Page 46 of New Orleans Collection

I don’t know what drew us to this room, but the moment I saw it, I could see us dressing up our little doll, pulling the ribbons of the corsets tight and testing the limits of both her mind and her body. I’ve never put a corset on a woman before, even though I’ve seen some wearing them. Dressing someone up wasn’t something I found interesting, but since I saw the inside of Room Eight, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

“You guys aren’t going to chicken out of this, right?” Fleur’s voice is full of accusation and a hint of hurt which has my heart aching, “You aren’t going to wind me up and then decide you were right about me all these years and I’m nothing more than your sister’s best friend?”

Rocco growls, “You’re ours, Fleur.” My youngest brother’s fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of our woman’s neck and she gasps softly. He uses his hold on her to pull her up to her tiptoes and tilt her back. She’s completely at his fucking mercy; it’s something I want to experience for myself. “You might not believe it right now and that’s fine. I won’t tell you how long I’ve known you belong to us, not until you’re ready to hear it.” He leans in, his nose brushing against hers as her lips part and she starts panting. “But you need to hear this—we won’t ever leave you wanting. Not tonight. Never fucking again.”

“I hope I don’t have to change my mind about you, Rocco,” she whispers, “and consider you a liar.”

The grin he gives her is feral as fuck. I watch her tits jiggle slightly with every breath she takes as I stride closer to my woman and my brother. Their eyes are locked, something passing between them that has jealousy striking through me before I push it aside.

There is no room here for jealousy.

We will each give her something she needs, something she craves, and we will get all of her in return.

It simply is. Just like I always knew what my role would be in the family business—it just is.

“Gonna love taming you,” Gio sounds giddy as fuck and when I look at him, his eyes are heated, and his smile is so big on his face that his cheeks must be hurting.

When she looks over at him, she rolls her eyes and sasses, “You can certainly try.”

“We are definitely going to dress you up like our little doll, Tesoro,” there’s a warning in my voice as I move closer to her.

“No one has ever dressed me up before,” she admits. The way she bites on her lip has me wanting to take a nip myself.

“Arms up,” I grit out through my teeth, a feral need riding me hard now that I’m standing so close to her.

I’m thankful as fuck the corset I’ve chosen is already partially laced. I don’t know what I would do if they weren’t. My body is already vibrating with the need to touch her and skim my hands over her skin to see if it erupts in goosebumps with my touch.

Unable to deny myself, I run my knuckles of one hand along her rib cage as she raises her arms. With her blue eyes blinking up at me and filled with so much emotion—need, longing, pleading restraint, admiration, trust, and a hint of fearful restraint—it’s hard to focus on bringing the corset down around her head. I realize my hands are shaking as my brothers circle our woman and help me out.

When we pull the corset down and settle it around her torso, the three of us grunt in approval at the way Fleur, without a hint of shame, reaches in and adjusts her tits. The way she clutches the front against her is all innocence, but the way her breathing picks up is wanton. It’s a contradiction I want to explore, one I’m torn between wanting to protect and obliterate.

The fabric around Fleur’s full breasts is white and covered in white lace, but the portion of the bodice that wraps around her middle is a color between the gold of her dress and champagne. It shimmers in the room and a feeling of opulence sinks into my skin. I wonder if she can feel it too.

“Is dressing me up all you’re planning to do?” Fleur’s voice wavers slightly, “That isn’t exactly the night I was looking for.”

I lean into her and nip at the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, making her body tighten. “I would ask what kind of night you were looking for, but it’ll only piss me off, Tesoro.”

She swallows and I watch the delicate curve of her neck as she does. When I stand at my full height, I look into her eyes, hoping she can see the truth. “We will be doing so much more than dressing you up. I didn’t even know I needed to see you like this,” my eyes skate down her body and then back up, “but it is a vision.”

“She’s not even laced up yet,” Rocco points out, his voice gruff, but I can hear a hint of wonder there as well.

I turn Fleur around gently until she’s facing Gio with her back to me. I groan at the way the material of the thong she’s wearing disappears between the globes of her ass. My palms itch to spank her, but the gaping ribbons of the corset are calling to me. I want to pull and tug until the material of the garment is wrapped around our woman lovingly…and then I want to pull a little tighter until she’s not sure if she will be able to take another full breath ever again.

It's a little sick and depraved, but I find I don’t care.

“You look good enough to eat,” Giovanni’s voice is thick and the amusement my brother normally wraps around himself is almost completely gone.

His hands reach out and he runs the tips of his fingers along Fleur’s jaw and then down over her neck. I watch a shiver work its way up her spine and can’t help but smile. She’s so fucking responsive.

“Do you like being on display like this for us?” Gio’s voice is deep with a hint of darkness he normally only shows to those who need to see it, those who underestimate him because of the mask he normally wears. “Do you like being our little doll?”

“Yes,” Fleur’s breathy whisper is loud as it wisps around us, filling the space in way only she can.

Gio’s hands stray over her shoulders, and I glance at Rocco to see him watching our brother’s hands on our woman with heat in his gaze. Gio doesn’t stop, he continues the gentle teasing torture, his fingers barely grazing over the swell of her breasts where she’s holding the corset in place in front of her. His touch circles back up to her shoulders where he grips her, not hard enough to bruise, but enough for her to know she’s caught.

That she’s ours.

“Lace her up, brother,” Gio grunts. “I want to see her all cinched up and ready to be played with.”

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