Winter

by Michelle Love

  “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  Tommaso glanced at Raff, who gave the smallest nod. “We do. After everything that has happened, this may not seem the time to talk about the three of us, but I think we need to.”

  Inca looked at Raff, her heart pounding a little. “You think so too?”

  “I do.”

  She sat forward, still nursing the glass of scotch, feeling her skin burning. She hesitated a moment before saying in a quiet voice, “Don’t ask me to choose between you. Please. Anything but that.”

  “We’re not. We’re saying—We’re both saying … it could be the three of us. No one need know—personally, I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks, but I know you might. But this thing could stay between us.”

  Inca looked at Tommaso, trying to tell if this was a test or not. Somehow, she didn’t think so. Her heart was banging hard against her ribs. She looked at Raffaelo. “How would this even work?”

  Raff hesitated, then gently placed his glass down on the table and held out his hand. “Why don’t we show you?”

  Inca felt as if she were in a dream as the brothers both moved toward her. Was she really going to do this? The fire crackled in the grate as Raffaelo bent his head to kiss her mouth and she felt Tommaso’s fingers at the zipper of her dress. Then as he pulled it down, his lips against her spine. She closed her eyes, breathless, tangling one hand in Raffaelo’s hair, the other reaching back to cup Tommaso’s cock through his jeans. Raffaelo pulled her dress from her shoulders and lifted a breast from its lacy cup to take the nipple into her mouth.

  “Oh God,” she whispered as they took her over, losing herself in the sensations shivering through her body.

  Raffaelo’s fingers slid into her panties and caressed her clit as Tommaso’s cock, diamond-hard and huge, entered her from behind, thrusting hard into her wet and pulsing cunt. Raffaelo buried his face in her belly, his tongue stabbing at her navel in rhythm with Tommaso’s thrusts, Raff’s fingers rough on her clit. Tommaso reached around and caressed her breasts, his thumbs strumming a relentless beat across her nipples. His mouth was on Inca’s neck, hot, and his teeth grazed her skin as he took her. She came quickly, feeling Tommaso withdraw before he came, then his hot sticky cum pumping on her ass. Raff growled his desire, and before she could recover, he had laid her on the desk in the room, tugging her legs around him and plunging his equally enormous cock deep inside her.

  Inca was lost in a world of delirious pleasure. Tommaso offered her his cock, and she took him in her mouth hungrily as Raffaelo fucked her, licking the salty cum on Tommaso’s cock, tasting them both. Raff’s thrusts got harder, and she opened her legs further, wanting him deeper inside her, his cock stretching her wider and wider. She came again and again, drinking down Tommaso’s cum as he reached climax, feeling Raff pull out and ejaculate on her belly.

  Neither brother was going to let her catch her breath. Tommaso flipped her onto her stomach and pushed into her ass as she took Raff’s cock into her mouth. Tommaso slid two fingers into her cunt as his cock moved slowly but rhythmically inside her ass, and Inca could have happily died at that moment, feeling so utterly loved.

  They moved to the bedroom where Inca straddled Raffaelo, impaling herself on his cock as Tommaso entered her from behind. Being fucked at the same time by these gorgeous, sensual men was like nothing she had ever experienced. Tommaso fondled her breasts as he fucked her. Raffaelo stroked her belly and fingered her navel, looking up at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Hours passed, and when, finally, they all collapsed, utterly spent but still wrapped around her, Inca knew she would do anything with and for these two men. How on earth could it hurt anyone when it felt this good?

  “I don’t believe it.” Luna Rosenbaum’s voice was little more than a whisper as Olly told her the news. Her entire body was trembling, and she had to sit down. Her ice-blue eyes were red, and she wouldn’t look at her brother. Olly reached over to hug her, but she moved away and slumped into her sofa. “God.”

  He sat down next to her. “I know. Homicide is going to be all over this, but me and Knox will be working it too. We’ll get the bastard.”

  Luna dropped her head into her hands for a long moment. “It’s her again,” she said in a muffled voice, “getting people killed.”

  Olly frowned. “Who?”

  “Inca! Who else?”

