Page 3 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

Fyodor huffed again. “She is quite beautiful. Very blonde.”

Yes. Very blonde. Very beautiful. I lengthened my stride, turned left at the junction, and made my way to the room set aside for me and my companions. My company owned the building, and the auctions gave me exclusivity to my clientele. I rarely partook of the auction’s selections, but the woman had caught all of our attention with a sharp tilt of her head and the flash of lust in her eyes when she looked at us.

I opened the door and strode through, already scanning the room for our prize as my eyes adjusted to the darkened interior. Fyodor closed the door with a solidclickand flipped the lock, ensuring we would be left alone.

A startled breath dragged my head around to find our woman standing with her back against the dark gray walls. Her green dress stood out among the shadows, the pale length of her body a beacon of light in a dreary landscape. I drank in the sight of her, caressing her body with nothing but my eyes, dreaming of all the things I would do with her, to her. When I finally brought my gaze to her face, she stared back at me, her eyes wide and frightened, the green depths swimming with fear. Her mouth worked open and closed, a strangled sound emerging.

I started forward, and she slammed her eyes shut, both hands raising toward me as though to ward me away. “What is this?” I never questioned myself, but this woman was not the same. Her body was perfection, but the confidence? Where was the confidence she’d displayed on the stage?

Ilya shifted behind me but did not move closer when I made atsking sound. A surge of protective energy ramped up the excitement and took a controlling hand over my desire, the two contradicting one another in a way I’d never experienced. I was not the protective one. That was Fyodor’s role. He was the caring, comforting presence in our trio. I was the cold, calculating Pakhan, the man in charge.

Gulping an audible breath, the woman stiffened so taut her nipples pointed directly at me. I ached to caress the pebbled peaks, to drag one into my mouth until she groaned my name. No. Not my name. She would never know my name.

“Hi.” She took a step forward, her balance off as though her legs hesitated to obey her commands. “I’m Annie. Who are you?”

Itsked again and wagged a single finger back and forth in her direction. “We do not give names. It is not part of the game.Tonight, you are divine. You are the goddess of our desires. You do not say your name, and we” —I motioned at the three of us— “do not say ours.”

“What…” She twisted her fingers over her stomach, knotting and unknotting them until the knuckles reddened. “What do I call you?”

“You call us nothing.” I shrugged. “It is in the contract.”

Her brows furrowed, and her mouth puckered in a delicate furl that sent heat straight to my cock. I tempered the desire and widened my stance, crossing my arms behind my back and grasping my forearms to keep from reaching out and touching the golden perfection of her hair.

She blushed and nodded a little too quickly, seemingly realizing her mistake. “Of course. The contract.”

Concern dredged my stomach, a wholly uncomfortable and uncharacteristic emotion for me. I narrowed my focus to nothing but her eyes. “Did you read the contract?”

“Yes.” She answered too quickly again, and I prompted her with a raised eyebrow. Her cheeks darkened to a dusky pink that I hoped to recreate with passion instead of embarrassment. “I must not have understood that I’d be spending the night with three men.” She pointed vaguely at the three of us standing in a loose semi-circle in front of her. “I expected one man.” One finger rose in front of her face, the blush deepening until her face glowed.

Ah. My shoulders relaxed, and I released my grip on my forearms, allowing my hands to come back to my sides. “It is in the fine print.” I took a single step forward, my movement slow and intentional. I enjoyed the cat and mouse game, but for this moment, I tried to help calm her fears. “We can do whatever we want with you. All three of us. With the exception of hurting you.”

Her quick intake of breath lifted her chest.

I stared at her breasts and let the hunger fill my body. My voice deepened, darkened. “That includes all three of us claiming your body in any way we see fit. Whether it be all three of our cocks in you at the same time, or one. By one. By one.” I took a step with each enunciation. By the time I stopped, I stood close enough to breathe in her floral scent. “Once you have signed, the agreement is iron-clad. You are expected to go through with it.”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her gaze flicking from me, to Ilya, to Fyodor, and back to me.

“Are you willing to proceed?” The question forced its way out, demanding her full cooperation.

Ilya's strangled breath whispered across my back, and Fyodor shot me a look. I’d surprised him. No more than I’d surprised myself. Fyodor fisted his hands, his profile blank except for the slightest twitch at the corner of his eye. We all wanted her with the kind of desperation that made us vulnerable. Which meant we could not be trusted to protect ourselves once things began. We would never hurt a woman, especially not during sex, but she held power over us, even if she had no idea of its strength.

I disliked the vulnerability of our position, hence asking her permission before we began.

Fyodor reached the same conclusion seconds later, and his face smoothed. He tapped Ilya on the shoulder and twitched his head once in a negative motion, silently telling Ilya to stand down. They trusted me implicitly, and even if they thought I was wrong, it was not their place to question me.

Annie’s jaw sawed back and forth. I locked the name away, tasting the smooth edges of it as I imagined whispering it into her ear as I pumped deep inside her.

She nodded once. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” I took a step back and to the side. “Strip.” With a flick of my fingers, I sent Fyodor and Ilya toward the large leather chairs sitting on either side of an oval table covered in candles. The flickering firelight danced across Annie’s skin once we all sank into the chairs. I crossed my left ankle over my right knee and gripped my shin with both hands.

“What?” Our goddess of desire cast a look around the room before bringing her gaze back to rest on me.

I tapped my fingers on my shin. “Strip.” The command served two purposes. It proved she bore no weapons beneath the delicious dress and tested her willingness to be commanded.

“There isn’t much.” She released a nervous laugh. “Once the dress goes, all that’s left is my panties.”

Fuck, but the woman had no idea the evocative image she painted in my mind. My cock strained against the constriction of my slacks. I’d unbuttoned my jacket when I sat, and I leaned into the plush leather chair, giving her a smirk. “I know.”

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