Chapter 3

Three

Aster

I twist my fingers around the cool, fleeting feeling of hope. My godfathers slowly rise and push away from their table.

I track the shadows of my three mafia men as they push to the far end of the ballroom. Each of them slips through arching French doors and into the lush gardens beyond without a backward glance.

Déjà vu hits.

Fear and a rush of excitement winds through me. This is it. One second I am breaking out into a cold sweat and in the next I'm burning up with need.

It's too late to worry about whether I should do this. Besides, if not tonight, when?

I move between couples seeking pleasure in each other's arms. If members of this society can have what they want, then so can I. No one has to know and I trust my cousin to keep his mouth shut.

I push the long strands of my hair from my face and take the first step toward either a terrible decision or possibly the best kind of mistake I can commit.

Only the morning will tell.

If you want something, reach out and take it. No one will just give it to you.

Those words were meant for my older brothers from our father. But I took them as my own. After all, I am a Constantine as well.

Sweet, sensual hints of jasmine welcome me when I step through the same doors they just left. To my right are pristine gardens, sensual sculptures and endless amounts of moonlight. I pause for a moment. The ache in me turns vicious when I head to the right.

Okay then.

I do one-eighty and move deeper into the darkness, following a brick path. Moist leaves from an afternoon shower brush against the bare skin of my arms and legs. I opted for a soft cashmere dress that hugs my curves and dips just enough to reveal the golden chain with the heavy crown tucked between my breasts. The last birthday gift I received from Mirsha.

I round a small bend in the path and come to a sudden stop.

I inhale sharply. For a second, I think I have stumbled into Greek gods making out in the gardens of the Society. But no. It's just the power of silver light and the talented hand of a sculptor.

A huge, lifelike statue towers above me. Smooth, sensuous lines reveal an aroused man bearing the weight of a voluptuous woman. His lips are perpetually a breath away from claiming a tight nipple. His partner holds their shared lover steady from behind, his hard, polished shaft set to take her most forbidden of entrances. There's not one detail missing from the piece of art illuminated by the full moon.

Now more than ever, I want to become part of the erotic magic this garden holds and tonight, I hope I can find a cure for this insatiable ache inside me.

Warmth spills between my legs, and I clench them tightly to fight back the wave of lust. As if by some unseen force, I am propelled forward. One step turns into ten and I don't stop until I see them.

I come to the end of the brick walkway and kick off my stilettos. Moonlight seeps through the branches of a lazy willow weighed down with decades-old moss. This one is much older than the one in my mother's garden.

Beneath this one I spot the shadows of the men I love. Viper leans his substantial size against the massive trunk. I can tell it's him by his perpetual relaxed position and the curtain of black hair draped over his shoulders. Luther rests his large frame on an exposed root, his elbows pinned to his knees, a cigar between his fingers. Smoke curls into the night air and drifts along the breeze to drape over me like a warm embrace.

Raw heat tingles from the bottom of my feet all the way to the roots of my hair.

"I can do this," I tell myself and move toward them. Slow at first, but it's hard to stay calm when they are so nearby.

Cool, wet grass cushions my weight and masks my presence. Hints of music and cries of pleasure mix with the sounds of a Louisiana night.

I'm just about to step out of the shadows and into the moonlight to reveal myself when strong fingers, followed by a warm palm, glide over my bare shoulder.

"There you are, baby girl. Haven't you learned to stop chasing men in gardens?"

I freeze, air locking in my lungs.

And then I get a mind-warping hit of cologne. Oh, God .

It serves as a direct current to my libido and it takes all I have inside me not to strip off my dress and demand to be fucked.

Forbidden as it may be, it's what I want. I want all three to take control and claim me. Maybe that is how I purge them from my soul and then I can move on.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to seek us out."

But I am not that brave yet. I stay motionless and melt into my godfather's possessive touch as it glides from my shoulder and over the hard peaks of my breasts.

"Our sweet Aster." My name sounds torn from his lips. Like it pains him to say it.

I shudder in his arms as his hand smooths down my quivering abdomen to settle over a hip, effectively locking me to him like he's as desperate to feel all of me as I am him.

"Are you wanting us to die for you? Is your father hiding nearby ready to send us to hell?"

"No. Never. You don't understand," I blurt out and try to turn but the powerful grip on my hip keeps me from turning.

"Then what are you doing here?"