  Olly let his sister rant on for a little while before putting his hand on her arm. “Enough now. You know as well as me that none of this is Inca’s fault. I don’t want to hear it anymore, Luna, I’m serious. Right now, you’re hurting—we all are, Inca included. And that girl loves you, Luna; don’t forget that.”

  Luna stopped and looked at him with an unreadable expression. Then she sighed. “I know. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, just … don’t lash out. Inca’s got enough going on. And I don’t need to remind you that she’s saved your life on more than one occasion.”

  “Okay, okay.” Luna waved her hands in the air to stop him talking. “I’m sorry. I’m just … God, poor Scarlett.”

  “I know. Look, I’m bushed, so I’m going home. Can I trust you enough that you won’t go looking for Inca to start a fight?”

  Luna gave her brother an annoyed look. “Of course not. Look, it’s a blizzard out there. Why don’t you stay?”

  Olly shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

  Luna lay down on the couch and closed her eyes. Sleep evaded her, the pain in her chest overwhelming. Luna Rosenbaum rarely cried and rarely let her guard down but tonight she let the tears come, sobbing quietly into the pillow until she was exhausted. She got up and, walking into her little galley kitchen, splashed water on her face. She glanced out of the window, over to the police station. She knew Knox was working tonight. Luna grabbed her phone and tapped out a text. Seconds later her phone beeped.

  Come on over.

  She smiled, tossed a coat over her pajamas, pulled rubber boots on, and scooted down the stairs, out into the storm. As she pushed open the door of the police station, she could feel the tears start again.

  Inside, Knox took one look at her face and held out his arms.

  In the morning, the snow was five feet deep. Raffaelo and Tommaso lit fires to keep the big house warm, and they sat in the kitchen, the three of them cooking and eating and talking.

  Inca felt as if she should be … she didn’t know—embarrassed? Ashamed? But she didn’t feel that at all. It was so natural to be with the two of them, laughing and talking. It was as if the storm had come at just the right time, and looking out of the window now at the whiteout, she imagined the rest of the world had gone away.

  Maybe in this world, Scarlett is still alive, she thought, and tears sprang into her eyes.

  “What is it, mio caro?”

  Raffaelo had seen her tears, and as they spilled down her cheek, he swept them away with his warm fingers. They were alone. Tommaso had gone to take a shower after breakfast. Raffaelo pulled her into his arms, and she tilted her head back for his kiss.

  “I love you,” she whispered to him, and he smiled, his gaze intense on her face.

  “Ti amo, Inca.” His lips were firm against hers, his hands sliding into the robe she wore. He was shirtless, just in his jeans, and Inca slid her hands down to cup his cock, feeling the hot length against her hand.

  “I want you inside me, Raffaelo.”

  With a groan, he let her free him from his pants, then guided him inside her, his cock filling her entirely, her gasp of excitement all he needed to thrust hard. Coupled, they tumbled to the floor, Raffaelo pushing her legs up to her chest, sliding a pillow under her hips so he could sink balls deep inside her.

  So immersed in their fucking were they that neither saw Tommaso as he came back into the room. In his hand there was a small video camera. “Keep going, my loves. I want to watch you …”

  Why did this feel okay? Inca wondered if she had crossed a line here of decency, but
then neither of the brothers looked at her with anything but absolute love and respect. Tommaso lay on the floor, aiming the camera at the sight of Raffaelo’s cock plunging in and out of Inca’s cunt.

  “We can watch it together while we fuck,” Tommaso said. He lowered his head to Inca’s breast and began to suck on her nipple, teasing the small bud until she cried out, coming violently, bucking and jerking as the two brothers tended to her. Raffaelo came inside of her then, his moans like honey to her ears.

  Tommaso, his huge erection obvious in his jeans, smiled at her. “Mio caro, shall we let Raffaelo in on our secret? Our casket of little pleasures?”

  The thought of being tied up and fucked by both of them made Inca squirm with pleasure, and she nodded. Tommaso kissed her lips as Raffaelo smiled in confusion.

  “What is this?”

  Tommaso got to his feet. “You’ll see. Raff, get Inca seated in one of those wooden chairs.”

