Page 18 of Silent Ties (Ruling Love #1)

Russet

A blur of a month goes by.

Paublino simmers down over the death of the woman he loved. Or at least promises Lev and Max I won’t be a target anymore.

Lev called and told me a few days after I made contact with Daisy.

“You okay?” he asked in a voice I’ve noticed he only uses with me. Sometimes I worry at the idea of him treating me like an actual daughter.

“Yes,” I answered gazing out the car window. Pavel slowly crawled in traffic, Sergei beside him in the front seat. I wanted to walk to a coffee shop to treat myself to a caramel macchiato but got denied.

“I admire how you always keep your chin up, Russie.”

No one other than Daisy calls me that, but his voice left me blinking for another reason. I couldn’t remember the last time I received a compliment.

“I just. . . ” wish Paublino would get revenge on Marissa. Not at my expense but still.

“Maxie treating you well? ”

“Yeah.”

“If he’s not, you tell me and I’ll give him hell for it.” He laughed, but a second later added, “He was worried you know.”

Was he? When I arrived back from lunch, I found him studying in his office.

He poked his head out and for a second, I thought his hard gaze was because he knew I’d borrowed Lennie’s phone to call Daisy.

Instead, he mentioned Olga went to the store and bought all the ingredients on my list before ducking back to his studies.

It’s our ritual of sorts lately. If he’s home after dinner, he retreats into his office and I bake. I’ve preferred trying new recipes in the evening when Olga’s not hovering, though, she grumbles when she arrives to a pile of dishes in the morning.

When Max isn’t studying, he’s working, whatever that means. Since Marissa’s surprise needled most of the criminal world, he’s increasingly pulled in more directions.

On those nights, he wordlessly slips into bed and I’m shamelessly ready for him. My legs wrap around his waist as he pushes into me. It’s hard and fast and I hold onto him, needing the release as much as him.

I know he’s stressed because he’s silent, not whispering dirty things like normal. But for a moment sometimes I think we cling onto one another. Though, of course, he doesn’t hold me after. He’ll hold his head up, watching me walk to the bathroom after, but that’s about it.

Gia Akatov told me the best revenge on Yelena meant taking her son. It’s not that I want something of Yelena’s, but rather something of my own.

Maybe I’m deluding myself but I can’t help but wonder if the only time we’re in sync is during sex. It’s a physical reaction sure, but I’ve never felt this good with anyone else.

His punishments satisfy me in a way I should be ashamed of .

But I’m not and the worst part is I want more of them.

I’ve tried to figure out Max for the past four months. He’s a silently broody man who throws himself into his studies and work. We practically eat in silence when he’s around for dinner. The only time he’s talkative is during sex.

If I want to talk to Max that’s where I have to start. Pillow talk at its finest.

And okay, so the things he says to me aren’t the beginnings of stimulating conversations. . . I mean stimulating yes, but for other reasons. I just need to find one thing and work from there.

The penthouse is quiet. Max doesn’t like noise so there’s never any TV or music on in the background. It drives me nuts, but working in the kitchen, and focusing on figuring out how to properly frost cupcakes, helps.

“You just gotta start somewhere,” I whisper to myself.

Licking icing off my thumb I decide there’s no better time to start than now.

He left the double doors of his office open and I take it as a good sign. At first, they used to constantly be closed and I sensed the need for him to protect his sacred space at all times.

Now I often hear the taping of his keyboard despite the living room separating the study and kitchen.

I lean against the doorjamb. “Hi.”

I’m desperate to know how he pulls off sweatpants so well. His white T-shirt pulls across his muscles as he barely flicks his eyes toward me. And holy hell, Clark Kent.

“I didn’t realize you wear glasses.” I’ve never spotted him wearing the plastic frames before.

He turns his face back to the computer screen, inching forward in his chair like he wants to stick his nose in the knowledge.

“They’re reading glasses,” he quietly says. He might be in comfy clothes but he’s tense .

“They look really good.” The compliment doesn’t match the glow in my belly because fuck—this nerdy guy is hot. Since I didn’t go to college, perhaps I never learned about this particular kink. Or maybe it’s just Maxim I’m increasingly attracted to.

I’d like to think things changed after Marissa’s attack. We didn’t exactly lean in together, but we didn’t step back. Everything he’s said in the past about Marissa wanting to hurt me is true.

But I don’t want Marissa to hurt the Zimin’s either. At least not Max and his dad and brothers.

