading and teasing while Nick's mouth works along her neck, her jaw, finding all the sensitive places that make her whimper.
When I stand, I'm already unbuttoning my jeans. I pause long enough to point at the bed. She swallows thickly, then obediently moves to the bed, and the action sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through me.
I push her onto the bed, not gentle, but not cruelly. She lands on her back, her red hair spreading across the pillow, her blue eyes dark with desire. She bounces slightly on the mattress and my eyes are drawn to her full breasts and the way they move.
Nick strips off his shirt, revealing the tattoos that cover his left arm. Russ is already naked, his cock hard and ready, sticking out proudly from a bush of pubic hair. I shed the rest of my clothes quickly, my eyes never leaving Marla.
"Spread your legs," I command, and she does, her thighs falling open in invitation.
I settle between them, my hands gripping her hips hard enough that I know I'll leave marks.
The thought satisfies something dark inside me.
I want her marked. I want everyone to know she belongs to us.
I push inside her in one hard thrust, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed.
She's tight and wet and perfect, her body gripping me like she was made for this. For us.
"Fuck," I growl, pulling back only to drive in deeper. "You feel that? You feel how perfectly you take me?"
"Yes," she gasps. "God, yes."
Nick moves to one side of her, his hand sliding into her hair and turning her face toward him. His mouth claims hers in a bruising kiss while Russ captures her hands, pinning them above her head. The position leaves her completely open to me, unable to do anything but take what I give her.
I set a punishing rhythm, each thrust deliberate and deep. This isn't about teasing or building slowly. This is about claiming every inch of her, making sure she feels us in every cell of her body. The bed frame creaks beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall with each movement.
"Alex," she moans against Nick's mouth. "Please."
"Please what?" I demand, my fingers digging into her hips.
"More. Harder. I need—"
I give her what she's begging for, fucking her with an intensity that borders on brutal. But she takes it all, her body rising to meet each thrust, her moans growing louder and more desperate.
Nick breaks the kiss and moves lower, his mouth finding her breast. He sucks her nipple between his teeth, and Marla's entire body jerks, a sharp cry escaping her. Russ releases one of her hands to stroke her face and neck, his touch gentler than mine but no less possessive.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this," Russ murmurs. "Taking all of us. Letting us have you."