  He disappeared, and Raff helped Inca, her legs still shaking, to her feet. God, he was beautiful, his sweat-flushed skin, his green eyes soft with love, his dark curls wild and messy.

  Inca sat in the chair, and he drew the back of his hand down his cheek. “Tu sei il motivo che respiro,” he said softly. You are the reason I breathe.

  Inca felt her heart swell with love.

  She stroked his cock, still sticky with cum and her juice, then ran the tip of her tongue from the root to the tip, her fingertips tracing a delicate pattern up and down the shaft. Raffaelo groaned, and his cock thickened and lengthened again.

  Tommaso came back in with his wooden box of treats. He smiled when he saw them. “Good.” He drew the supple leather strips from the box.

  “Here’s what we’ll do ... Inca, I’m going to tie you to the chair; Raff, you will do to her what I tell you ... if I decide you both need punishing ...”

  Raff laughed. “I’m game ... Inca?”

  She nodded, sighing happily as Tommaso crisscrossed her body with the leather strap and tied her hands behind her back.

  “Raff ... spread her legs and kneel between them.”

  Raff dropped to his knees and pressed her legs far apart.

  “Further.”

  Inca felt her hips burn. Tommaso stopped and stared at her glistening, swollen cunt. “God, look how beautiful you are. Taste her, Raff.”

  Raff licked along her slit, savoring the taste of her, flicking his tongue around her clit then plunging it deep inside her.

  Tommaso walked behind her and pulled Inca’s head back and kissed her roughly. “Inca, mio caro, do you trust us?”

  She nodded, hungrily kissing him as Raff continued his ministrations to her pulsating sex. Tommaso smiled. “You know the safe word,” he whispered. “If you want us to stop, just say it. I’m going to try a few things ... if you don’t like any of it, say so immediately.”

  “I will.” She moaned as Raff brought her to orgasm with his tongue and she squirmed against the restraints.

  Raff looked up, smiling at her, then at Tommaso. “What now, brother?”

  “Stand and offer the lady a taste ...”

  Inca took Raff’s aching cock into her mouth and sucked him until he came, pumping hot creamy cum into her throat. She swallowed him down and gasped as Tommaso reached around and thrust a dildo into her cunt.

  “You like?”

  She nodded as he fucked her with the rubber toy, grinding her hips against his hands as he plunged it deeper and deeper into her until she came.

  Exhausted, Tommaso freed her from her bonds, and the brothers stroked her body as she caught her breath.

  Afterward, she started to laugh, and they looked at her curiously. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but this is like some kind of weird fantasy palace.”

  Raffaelo grinned. “But very real, my love.”

  She put a hand on both of their faces. “I love you, both of you. You have changed my life. I’m just scared that when the snow outside melts and the world is able to get in, our little bubble will burst. I’ll have to go back to work— wherever that will be—go back to seeing my parents, my friends and try and keep this—us—a secret.”

  Tomaso shared a glance with Raff. “In Italy, it would not be such a big deal. No one knows you there.” He drew his fingertips down her belly. “Isn’t that right, Raff?”

  “Right.”

  Inca looked between them. “Why do I feel like a conversation has been had that I wasn’t part of?”

  Raff grinned sheepishly. “I was just saying to Tommaso last night—we cannot reasonably expect no one here to find out what we have been doing. It’s like you said, once people are able to see us again, they’ll know.”

  Inca felt a sadness. “I don’t want this to end.”

  “Neither do we ... which is why we thought up a plan. You said you didn’t know if you could work in the Sakura again. Here’s our plan. Sell the business. Come to Italy with us for a year. There we have a home in Sorrento, set high on the hillside. Completely secluded, but with views of Naples and, of course, Vesuvius.”

  Inca’s heart began to thud in excitement. She propped herself up on her elbows—the fact that she had two beautiful men naked either side of her didn’t escape her attention—but something else was bothering her. “I couldn’t be your kept ...” she searched for a word that wasn’t whore, but her face reddened and her smile faded. Raffaelo guessed her thoughts.

