Page 82 of Kings of Violence

Nikolai doesn’t hesitate. He drives into me, and I gasp, closing my eyes as I throw my head back. Water gets in my face, but I can’t bring myself to care. I whimper, clutching at Konstantin, wanting a kiss but not sure how to ask for it.

Yuri notices, and he tilts my head in his direction. The kiss isfierce, open-mouthed, and barely more than our lips sliding against each other, but I feel the connection.

I can feel the emotion that boils underneath every interaction I have with Yuri.

I don’t know what it is about him, but I wonder all over again what it would’ve been like if I’d really, truly met him before he’d gone to jail — if Sean and my father hadn’t intervened and made it impossible for us to get to know each other. Would Yuri have been softer with me from the start?

Would I have wanted that?

Nikolai grunts, fucking into me, and he says raggedly, “She’s so, so hot and wet and tight. How is she so tight after how much we fuck her?” He laughs, but the sound is a little harsh somehow. He grips my hips, fingers and fingernails digging into my skin hard enough to hurt, and I don’t understand the change in his behavior.

“Tight, beautiful, and smart,” Konstantin murmurs. He starts stroking my hair again, all while I’m still half making out with Yuri. “Strange that she came out ofthatfamily.”

Yuri breaks the kiss to look at Konstantin. “Brave. She’s brave, too. She stood her ground today.”

Did I? It had all faded into the background, and I make a quiet sound of protest as they draw my attention back to what I’ve been trying to forget.

“She did,” Nikolai says. “And she waited to panic until it was safe.” He sounds grudging, somehow, and that nearly pulls me out of the dreamlike state I’ve been in.

Konstantin grunts in approval. His hand moves between my legs, and he rubs his finger around my hole. “He’s getting you ready for me, Sierrochka. You’re going to come around my cock.”

Everything is so intense. If Nikolai was still touching my clit, I’d come on the spot. But he isn’t, and Konstantin’s finger isn’t enough to bring me over the edge. I’m so close, though, so fucking close.

“He loves it when his women are sloppy,” Nikolai says. “He loves fucking them with me and Yura’s cum dripping out of them.”

Something about the choice of his words is strange — hiswomen, them. Not me. I don’t know how to feel about it, and I file it away to think about later.

Yuri starts playing with my breasts, pinching my nipples and soothing them in turn. “You’re so hot, Sierra. With our brand, with our cum inside you.”

I swallow thickly, wanting more, needing more. I want to come. I want to come so badly, but Nikolai’s thrusts are too erratic and Konstantin’s fingers aren’t in the right place. I’d gotten so close with Yuri, and while the pleasure is so much that it borders on too much, I can’t quite get there.

Nikolai groans, his hand sliding around to rest on my stomach as he nuzzles and nips my neck. “Gonna come,” he says to no one in particular, and I whine in protest.

“Do it,” Konstantin orders. “Get her so messy. Fill her up.” He gets his hand on my stomach and pushes against it, like he’s trying to feel Nikolai’s cock inside me.

I make another sound, though whether it’s of need or something more, I can’t quite tell.

Grunting, Nikolai fucks into me harder, faster, until he’s spilling into me and all I can feel his heat and cum on the inside.

I’ve never been taken bare before them.

They haven’t used a condom even once with me.

That thought is almost enough to make me panic, but before I can start to think about what it all means, Konstantin is right there, kissing me hard enough to make me forget all over again.

Nikolai pulls out of me, and he steps away just enough for Konstantin to slot in behind me. I glance at Nikolai, who gives me a strange look before leaning in to kiss me. Then he turns to Yuri and gives him a brief kiss too.

Yuri doesn’t seem to know how to react to that, but before I can try to decipher what is going on, I feel Konstantin’s large cock pressing against my hole.

“Ready, Sierrochka? Ready to be split wide open by me?” he whispers against my ear.

My breath hitches, and even though I feel like Goldilocks aboutto face the too-hot porridge, the too-big bed, I’m prepared enough to where I think I can take him with only slight discomfort.

Maybe that will even feel good.

“Yes,” I choke out.

I’m not sure when I started crying again, for all that the tears are lost beneath the shower, the water running in rivulets down my face.

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