Page 33 of The Vendetti Soldier

Without missing a beat, Santino pauses in front of a door a ways down from the other offices. “We’re going to set things right,” he replies ominously, his voice low and firm.

Luciano nods in agreement, his expression unreadable yet resolute. “It’s overdue. I thought we were doing a well enough job, but apparently, we’ve misread things.”

“I-I don’t understand,” I stammer out, confused about what’s happening. Am I about to be tortured? I thought Matteo confirmed I wasn’t working against them, and I’m not an enemy. Do they plan to toss me into a dungeon and throw away the key? Ror says I can be dramatic at times, but this seriously is a situation where dramatics arenotthe problem.

Santino enters a three-digit number into the keypad next to the knob, then pushes open the door and steps inside. I follow, not seeing much of anything in front of me with my husband’s massive body blocking the path in front of me. God, he has such a great butt in those pants. Did I mention my husband has an ass you could bounce a quarter off of? I blame his rigorous workout with all the squats he does every morning. They’re a glorious exercise for men, and I wholeheartedly approve.

Luciano is at my back, close enough it’s like having a personal furnace behind me, waiting to burn me should I stop too soon. Santino moves to the side, and I don’t miss the distinct sound of the lock clicking behind us as Luciano makes sure no one comes in. Or maybe it’s me he’s making sure doesn’t go anywhere.

As I glance around the room, I take everything in. The padded leather massage table in the middle of the room. The variety of medical instruments on those weird rolling hospital tables they have in the rooms when you get admitted. I don’t know what they’re called, they just remind me of getting a root canal at the dentist, and it’s a time I try to forget. My eyes shoot back to the middle of the room and the long, thick straps hanging towards the floor from the table. Are they leather too? And why are there holes in the table? “Are we getting massages of some type? Or wait, am I massaging you both?” I can definitely get behind giving some personal massages when I’ll be able to run my hands all over every single delicious curve of muscle and cock they both possess.

“Come, poco zucchero. Lay on the table with your belly down,” Santino orders.

My brow scrunches as I stare at the weird exam table in the middle of the room. “Wait, but there are holes in it, and not little ones.” I can’t help but wonder if this is the same room I had my initial exam in to make sure I was the top notch of health. It sure looks similar. I was too nervous then to pay close enough attention, though.

“Correct,” Luciano agrees, not giving me a real answer. He steps closer, nudging me forward until I move to do as they’ve commanded.

With a shaky sigh, I climb onto the table, allowing both men to help me since it’s a bit awkward. Once I’m lying flat on my stomach, staring at the floor below me, I say loud enough for them to easily hear me, “I don’t understand. My face can fit in the hole like a normal massage table, but why are there spots of the table missing where my boobs and stomach are? How can you press on part of my back with the opening underneath? Won’t it mess up the massage and push me in the hole at a weird angle?”

They chuckle, and as I attempt to sit up and readjust to look at them, I’m stopped. The straps I saw moments ago? They’re being stretched across me. One lays securely over my lower back, the other placed on my shoulder blades. Santino tightens the straps enough so if I don’t move, I’m comfortable, but they’re also tight enough I can’t get up if I wanted to. “Uh, guys, what’s happening?”

The lower part of the table under my pelvis begins to shift, and suddenly my legs are being spread wide open. I’m in a flowy dress, so everything will be on display if they don’t watch out. Abeat later, Luciano’s face pops under the table where I can finally make eye contact.

“Luciano?” They’re being quieter than usual, but I can feel their energy crackling in the air; they’re excited over something. Luciano’s stare is electric as he comes at me with a pair of scissors. My mouth drops open as I watch him go for my clothes. “Excuse me, sir,” I gasp out, my eyes locked on his hand as his fingers shift to close the scissors on the top of my dress.

He continues to snip down the front, ruining the Chanel material, then on to my thin brassiere he’d had flown in from Paris for me. The buttery soft material falls open from my front, my boobs pointing out below from the hole in the table. Luciano reaches for them, tweaking one of my nipples as cool air kisses the back of my thighs, then the sensation of chilled metal from another set of scissors meeting my skin registers next, cutting my panties away.

I’m too frazzled at first to realize they’ve both cut away a lot of my clothing, but then I’m suddenly feeling much more than the scissors on my flesh. “Oh, wow,” I breathe the words as warm air hits my pussy. It’s Santino, blowing his sweet breath against my sensitive folds. Luciano leaves me briefly, only to return with two strange-looking items. “A-are those… pumps?”

“Sì, naughty bambola. It’s time we get your body ready for your true purpose of being here.”

