Page 49 of Sold to the Russian
They laughed at that, unbothered by his irritation. His siblings weren’t subtle creatures, but they were loyal and they loved each other more deeply than anything. When one disappeared too long without a known mission, the othersnoticed—even if it meant crashing into a quiet house and turning it into a raucous warzone for the night.
“As you can see,” Fedya stated, gesturing to himself. “I’m alive and well.” Then he pointed at the front door. “There’s the door. You can return from where you came.”
Irina laughed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Fedya. It’s game night, remember? Every last Saturday of the month? We decided to bring the game with you since you were absent from the estate.”
Right, that. Of course.
Fedya appreciated the gesture, but he was still very much tempted to send them away. Taking Maeve as his date to an event and introducing her to his siblings was one thing. However, having them storm into the privacy of this house was another. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel overwhelmed by their rambunctiousness, even as the adults they were.
But then he heard Maeve, with interest in her voice, asking, “What kind of game?”
“The best kind,” Viktor grinned, holding up a box markedCards of Ruin: Family Edition. Bored of Fedya, Viktor, and Kostya left him to join Ilya, Irina, and Maeve in the living room. Maeve sat cross-legged on the couch beside Irina, a genuine smile on her face as Kostya ripped the box open. Ilya said something about how he was certain she would love it since Valentina was addicted to it. Kostya said he wouldn’t be shy to beat Maeve just because she was pretty. And she was laughing, tucking her hair behind her ear as she eagerly watched Viktor set the table.
The only time Fedya had seen her this relaxed was when he watched her paint through the CCTV. And now that henoticed that she didn’t seem to mind being around his siblings, he felt at ease.
He wrapped up dinner and stepped back from the kitchen. “I’m going to wash off the smell before dinner. Keep your dirty hands off my food.”
“No promises,” Viktor called after him.
After his bath, he headed straight to the security terminal tucked in the linen closet, about to check the security footage as he did regularly, even more obsessively now that Maeve had been spending so much of her time in that studio. But it was different tonight. He wasn’t just watching her paint with the usual furrow between her brows, the usual concentration in her eyes, the usual bite of her lip as she stroked paintbrushes across the canvas.
She was half naked, legs spread out on the floor, her fingers between her thighs, her eyes locked on the camera.
On him.
He clenched his teeth as he watched her play with her pussy. She’d known he would see it. Hell, she wanted him to. That would explain why her eyes hadn’t moved from the camera even once. There was no mistaking that bold, brazen stare, inviting him with every breathless moan, every roll of her hips, every bite of her bottom lip as she fucked herself to an orgasm.
His knuckles were whitened around the edge of the desk as he leaned forward, jaw tightening when she sucked herself off her fingers. Was this just her way of keeping him distracted? Of letting his guard down? Because it was working a little too well.
He’d fucked her once, and it had ruined him. He’d fucked himself too many times after that, his pleasure heightened whenever he smelled her through her panties or wrapped themaround his cock as he stroked himself. He hadn’t touched her again, not physically, giving himself time to figure out how to maneuver his feelings for her, the realization that he was going in too deep with her. And now here she was, crawling under his skin with everything she did, making a home for herself in his brain and in his heart.
Minutes after taming his cock, he returned to the living room to find it cozier than he’d left it. Irina had taken the lead, her legs tucked up beside Maeve, gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Kostya lounged in an armchair, shuffling a deck of cards. Ilya was on the phone, and Viktor was already opening bottles of vodka, passing shots to everyone in the room.
Viktor noticed him first. “Look who decided to join us!” he announced with a cheer, drawing the attention to him. “Come here, baby brother.”
Fedya’s eyes slid from his brother to Maeve, and he could feel it—the tension simmering between them. He stared at her like he was trying to tell her that he knew what she’d done, and the corner of her lip lifted, her smirk triumphant as he walked into the living room.
Kostya tossed his shot back and nodded like it hit the spot. “Alright, now that you’re here, let’s make this fun. Maeve, are you any good at poker?”
“I can hold my own,” she smiled.
“Perfect.” He dealt the cards. “Let’s play for real money.”
Irina grinned, shifting closer to her brother. “Sorry, Maeve, but I’m on Kostya’s team.”
Viktor stood dramatically, shaking his arms by his sides before moving to Maeve. “Then I’m on hers. Let’s go, Team—what’s your favorite color, Maeve?”
“Black,” Fedya answered confidently. He’d observed her too much not to be able to come to the conclusion that that was her favorite color.
Maeve bit her smile. “I don’t actually have a favorite color,” she said. “But, if I had to choose, then yes, it’d be black.”
Viktor clapped. Fedya suspected he was tipsy. “Let’s go, Team Black.”
Ilya had gone to the corner, away from the noise, to continue his phone call. He was spewing some nonsensical baby talk, so it was obvious who his caller was.
Fedya sat, folding his arms as he played a quiet spectator.
Maeve fumbled at first, uncertain of Kostya’s bluffs. His brother was loud, cocky, and exaggerated in every sense of the word. It was funny watching him be an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face. But then, after a few rounds, Fedya watched with a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Maeve’s focus sharpened, her rounds lethal, catching Kostya and Irina by surprise.
