Page 20 of Kings of Cruelty

“It is healing well,” Konstantin reports.

I nod. At least there’s that. It looks ugly, but so had the brand when they’d first burned that into my chest.

Yuri averts his gaze, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to saysorryagain. I get ready to chastise him about it for the hundredth time, but Yuri doesn’t end up saying anything. I guess I finally got through to him.

“Here, I’ll help,” Nikolai says, crowding into my personal space. He’s exasperating, as always, but it’s still a nice distraction from my brother’s email.

My mood falters, threatening to tank again, but I force those thoughts away.

“Thanks,” I say instead of telling him to fuck off.

He grabs the lotion from Konstantin’s hand and squeezes a little bit onto his fingers. I’m not sure if it’s actually still as tender as it feels or if it’s that his touch is rough as he applies it, but I grit my teeth until he’s done rubbing it into my skin.

Konstantin strokes my bare belly through it all. It’s soothing, until I remember the reason why he’s fixating on my belly.

Because I’m pregnant.

Because there’s a child inside of me.

I make a soft noise and lean back to rest more fully against Konstantin’s chest.

“Is something wrong, Sierrochka?” Konstantin asks gently.

Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I think about the email, and I hate it. I hate that I’m an emotional train wreck, that it’s all his fault—his, and Nikolai’s, and Yuri’s—and that I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings.

I shake my head.

Yuri sits down next to me and Konstantin and places a hand on my thigh. Only the jeans dull the warmth of his hand. “Do you need us to stab somebody, Sierra?”

I let out a harsh laugh. “There’s definitely someone who deserves to be stabbed.”

As mad as I am at Kyran, though, my anger isn’t directed at him. No, it’s Silvano who’s taking up so much space in my head, who I can’t seem to escape from no matter how hard I try.

“But we can’t stab him,” I say, sighing.

“Of course we can. Tell us who. Your brother?” Nikolai guesses.

“A professor,” Yuri suggests, glaring at Nikolai. “One who is threatening to fail you because you missed classes.”

I sigh. “No, no, and no,” I tell them. “And there’s no need to stab everyone who’s…” What? Not evenannoyingme. There isn’t a word strong enough for what I’m feeling. “Bothering me,” I decide on.

Konstantin kisses my bare shoulder. “Maybe we can distract you. Would you like that, Sierrochka?”

Yes. No. I don’t know.

All of those answers flicker through my mind. I know what “distraction” would mean, and I’m not sure I want it. But it’s been a few weeks since my discharge from the hospital, and I knew they weren’t going to be satisfied with some handjobs here and there forever. I’d been lucky to go this long without them making demands—and I’m not fooling myself. It’s because of the baby, not because of me.

“I can eat you out,” Yuri says, letting his hand wander down my thigh and to my cunt.

“You could lick her clit while she’s riding Konstantin,” Nikolai suggests with interest.

None of them have eaten me out before this, and it feels weird to think of them doing it now. With as much sex as we’ve had, it should’ve come up at some point, but I hadn’t been interested. I guess in their typically male fashion, they hadn’t even thought about it.

Until now.

“Are you sure he knows how?” I ask dryly. “Because as far as I can tell, none of you know how to do more than rub a clit.”

Konstantin laughs, but Yuri looks offended.

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