If Marissa, or anyone else, taunts them, then they’re also taunting me. We’re a team.

“The cupcakes are done,” I told him. “Do you want one?”

He clicks on something. “I’m not a sweets person.”

He’s said this before, but he ate a pastry yesterday. I suppose it makes sense, him being a savory type of dessert guy.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No.”

“Okay,” I say, but I refuse to be defeated.

I walk straight to my dresser, digging through it.

I change into a silk nightgown that barely covers my lacy panties. So I don’t appear obvious I wander to the kitchen, placing the cupcakes in some Tupperware and pile as many dishes as I can in the sink for Olga.

Only then do I softly tread back to the office. “I’m going to bed.”

Seeing as I’ve never announced this before he looks over. And soaks in every inch of my body.

He turns back to the computer. “Okay.”

Real smooth, Russet.

The one time I don’t want the king-size bed to myself is the only time my husband isn’t tempted.

This is fine. I need to reformulate, but I can do this.

I’m staring up at the ceiling wondering what to do, when I spot his laptop on the end of the bed. If it’s synced up to his desktop it might just work.

I pull open a website and squeeze my eyes tight like a nervous teenager as I begin to type the word vibrator into the search bar.

Yep, lots of options. And the suggestions. . .

Max continues to type in the other room.

It’s either stupid or petty but all of a sudden the naughty shopping spree begins. Vibrators, butt plugs, lube, whatever that is that looks mildly dangerous, is added to the cart.

His card is attached to the account and I’m ready to press order when I pause. Do I really want to poke the bear?

Max’s grumpy sigh from the other room causes me to reconsider the shipping option. Why wait a couple of days when I could get this stuff now. We do live in the city that never sleeps after all.

“What’s the point of being rich,” I say to myself, though, I can’t stop an internal cringe at the price. I don’t care. I tap Order.

The laptop dings and I open it, despite not knowing how Max would react to my casual scrolling through his email.

Thanks for your order!

The typing dies down. He never comes to the bedroom, though, and I’m a dork waiting for my package.

When I hear a tell-tale ding, I leap from the bed. “It’s for me!”

One of the guards downstairs placed the awkwardly large box in the elevator for me.

“Thank you,” I chirp, knowing there’s a camera they watch.

I’m halfway across the living room when I hear, “Russet.”

I can count the number of times he’s used my full name. When we first met, on our wedding day. For some reason, when he talks to his dad, he only refers to me by my full name. And then of course there was the time he called me Russ when he fucked me on the kitchen floor.

Turning slowly, I worry about what I’ll find.

His phone is in his hand. “Did you just pay thirty dollars in delivery fees?”

Standing there holding the giant box, I nod.

“Why?” He frowns. “It qualified for free shipping.”

I spent three hundred dollars on sex toys and he’s more concerned about the price of shipping?

“But I’d have had to wait two days.”

His frown deepens as he glances at his phone. “And you couldn’t wait?”

“Some things can’t wait.”

Max sighs, setting his phone on the desk. “You needed a vibrator right this second?”

He says it so casually. Other than the disappointment regarding the shipping fees, his face remains blank.

“Yes, I do.” If I wasn’t holding the giant box, I would flip my hair off my shoulder. Instead, my toes curl into the wood floor as I stand under his scrutiny.

His glasses reflect the computer screen. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Just make sure to clean up afterwards.”

My face turns the same shade as my nightgown.

Why can’t I have a normal husband? Oh, right, because I married a mafia prince without ever speaking to him first.

A strong, tingling sensation wakes me up. Not understanding at first I try to roll over, getting my bearings.

What the fuck? My hands are pulled over my head. The panties I’d gone to sleep in, are tied tight, pinning my wrists to the headboard.

“What the—” The words are hoarse with sleep.

Max is beside me, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. Fingers slowly run across my cunt, up and down methodically.

“What is that?” I ask. The cool sensation is too strong.

His brows lift slightly. “You didn’t want to try the arousal cream you got?”

“Huh?” I say like I have no idea what he’s talking about.

He smirks, shifting slightly and then rips the silk nightgown like it’s nothing.

The air is even stronger against my throbbing pussy.

I don’t know what time it is since I can’t look at my phone but I’m destabilized at my position.

I didn’t feel Max pushing back the covers or taking off my underwear. Hell, he tied me up while I slept.

Now, his fingers glide over my bare stomach. He takes his time, holding up the bottle of gel which I added last minute to my shopping cart.