I've come to beg you to take me to bed and make this insatiable hunger to have you claim me go away. But the words are lumps of self-doubt choking me. Who would believe me? I sound crazy just thinking the words.

So, I stick with another form of the truth. "Looking for you."

His lips surround the soft lobe of my ear before he nips the tender flesh. The sudden spike of pain mixed with pleasure has me gasping. The way my curves meld into the hard plains of my captor's body leaves me breathless.

I reach behind me and sink my fingers into soft hair and our lips move closer. "Mirsha," I breathe heavily in a rush of soft syllables and angle my face up to his. Using both hands, I wrestle my nerves into submission and shove them into the corner. I'm not here to hide what I want. And I guess neither is he from how his thick cock teases the seam of my ass and his lips brush against mine.

"You're shaking," he murmurs roughly, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

My heart pounds wildly. "You scared me," I admit softly, unable to take my eyes off him.

His chest expands with a deep breath, like he's filling his lungs with my scent.

"Good," my godfather rumbles and the vibrations penetrate me to the core. "There's a lot you should fear in the darkness. Does your father know where you are?" he growls next to my ear.

There are millions of ways to answer that question, but I settle on the deepest of my personal truths. I lift a shoulder with a slight shrug. "It doesn't matter now that I am here."

His expression hardens in the moonlight and looks about as cold as the statue I ran into earlier.

A brooding frown settles on his lips. "Ah, baby girl, what have you done? Your father will be murderous," he husks in a strangled tone. Like he's fighting an inner war and the wrong side is winning at the moment.

His warmth seeps into me.

"I'll deal with him later. Right now, I just need to know..."

"What?"

I don't realize my hand has come up to my throat, until Mirsha snarls, "Has he hurt you again?"

I drop my hand. "Don't worry about him. My questions first. Why did you leave Chicago without staying in contact with me? There are a million ways you could have reached out in secret. Instead, you just left and all there was between us was silence. No goodbye. Nothing but a single note left for me with my cousin. Never search you out. Four words from you for six years, Mirsha. Six? Do you not love me?" Panic claws at my insides at the myriad of possible answers. I don't want to hear him say no, but I have to. How else could it be so easy for them to walk away?

"How do I make you come back to me?" My voice cracks from the weight of emotions pressing on my chest.

The hand resting over my hip tightens around the material of my dress. And for the first time in so long, my godfather's warm, firm lips find the dip in my shoulder. Teeth scrape along the tender flesh and I melt into him. My lashes fall closed and I mentally capture this moment for the dark days I know will come.

Mirsha lifts his mouth from my skin to move his attention toward my other godfathers who have yet to leave their positions by the tree. They watch and wait. For now, they stand sentry while Mirsha cocoons me protectively against him.

Here with them, I don't have to face the outside world in its full ugliness.

But Mirsha's next words force me to accept a reality I am trying to run from.

"Your father is right. You are better off without the likes of us in your life. Go home and forget about us. Do not force our hand. The last thing we want to do is hurt you. Or kill your father for hurting you."

Defeat kills the hope trying to bloom in my heart at having his lips on my skin.

"What do you mean? You don't believe you're not good enough for me, right?" I demand harshly. What the hell happened? "I can't live with never seeing you again. Would you really hurt me if I disobeyed you? Would my other godfathers?" I turn my head just in time to see the angular lines of Mirsha's chiseled jaw clench.

There's a moment of silence.

"Yes," he murmurs a few heartbeats later so deeply my heart hurts at the pain radiating back.

I narrow my eyes on him. "You're lying. I don't believe you," I counter honestly and our words clash when he cuts me off.

"You don't know what we are capable of." His tone turns tortured, angry. My godfather's lips linger over my bare shoulder. As he speaks, they feather over my skin in a way that wants me to throw us both on the ground, grass stains be damned.

"There are many pleasures to be found in pain."

I strain to hear his words but I swear I hear reverence. Fascination.

"I've lived with pain for the six years you've been gone from my life. The ache of not feeling you close. The bond we formed. The blood you marked me with. It did something to me I still don't fully understand."

He brushes away wisps of hair that have fallen across my face. "You should run from us. Don't play with grown men wanting dirty things from a girl they should never touch."

"You're not listening to me," I groan, tilting my head a little more to give him more skin to torture with kisses. "I'm a full-grown woman with needs. I'm not that shy eighteen-year-old with fantasies. I'm a twenty-four-year-old woman with ideas of my own and desires for a life full of love, Mirsha."

