Page 127 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
He pulls the shirt over my head, and I’m not wearing a bra underneath—have not been able to stomach wearing one since my breasts became tender with pregnancy. The cool October air hits my skin, my nipples hardening immediately, and all three men go very still.
"Fuck," Gabriel breathes, his eyes tracking over me with undisguised hunger. "You are so goddamn beautiful, Rosalina."
"Pregnancy suits her," Dante agrees, his hands sliding up my ribcage to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks that make me gasp. "She is glowing."
"She is perfect," Luca corrects, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands find the waistband of my jeans—the ones that do not button anymore—and he works them down my hips along with my underwear until I am standing naked in the courtyard except for my shoes.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my belly where our baby is growing. "My beautiful, perfect Lina."
I thread my fingers through his curly blonde hair, holding him there against me, feeling Dante's hands on my breasts and Gabriel moving closer, and I have never felt more desired, more wanted, more completely cherished.
"I need you," I tell them, because it is true. I need them the way I need air, need water, need the sun. "All of you. Please."
"Always so polite when you are desperate," Dante says with dark amusement. "We will give you what you need, Flower. We always do."
The cool evening air caresses my bare skin, but I’m burning from the inside out. This is where we pledged ourselves to each other just a few minutes ago, in this same moon-drenched garden. Where Gabriel and Luca slipped on wedding rings that match Dante’s Where assurances were exchanged between the four of us, promises whispered against lips and skin.Forever. And now, forever starts here, with their hands and mouths on me.
Luca’s kisses move lower from my belly. He nuzzles into the thatch of curls, his breath hot against my most intimate flesh. I arch into him, a low moan pulled from my throat. Dante’s thumbs circle my nipples, tightening them into painful, exquisite points. Gabriel’s large hand slides possessively down my back, over the curve of my ass, his fingers digging in.
"Look at her," Gabriel growls, his voice rough. "So ready for us."
Luca doesn’t make me wait. His tongue finds my clit in one long, devastating stroke.
Oh god.
My knees buckle, but Gabriel is there, his body a solid wall behind me, holding me up. Luca’s mouth is wicked, insistent. He licks and sucks, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud with a rhythm that has me crying out. Dante leans down, capturing my mouth, swallowing my sounds.
Gabriel’s hands are everywhere, kneading my breasts from behind as Dante claims my mouth. He pinches my nipples, the sharp jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to where Luca is working. I’m dissolving, coming apart under their combined assault.
Luca slides two fingers inside me, curling them, finding that spot that makes me see stars. His mouth never leaves me, sucking my clit into the heat of his mouth. The pressure builds, coiling tight in my belly.
"I’m going to—" I gasp against Dante’s mouth.
"Come,"Luca commands, his voice vibrating against me.
The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, breaking over me, shaking me to my core. My body convulses around Luca’s fingers, a white-hot release that leaves me panting and weak in Gabriel’s arms.
Before I can even catch my breath, they’re moving me. Gently, they lower me onto the soft, thick lawn, the grass cool and fragrant beneath my back. Dante is already stripping, his clothes falling away to reveal his lean, muscular frame. Luca stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with need as he unbuttons his jeans. Gabriel settles beside my head, his own jeans open, his hard length springing free, thick and demanding.
"More," I beg, my voice hoarse. I’m insatiable. The first climax was just an appetizer.
"You’ll get more, Bella," Gabriel promises. He guides his cock to my lips. "Take me."
I open for him, taking the broad head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the velvety tip. He tastes of salt and pure, masculine desire. I suck him deeper, my hand wrapping around the base. Above me, Dante kneels between my spread legs, his own erection pressing against my wet, sensitive entrance.
"Look at me," Dante says, his voice a low command.
I lift my gaze to his as he pushes inside me in one slow, inexorable thrust.He fills me so completely. A breathless gasp escapes me around Gabriel’s cock. The stretch is divine, my body still fluttering from my first orgasm, accepting him greedily.
He sets a deep, rolling rhythm, each thrust hitting a place that makes my toes curl. Gabriel fucks my mouth in time with Dante’s movements, the dual sensations overwhelming. I am used, worshipped, claimed. The sounds are obscene—wet, slapping flesh, ragged breaths, my own muffled moans.
Then Luca is there, kneeling by my shoulder. "My turn," he murmurs, and I turn my head, releasing Gabriel with a pop to take Luca into my mouth. He’s different, slightly smaller but just as hard, and I love the feel of him, the taste of him salty with a twinge of sweet.
They rotate. Gabriel moves down my body, replacing Dante between my thighs. He’s bigger, and the stretch is more intense, a delicious burn that makes me cry out. He pins my hips to the grass, driving into me with powerful, possessive strokes that jolt my entire body. I feel every inch, the perfect friction setting my nerves alight.
Dante is now at my mouth, Luca kneeling by my head, his hand stroking my hair. "You take us so well, Bella," Luca whispers, his voice thick with awe. "Our perfect girl."
Gabriel’s pace becomes punishing, brutal in its perfection. I’m hurtling toward another peak, my body tightening around him. "Gabriel, please..."
