Broken Sins (Volkov Bratva 3) - Page 110

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, the Bianci brothers became my crown jewels. I keep them together, but they lift me up. We need each other.

They need me. I need them. More now than ever.

I take a deep breath, then pull the door all the way open.

“I know this is completely against the rules,” I begin, “but I decided: fuck the rules. I, uh—I could use a little confidence right now.”

Vito, Mateo, Leo, and Dante are arranged in a row standing in front of me. They’re each wearing tuxedos, and the white pocket square tucked into each of their breast pockets has their initials embroidered in thread that matches their eyes. The white rose pinned against their lapels is the exact same cream color as my dress.

As with the first time I saw them, my first thought is how gorgeous they are. My angels and my devils bundled into one. Jawlines sharp as razors, hair dark and thick, and those eyes—the first and last thing I notice about them every time I look. It’s insane how their personalities are perfectly reflected in their irises. Dante’s roiling amber, Leo’s placid blue, Mateo’s deep green, and last of all, Vito’s surge of black.

The Bianci men have never been particularly expressive. Not even Dante. But as they look at me, their jaws drop one by one.

Dante is the first to talk, as always. “Princess, you look …”

“Incredible,” Mateo finishes in a hushed voice.

“Come inside, before someone sees you,” I say. I’m blushing like a stoplight, and I don’t want anyone else to accidentally wander past the bridal prep room and witness me flagrantly flouting wedding custom.

They file in, then fan out again. I shut the door once they’ve entered, but I hesitate for a moment and stay there with my forehead resting against the closed door. I close my eyes. The first thing I notice is that I smell them now. Against the backdrop of jasmine and lilies floating from the floral display in one corner, I am buried beneath their combined odor of sandalwood, citrus, and a kind of cool, musky darkness, like a panther would find between the roots of a tree on a warm summer night. It does to me what it always does: sends heat rushing through my face and between my legs. My lips part, my thighs tremble, my breath quickens. Beneath my dress, I feel my nipples pebble against the soft fabric. If I were wearing any underwear, I would feel wetness against my panties, too. As it is, I feel only the cool draft of the air conditioning.

I keep my forehead against the door. It feels solid and reassuring. But the touch I really need is behind me. I take a long breath, steel myself, then pivot slowly to face them once more.

I immediately notice the hardness of their manhoods straining at the zippers of their tuxedo pants. I hurriedly force myself to glance away. I have to crane my neck to look up into their faces. They’re each at least a foot taller than me, Mateo most of all. When I’m this close to them, they’re all I can see. Just an ocean of Bianci men in tuxedos, stretching from edge to edge of my vision.

They gaze back at me, unblinking, unmoving. We stay like that for a beat too long. Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed. It’s hard to breath, and I have to look away, down to the floor, or else I feel like I might faint.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Milaya Volkov,” says the one man I was most afraid would speak up. Vito reaches his hand forward and gently forces my chin up so I am looking him directly in the eyes again. How much I hated that face once upon a time! That Bianci nose, so cruel and proud. Those eyes, so dark and angry.

Not now though. Not anymore. Vito’s eyes are as dark as ever, but the black hellfire that used to burn in them has cooled to something else now. It’s the darkness of space, of eternity, of endless possibility. I could tumble head over heels forever in those eyes and never find ground again, and for some reason, I’m perfectly okay with that.

“We were broken when you met us. I most of all. Look at me now, though. Do you see a broken man?”

He waits for me to answer. I shake my head imperceptibly. I don’t trust myself to speak out loud.

“You fixed me,” he continues. “You saved me. All of us. You don’t have a damn thing in the world to apologize for. Not a rule can bind you anymore. We want to give you the universe on a platter. Will you let us?”

He waits for me again. I hesitate for the longest time, mostly because I’m trying as hard as I possibly can not to cry.

Finally, I nod. “Can I ask you all a favor?”

“Anything,” Dante answers without hesitation.

“Can you go ahead and kiss me now?”

An identical grin spreads across each of their faces. Then they move towards me, and the moment I’ve been dying for since dawn finally sweeps me up, and I can let go of anxiety I’ve been holding onto for far longer than I realized.

Mateo’s mouth finds my left earlobe and suckles gently, while Leo comes around and presses into me from behind as his hands grip my hips and pull me back towards him. Dante gently caresses my abdomen. Vito steps up, leans forward, and claims me with a greedy, open kiss.

Things happen fast. Leo undoes the clasps at the back of my dress, then Dante and Mateo slide it down gently. We’re breaking every rule in the entire wedding book, but I stopped caring about that a long time ago. I want this, I need this, I deserve this, and so do they. We’ve never done things the conventional way anyhow. Why start now?

Before I know it, I’m standing naked between the four of them. There are hands tweaking my nipples and hands tugging dominantly on the roots of my hair and hands finding the hot slash between my legs and starting to coax moans out of me like the rippling of an incoming tide. I just close my eyes and let it all happen. Why differentiate between the men? To me, they’re different sides of the same beautiful diamond. I turn in the light and see how they each catch and refract it differently. But at the end of the day, they’re all bound together by my love. Byourlove. By what we’ve seen and done to each other, by what we’ve fought and survived together. That’s the only thing that matters. Everything else is just a footnote at best.

There’s no bed in here, so we end up on the floor, with clothes strewn around us on all sides. I want—no, Ineed—to see their nakedness and to feel them in my hands, in my mouth. They don’t hesitate to give me what I need either. It takes only moments before Dante is plunging himself into my aching, needy pussy from behind while I lick up and down along Vito’s length and fondle Leo and Mateo, who are kneeling to my left and my right.

The feeling of Dante filling me up is indescribable. There’s the naughty edge of fucking when we aren’t even supposed to be seeing each other, that illicit thrill of breaking the rules. There’s the raw physical sensation of his wickedly curved cock finding that place in me that only he can reach. And layered on top of that is that dangerous, wild love that he and I share, the love that’s uniquely ours.