  “You would be our guest, Inca. Our friend and our guest. Anything else is nobody else’s business. You would be able to regroup there and decide on your next move.”

  Inca smiled at him. “It is tempting.”

  Tommaso chuckled. “Then it is decided. And anyway,” he glanced out at the snow still battering the huge windows. “I am so sick of seeing this white stuff. I need the sun.”

  He had no idea where Inca had gone, but he assumed wherever she was, she would be fucking somebody.

  Whore.

  Stuck in Willowbrook, it irked him that he could not kill when he needed to. As soon as he was able, he risked driving into the city. Luckily, although the roads were still treacherous, the snow ploughs had cleared the main highway into the city, and he immediately drove to the only place he could think of where there would be plenty of people and plenty of opportunities.

  The hospital.

  He chose the biggest in the city; he knew the layout, knew the dark places. Knew where the staff and patients came out to grab an illicit smoke.

  He had to wait a couple of hours before he saw her, and when he did, he almost laughed out loud. She was the most similar yet. She had Inca’s soft features, sweet smile, and long, dark hair. He took her as she passed the alleyway where he was hidden, and he smothered her until she lost consciousness. He ripped her uniform open, and because she was already unconscious, he started by carving Inca’s name on her stomach, gouging the words deep into his victim’s lovely skin.

  He had already decided that he couldn’t wait much longer. Inca would die soon. Very soon. She would bleed to death slowly from the damage his knife would inflict on her glorious body. He would make sure she suffered every moment and felt every inch of the knife that would tear through her tender flesh over and over.

  Her name carved, blood dripping, he waited for this girl to come around and, when she did, her eyes widened in terror, the pain hit, and she opened her mouth to scream as he plunged his knife deep into her abdomen.

  When she was dead—and she died disappointingly quickly—he sucked in a few deep breaths, smelling the salty rust stink of blood.

  Inca ... I’m coming for you.

  He closed his eyes and thought about her body, the honey-skin ... he would fuck her before she died, dominate her body completely. She would beg for her life, but he would not listen.

  Soon, Inca, soon.

  Inca was right, of course. The bubble did burst, and spectacularly so. A week later, the snow had almost completely disappeared, and the mansion staff came back to work. They would find no trace of the debauchery that
had preoccupied its three occupants for the last week. Tommaso had business in the city one day and, try as they might, Inca and Raffaelo could not find a moment to themselves as the house filled with trades people and staff.

  Raff looked at her regretfully as yet another almost-tryst was foiled by the chef asking him when they would like dinner served. Raff stole a kiss as the chef turned her back and Inca grinned.

  Raff nuzzled her nose.

  “Wait until we are in Italy—we need not pretend there, mio caro.”

  Two days after the snow melted, Tommaso drove Inca to her parent’s house, and Nancy hugged her daughter tightly, smiling at Tommaso.

  “Thank you for looking after her.”

  “Have you been okay?” Inca looked at her mother’s wan face, but Nancy nodded.

  “It’s just a cold. Don’t worry; your father’s been caring for me. Look, have you been into town? Seen Olly?”

  Inca looked surprised. “No, why?”

  Nancy sighed. “You’d better come and sit, and I’ll call him. He should be the one to tell you. He has some questions.”

  She looked at Tommaso. “Dear, would you mind leaving Inca with us?”

  Tommaso nodded, his eyes curious. “Of course.”

  Inca saw him to the door. “I’ll tell you what’s going on later,” she said in a low voice, kissing him goodbye.

  When he’d gone, they waited for Olly. Inca tried to quiz Nancy, but her mother wouldn’t tell her what was going on. Inca realized Nancy’s wan face must have something to do with what Olly had to tell her. Somehow Inca knew she wouldn’t like whatever he had to say. She suddenly felt anxious.

  “Mind if I do some baking? It always relaxes me, and I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

  Nancy nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “Go ahead.”

  Inca went into the kitchen and began to pull together the ingredients for muffins. She had the feeling her bubble of happiness was about to be pricked and burst.

  Olly opened the door to the kitchen and walked in, closing it behind him. Inca came out from the pantry and stopped when she saw him. A flash of distress crossed her face when she saw his grim expression.