His expression flirts with coming off as amusingly sympathetic for a fleeting moment. "And you think three men who raised you are the ones who will fill your needs?"

The question is asked casually, but he forgets to shield the sparks and flames dancing deep in his eyes. If he'd done that, I might backtrack so fast out of here I would time travel.

My heart quickens. But since he's leaving his emotions front and center for me to discover, I push a little harder. I slip my hand over his and twine our fingers together. "Maybe you need to teach me the kind of pain that comes with pleasure. You know I always like to learn."

Another low growl in my ear has every inch of skin suddenly burning hot. "Do you know what you are asking for?"

Not a freaking clue, but I'm not backing down. "Show me. Teach me. I want to learn."

"This is wrong. You know I'm speaking the truth, right? No matter how old you are, your father will take anything we share tonight as a direct challenge." Mirsha's expression turns pensive, but once again his true feelings are in his eyes. I know Mirsha, Luther and Viper to be men who never drop their shields. Seeing Mirsha reveal so much to me breathes life into the threads of energy between us.

"I fear losing you forever more than anything he can do to me."

Firm lips brush over my cheek until his mouth is back on the shell of my ear. "Ahh, Aster. Didn't I teach you not to go looking for trouble?"

Raw heat explodes through me.

No. That's wrong. Not explode. What is happening inside me is so much more chaotic and all-consuming. There's no other way to explain the sudden detonation of fire in my veins.

In front of me, Luther and Viper move from the darker recesses beneath the willow tree to reveal themselves slowly in the moonlight. I hold their gazes despite the low light as they prowl closer.

Silver light brushes against the midnight blackness of Viper's long hair and Luther's blond locks. Stealthy and lethal. Like Mirsha, tattoos drape over their fingers and the light of the moon glints off the rings on Viper's right hand. How many times have I dreamed of having the cool, smooth silver caress over my heated skin just one more time?

Both older men are dressed in club attire like Mirsha—tuxedos and crisp white shirts, and perfectly tailored black slacks. They personify the power they wield.

I turn to look into my godfather's gray eyes. A shadow of sin moves across his haunted expression.

"Did you come looking for trouble? Answer me, baby girl," he urges with less patience in his voice than he had a moment ago. "Did you think you would come to find us, stir up trouble and then head home like nothing happened? Or are you trying to get back at your daddy after so long?"

As he speaks, the fingertips of his other hand caress up my arm and over the swells of my breasts. He moves until each of his strong fingers encase my throat. His touch is punishing, but not entirely painful. We both feel the pounding of my pulse.

Clues of his past hide among his words.

If there was anything I could count on growing up, it was the life lessons they made sure I took to heart. Mother focused on her club friends and Father only had patience for my brothers. It was my godfathers who helped me understand the risks of the world I was born into.

They made sure I saw men as scum, which I always found ironic given their gender.

Viper's favorite to drill in over old movies and popcorn on Saturday nights: Boys with mafia daddies wanted to use me. I see the truth in that with my mother and my father. She had the money, and he had the name. Now she relies on him for everything.

Luther's feelings were simple to follow: If a man can't share his feelings, he doesn't deserve any back.

Looking back, I can see why my father made them my godfathers. I can't imagine he ever thought the care they showered me with could turn into more.

But Mirsha's warning always left me heartbroken. He insisted I guard my heart and the body and no one could ever hurt you.

I smile to myself. It was long too late for that lesson by the time I finally learned it, but at the time he didn't know I already loved them with all my being.

"Didn't I teach you to guard yourself above all others?" Mirsha bites out, causing my chest to tighten.

"You know how he gets, baby." The edges of Viper's lips coil into a dangerous smile. "Tell the man what he wants to hear."

I might have chosen this dress for exactly what Mirsha is accusing me of. Trouble. One tug and the hem will easily rise to reveal just how dripping wet these older men make me. And then they can punish me for it.

"You—" My voice breaks and I start again. "You did. And it's true. I owe much of my knowledge to you. But if you want me to fear you, or think you will physically hurt me, that will never happen." I pause, wet my lips that have grown dry from my heavy breathing. "And don't ask me to continue ignoring all these feelings running rampant inside me," I plead with a mix of emotions in my voice. Fear of rejection is a nasty bitch with claws.

Come on Aster. Be strong.