Fuck! I knew I was in trouble. The feeling on the way here as we walked the hall, I should’ve listened to my gut and begged themfor mercy before they got the chance to do whatever it is they plan to do to me.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I understand I went about things the wrong way, but if you will both talk this out with me, I’m sure we can get through the initial disappointment you feel. We can come up with a plan and work together. I don’t have to go behind your back to help. I promise.”

He chuckles. “We know you’re smart. We were already aware you’re more than capable of being a permanent asset to the famiglia. Let’s face it, if you weren’t better than any other woman we’ve come across, you never would’ve been able to marry mio fratello. I’d have killed you for him.” His bluntness makes me gasp again; this time, it’s because I’m shocked he would be so cruel if he had found me lacking. He moves one of the clear plastic cones toward my right breast, hitting a button on the tiny machine as soon as it touches my nipple. It immediately suctions to my boob, the machine making it tug and release at my nipple.

“Holy—” My words are cut off as he repeats his movements, attaching a second to my left tit. My mind is flying as sensations overwhelm me, the pull and release of the suction on both of my nipples at once, yet it never completely unlatches. Pair that with Santino breathing in my pussy, and it has me seeing stars. He straight up has his nose in my vagina, inhaling, like it’s a scented plug-in freshener. “W-what a-are these things? Are these b-breast pumps?” I’m panting, unable to catch my breath with it all hitting me at once. These men are too much.

“Mm,” Santino groans from behind me. “I can already imagine it,” he tells Luciano.

“So can I, fratello,” Luciano agrees, eagerly watching as the machines suck at my heavy, full breasts. He meets my gaze, a fire blazing in his irises. “We’ve made this into ourbreeding room. All for you, Mischa. We’ll fill you full of our cum, then leave you here, strapped down to make sure it takes and you’re pregnant. The pumps will go on you daily. We want your body already thinking you’re pregnant so it’ll start preparing and changing exactly how we need it to, so you’ll give us a house full of bambinos.”

“Cristo, she’s perfecto like this,” Santino comments, running his big, strong hands over the back of my exposed thighs, coming together to palm my ass. He grips it hard for a moment, running his nose against my pussy as he inhales deeply again. “Open, and at our mercy. Fuck, I could come in my pants from watching her squirm with those sucking on her nipples. She’s drenched, her little pussy dripping, and nub swollen. I think she needs me to lick it for her.”

Luciano nods, his fingertips lightly running over the swells of my breasts as his eyes remain pinned on the clear plastic covering my areolas. I swear with each tug he becomes more turned on. His cheeks heat, his irises dilate, then his breathing changes. His mouth parts, soft pants escaping as he grows hard in his trousers. Eventually, his stare moves back to mine as he admits, “This is your true purpose, to continue the Vendetti bloodline. Don’t you see? Helping us is nothing in comparison to this. You are the future mother of our children; you have the mostimportantjob in the entire famiglia.”

Santino begins lapping at my pussy, the warm wetness of his skillful tongue making me moan. He sticks it out, spearing itinside my opening, and my cheeks grow warm. I’m gushing around him; they have me so turned on, needing their cocks to fill me. “We’re going to breed you, poco zucchero. Vendetti men don’t want their wives bloody or in the line of danger in any way. We want you spread out, dripping wet, while we feast and pound your pussy. While we make you come so many times you see stars and worship our cocks. Then watch you carry our children.”

Luciano cuts in, pushing his thumb between my lips to do what he enjoys most—be bossy and watch me suck something. “Suck,” he orders, and I immediately comply. “We want you to get fat with our bambinos. Fuck, there’s nothing more beautiful than a woman so big with pregnancy, she can barely waddle around.”

“Mm,” Santino groans, his tongue flicking across my clit as his finger thrusts deep inside my entrance. “I can’t wait.”

Luciano pulls his thumb free, physically opening my mouth wider before pushing three of his big fingers inside. I tighten my lips around them, licking and sucking. “I can’t wait to fuck Rorik all night long, knowing you’re carrying our child. Knowing my cum was strong enough to fertilize this sweet little cunt my brother can’t seem to stop licking.”

“My cum,” Santino argues, adding a second finger.

“He loves how you taste,” Luciano continues, ignoring his brother’s argument. “Won’t shut the fuck up all day long about how he wants to eat your pussy and have you gush all over his face.He’s addicted.You’ve done this to mio fratello, madehim feral for you, so rather than wrap my hands around your throat and squeeze until you stop breathing, we’re going to put you to work, alright. You’ll be fucking pregnanttonight,and too busy worrying about our children to get involved with dangerous Mademan business again. Capisci?”

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