Please, let that be true.
Yakov 5.
I smile to myself at her girly bedroom. Pastels, indulgent bedding, soft touches around the room with delicate white furniture. She must hate our suite and my bedroom. Dark woods, navy-blue bedding…the only thing light in my room is her.
Monty snorts in his sleep, startling himself awake. I chuckle at him, watching as he figures out where he is. With a cheshire cat grin, he wraps himself around Sophia and stares at me over her head. Our eyes meet and if I was a poetic man I would say time stood still. He kisses her forehead, humming into the lingering touch. She comes awake slowly, stretching, wiggling her sexy ass into my groin.
“Ahh!” She screams into Monty’s chest, burrowing as deep as she can get and I don’t know whether to laugh or get mad at her reaction. “I’m in bed with two men,” she murmurs, but loud enough for us to hear.
“You’re in bed with two men most nights,” Monty replies casually, making her scream again.
“Yes, but I’m awake this time. You’re usually gone by the time I wake up.” That’s true. We let her sleep as long as we can as we get ready for our days, or she’s in our laps taking a nap while we are sitting in my office or somewhere in the compound with the family.
I nuzzle her neck, tracing my nose along the long column before nipping her ear. “We aren’t two men; we areyourmen.” This wistful sound escapes her, like a hum and a sigh at once and it drives straight into my heart.
“Now that I have orgasmed and napped, I would like to ask my questions, please.”
“Proud of you.” Monty nudges her with his chin until she looks up at him. His affection for her is obvious. He kisses her, taking his time, sipping from her mouth until she’s almost climbing on top of him for more. I settle her with a hand on her hip, sliding along her bare skin under her shirt. Her skin is like silk, she’s smooth and warm and the softest thing I’ve ever touched in my life. She’s precious, porcelain and delicate. I’m a bull in a fucking China shop. Monty reaches over her and grips my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. My racing thoughts slow as his fingers explore my jaw and stubble, his thumb gliding across my bottom lip.
With a centering breath, I ask her, “Would you like to talk in here like this, or do you want to go back to your living room?” She wiggles some more, a groan lodging in my throat at her unintentional teasing. She arches her back slightly; her arm bent over her head to touch mine. Her long fingers skate over my buzz cut. When she applies more pressure, I moan, my eyes close on their own at the sensation.
“Right here. I’m not sure this isn’t a dream and I don’t want to wake up yet.”
“Not a dream, Sweetling, but we can stay here if you’re comfortable.”
“Thank you, Monty.” Her hands on both of us, she inhales deeply, her slender shoulders rising with effort before droppingas she exhales. She’s clearly confused and unsure where to begin. “Why now?”
“I require control. In all aspects, but especially here…with the two of you. It brings me immense pleasure to take charge, to relieve you of your burdens and stress. It’s why I am so good at what I do for the Kosher Nostra. It is my job to shoulder the pressure, so my Avinu does not have to.”
“Why would you want that in a relationship?” she asks in a quiet voice. “I’m 37, I should be independent. Capable. I should be in control of my own life, do things on my own. Strong enough to handle my own life.”
“Should or want?” Monty queries. Her breath hitches and while I can’t see her face, I can imagine all too well the tears that well in her eyes.
“Should.”
“And what is it that youwant?” He pushes.
“Gosh, it sounds wonderful to hand over control to you both. I’m good at my job, my sisters and I have built an incredible and successful business, and I am proud of what we have accomplished. But at the end of the day…I want to put myself, my care, and pleasure in someone else’s hands. When I’m not working, just…” she trails off as if searching for the right word.
Monty whispers, “Float.”
“Yes!”
Monty meets my eyes again with a broad, toothy grin. “You’ve been treading water for months, Sweetling, trust us to protect you while you float instead.”
Sophia shifts to her back, turning her head to look at us both. Her cheeks are a bright pink, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “I left because…I left because of what I thought Ishoulddo. Andbecause I thought I was coming between you. I know you two are a couple and I was penis-prohibiting—”
Monty and I laugh, “Penis-prohibiting?” I laugh harder as he says it. “You mean cockblocking?” She groans, raising her hands to cover her face. “We weren’t in a relationship until today.” He glances at his watch. “Well, a few hours ago actually.”
“You two have never—”
I roll my eyes at myself. “Nope. And we’re kind of dumb for not doing it sooner. Kissing Monty, kissing you, Sweetling, feels like my purpose. I kiss the two of you and I protect the Kosher Nostra. And Ishouldhave realized that before today. Should have noticed what was happening between us a long time ago.” She turns again and plants her face between my pecs, wrapping her arm and leg around me to hold me tight. The position opens herself up and my cock nestles against her pussy. Monty slides until he’s flush with her back, his hands mapping the contours of her tight little body, while teasing me with lingering touches.
“And we should have insisted that you see a therapist to help you. Unfortunately, we were selfish and enjoyed having you with us, but we also didn’t feel it was our place to interfere.”
“But being in a permanent relationship means you can interfere now?” I do not appreciate the hint of sass in her tone, and I smack her ass.
“It does.” Monty places his hand over mine as I rub the offended flesh. “Because we love you, Sweetling. And you’ve experienced trauma that needs to be processed in a healthy way.” She bursts into tears and we let her cry it out for a few minutes. Suddenly, she jumps up, rolling over Monty to get off the bed. She throws her hands up, pacing, eyes wild. Monty and I sit up, watching her like a cornered animal.
