Page 30 of Silent Ties

“She’s very supportive.”

Her lips purse and she hums under her breath.

“What?”

Irina Zimin shrugs.

“Grandma.”

“You need to treat her right.”

“I am treating her right.”

She quirks her brow.

I have no regrets about covering her tits with my cum earlier. But that is information my grandmother doesn’t need just like she doesn’t need to know about my cock hardening every time I remember the evidence her dress hides.

Russet is pleasingly submissive, but she’s not completely tamed. This evening her mouth got her in trouble. And there are times when I feel her eyes on me.

She thinks too much. I can see the wheels turning, her brow creasing and her mouth pursing to the side. She’s chatty too, always talking nonsense. Sometimes mid-sentence I’ll reach my hand under her pants, stroking her cunt. Adorably, she’ll stutter, her face reddening. She’ll ask me what I’m doing even as I push her backward, my body on top of hers.

She’s loud in bed, which makes sense considering she talks too much. But I’ve made it my mission to catalog every sound she makes. I’ll spend every night of this marriage understanding what makes her moan and what makes her eyes roll back. And I don’t care how I have to do it. By marking her, biting her, burning her.

I’ll consume all of her and she’ll let me.

“Maxie.”

Why does everyone, including my grandmother, insist on this stupid nickname?

Serious eyes stare up at me over the glass of vodka. “What are you doing to help her get situated with this new marriage?”

I frown. “I’m not a dictator. She can go out and do stuff. Mom suggested Olga go over and help.”

Before I only had a cleaner come twice a week. A chef prepared and left meals for the week and the laundry got done by someone like clockwork. Olga took over everything, keeping Russet company and helping her settle in.

“I didn’t ask what Olga was doing. I asked whatyouare doing?” She rolls her eyes after a beat of silence. “What does marriage look like to you?”

I shrug.

She sighs, shaking her head. No wonder Elijah grew up with a flair for the dramatics. “You’re the kid who planned out his entire life. You knew what university you wanted to go to. What degree you wanted. You picked out your home with meticulous care and if anything is out of place it drives you mad. And now you’re telling me you never once thought about your future wife?”

“Grandma. . .”

She raises a finger in warning. “You are a good boy, Maxie. You married for the good of the family. But now you have your own family.”

Russet is mine to protect, but it’s possible I consider her more like a houseguest.

“Talk to her,” Grandma advises.

“That’s all she does.” Irritating nervous chatter. When I get home I want to relax. Lately, that means spanking her ass until it’s blooming and sheathing myself into her warm cunt. It’s the first time in months, I’m calm enough to drift offinto an easy sleep at night. She warms my bed, I’ll give her that.

“I hope you are listening to her,” Grandma says. She waggles the same threatening finger. “And I hope you don’t just listen but are talking too.”

My grandma fell in love with my grandfather after they married. She has strong feelings about what makes for a good marriage, so I keep my mouth shut. The past month, the only thing I’m expecting from this marriage is an alliance. Grandma, the romantic she is, expects love. I hate to break it to her.

“Oh, my dear boy.” She hops off the stool and pinches my cheek.

I pat her hand. “When did we decide this was our new version of hugging?”