The Bychkov Bratva need an heir. Now.

They wanted a girl quickly, so they chose an orphanage where no one would ask questions, and planned to use her until she was pregnant. Instead, they got twenty-one-year-old American, Starla Anderson. When the Russian Mafia invades the orphanage where she lives – in the middle of the night, throwing the nuns who raised her into a petrified frenzy – it’s Starla who is chosen as the only one who could possibly survive the Bratva and their demands.

In spite of her own fear of the three massive, glowering and scary men, Starla has to think and act fast. With her heart thundering in her chest, and her body on fire at their mere presence, she sees an opportunity, something that might help the other girls at the impoverished orphanage get a chance at a better life. She lays out her only condition: her body for a fee…

Except… No one says no to the Bratva.

Publisher’s Note: This reverse harem, dark mafia romance contains elements of mystery, suspense, ménage, power exchange and a guaranteed HEA.


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“Tap Dimitry’s chest, if you have had enough,” Mikhail whispered, saying what Dimitry wanted. The thought that they worked in such sync together rippled through her.

But admit defeat? No. No. She couldn’t. She had to secure her position now, let them know she wasn’t a pushover. She could withstand this. The pain and the humiliation. And they need never know that her panties under her double pair of pajamas were getting soaked for the very two reasons she didn’t want to admit. The pain and humiliation had had made her wet.

Breathing raggedly, she curled her fist on Dimitry’s chest, pushing him away but not wanting to tap his chest to signal his victory. Saliva started to form at the corners of her mouth. He didn’t let go and if she kept still, he lessened his grip on her. She was wildly embarrassed and… defeated. Just defeated.

Tears dripped from her eyes, unwanted tears, stupid tears she wished she didn’t spill in front of them. Not while one brother had her tongue between his teeth, piercing her flesh for her defiance while his brothers looked on.

She hated that she was crying, and it made her madder. Weakly she battled against him until suddenly her tongue was released and she was backed into Mikhail with the same speed he had come at her.

“Fuck,” the massive Russian pinning her down said softly before he captured her mouth in his. He was no more gentle as his mouth ground into hers, stealing her breath until she gasped in panic. And that’s when he swooped in. His tongue licking her now where he had bitten down on her before. Her body drowning into the hot hard shield that was Mikhail’s body behind her.

She sighed into them. Her body falling into them. Dimitry pressed into her harder until his erection pinned her down the same way Mikhail’s held her from behind.

She moaned and involuntarily swayed her body against them. Their grunts echoed in her ears and she did it again. She had no idea what she was doing except that the tightness in her body threatened to explode if they didn’t… didn’t…

Dimitry released her mouth, and clutching her chin raised her face to his. “Are you wet?” he asked in Russian, he had released the hold on her body and now his hands were at the sides of both hers and Mikhail’s heads, his body compressed into hers. She shuddered. It was a test. A question meant to defy him yet again. But with her lips swelling, her tongue still sore, yet rousingly so, her nipples aching, her body on fire sandwiched between the two of them… she answered before she could stop herself.

“Yes,” she said softly, like a butterfly caught between the paws of lions. Here was her consent. She knew that. They knew that. “Yes,” she said again, accepting she would never understand why these men affected her this way. Why their touch, their closeness was something she craved and never knew she did.

Dimitry glanced at Mikhail, a look so small if she hadn’t been so completely immersed in them, she would have missed it.

She leaned back against Mikhail as his arm drifted around her waist. As Dimitry pulled at both her pajama bottoms. As Mikhail’s hand slipped into her panties. As Dimitry dragged her panties down then crept his hand behind her, pulling her clothes down with his hand on her ass. As Mikhail’s warm calloused palm glided over her mons.

She dropped her head to Dimitry’s chest. He took a handful of her hair at her nape with his one hand, his other cupping her backside, his fingers slipping between her ass cheeks. His soft roars tantalizing her as he used his foot, to force her to spread her legs for his brother.

She threw her head back then as Mikhail’s finger slid over her clit, then down to between her lips. She cried out as his digit dipped into her, sinking into her wetness, at the same time as her gaze engulfed Nikolay.

He stood watching them, a drink in his hand. When Dimitry bit the side of her neck and she groaned, he downed the drink in one go, never taking his eyes off her. She lowered her eyelids and more wetness seeped from her at the sight of Nikolay’s erection in his pants. Why wasn’t he touching her though? And the thought of feeling his hands on her like she was drowning under both his brothers sent more thrills through her.

She was so close to coming. A butterfly crushed between the paws of lions. Mikhail stroked her clit, licking on the other side her neck. Dimitry, with his arm still around her, his hand on her backside, his long, strong and hard fingers sailed from ass to her pussy, pulling at the lips of her center from behind her, driving her mad with lust.

She was so close… until everything changed. Mikhail and Dimitry tensed around her, their hardened bodies instantaneously turning into some form of weapons. Nikolay had reached for his gun. What was happening? Her body screamed in protest, taking longer to catch up with her mind and what was happening.

She was deserted at once, and her shame came rushing at her as she pulled up her pajama pants.