His grip on me loosens a fraction, and he caresses my pulse point with the pad of his thumb. "You have no idea what you are asking for from us. Your father is a man with deep pockets and a lot of connections. He saved our lives, and we saved his. Taking his daughter would make us the scum we always told you to avoid."

"You regret what we shared before?" My heart is already fragile. One more blow and it will never repair.

Mirsha scrapes a hand down his face. "We should have stayed away, brothers. This is wrong." Mirsha lifts his gaze from me to look toward Luther and Viper.

I can't bear to think of them so far away.

"Wrong or not doesn't change the facts. It doesn't make anything inside any of us go away."

It seems they all consider my words. Silence fills the surrounding space.

Luther stands beside Viper, and it's his intense gaze I feel the most. Like he's peeling back the layers of my emotions to dig for the truth buried in my heart.

"You hurt, don't you, sweetness," he offers in a deep rough voice.

Viper reaches out and curls the ends of my hair between his fingers. He breathes out roughly. "Tell us, baby. Do you hurt if we get too far away? Does it hurt at night when you dream?" His voice rasps, low pitched. His words wind forbiddingly into the night air, not to be uttered in the light of day.

"She feels the same torture we do, brother."

Mirsha's dark, husky voice moves over my senses like velvet across warm silk. Smooth, flowing and the most erotic sound I've heard.

"I do, and I don't know how to control it. It's this brutal, unrelenting hunger. A bond that won't break no matter how far you get from me."

The throbbing between my legs deepens and every inch of me tries to touch as much of Mirsha as possible.

I turn my face up to his and we stay like that staring into each other's eyes. The sounds of crickets, low voices and leaves rustling all bury themselves in my memory.

"We've been here before."

His rumble of agreement is more of a husky growl than words. "Déjà vu," he murmurs roughly.

I sense Luther and Viper quietly retreat, leaving me in Mirsha's care.

I lean my head against his shoulder. "I've tried to fight my longing for you, and it has left a hole inside me filled with nothing but hurt. I put on a fake smile to mask it for as long as possible. And now it's taken over my life." Tears roll down my cheeks as I bury my face in his warmth. "Make the pain go away," I beg in a choked whisper. "Please don't push me away again. Please don't leave me."

He tilts my face with the edge of a finger and I don't fight his gentle instructions. Claiming lips fall over mine and my tortured words fade. He tastes of bourbon and cigar smoke. Vanilla and spices.

The warm pad of his tongue strokes over my bottom lip, and I follow his silent command instantly. The second I part my lips, his tongue swipes inside, stroking, caressing. Taking.

Masterful, dark and filled with forbidden hunger.

There isn't a part of my mouth he doesn't devour. And me his. Our breath mingles and all the while, the burning touch of his hand at my throat holds me captive.

Heat from Luther's and Viper's gazes caress over every dip and curve of my body and I feel compelled to go to them.

Mirsha must feel the pull they have on me too, because he breaks the kiss and turns me into him. He retraces the path his tongue left behind on my bottom lip and I shudder in his arms. Vivid fantasies of this very moment coming true spill from a vault to tug at my heartstrings.

I arch into him, rising to the tips of my toes. Our eyes connect just before I trail my lips along his jawline. Between us, his shaft grows thicker.

"The others need me," I whisper.

His entire body tenses. "Not yet," he begs against my lips. "I'm a selfish motherfucker, Aster." His hands move to grip my ass and I am hauled up his body in one fluid motion, the hem of my dress easily moving with me. The deep pitch of his voice lowers to a possessive husk. "Give me a little more time. You make me burn for you in ways that aren't right, but God help me, I can't stay away when you are this close. I promised…but I can't keep my word. Not this time." The slow way he gently rocks his hips and strokes his pent-up cock against my throbbing clit has me clinging to him and crying out.

I hope to God I don't hate the answer, but I have to ask, "Can I keep this time? I promise to be yours if you say yes. I don't hurt."

My heart squeezes, but for once, I am not afraid of the outcome. Honestly, I should feel monumentally guilty for the pleasure dripping into my veins for wanting my father's best friends after the promise he ripped from me. But I can't find it in me to care. Not when I have them this close.

"Give me your mouth again, Aster. I need to drink in the air from your lungs and taste you on my tongue before I share you with my brothers."

I have no doubt guilt will find me later and crush me under a suffocating weight. But not right now.

"Whatever you want, godfather. Just make the pain stay away."