Page 29 of Silent Ties (Ruling Love #1)

Russet

T he hallway’s unlit but when I open the door, I spot a tall lurking figure staring at the photos along the wall. Dima.

He glances back at the opening door, nodding in hello. He’s got his usual glass of alcohol in hand, his other shoved in the pocket of his jeans. He seems scruffier than normal and I make a note to buy him beard oil for his birthday or Christmas. I’m not sure which gift-giving event occurs first.

“You okay?” he asks.

I thought I’d wiped my face blank. Smiling, I nod.

Honestly, if there’s anyone who has information about the Ghost it’s Dima. Max is a man of few words but practically gloats anytime he talks about his uncle. He’s his favorite and he looks up to him.

But Dima is clever. The minute I start asking questions, warning bells will go off.

“Maxie mentioned someone you knew recently died.” Dima’s tired face frowns further, in a showing of sympathy. “I’m sorry. ”

“It was my old neighbor,” I explain. The funeral occurred two weeks ago, but Nancy’s been on my mind every day since.

“She was good to you?”

That’s an understatement. “I think you’d like her. She used to take me to the gun range all the time.”

A rare smile lights up his face. But his dark eyes seem to study me. His gaze goes from my face to something on the left.

Max appears from a set of stairs I’ve never noticed. I’ve never gotten the full tour of the place and I’m willing to bet it’d take hours. He nods at his uncle and then catches my hand, pulling me up the stairs.

“What are we doing?” I whisper in the dark. No one is around and there’s an air of haunted abandonment to this wing of the house.

He pulls me down a hallway, past another living room. Pictures line the walls and I make a mental note to inspect these childhood photos later.

Opening a door, I come to a stop in an airy, clutter-free bedroom.

I smile. “Is this your bedroom?”

He closes the door, his eyes feral in the dark.

And now I’m laughing. “Absolutely not.”

Softly, he trails a finger down my cheek. He keeps going, running it over my chest.

“There are people everywhere.”

“Hardly,” he replies, slowly dragging his hand over my nipple. “No one’s upstairs.”

“They’ll know as soon as we go downstairs,” I argue.

“It’s not my fault your face can’t keep a secret.” He drags his tongue over my cheek.

“Gross.” I push him away and circle the room.

The boyhood version of Max is very similar to the adult. A king-size bed is centered against one of the walls. The blue duvet made up neatly. There’s a dresser and a desk. Nothing else. A line of books sit on the desk and I itch to mess something up. Just one little thing so it’s not so clinical.

Max grabs my hand like he knows.

“It’s my birthday,” he says with a smirk.

“And that means you have to be fucked on the hour, every hour?” I’m sore from earlier and the way he keeps looking at me, I know I’m in trouble for tonight.

His eyes darken, his chest lifting with a deep breath. “If you’re offering, yes.”

I try to back away. “I’m not offering.”

He holds me closer, my body molding to his. A hard bulge presses into my stomach and I lose a breath for a second.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?

I slide down to my knees. His brows lift for a second but there’s no debating the excited gleam in his eyes.

Something about today has him acting all boyish and it’s kind of cute.

He watches carefully as I unzip his pants, pulling them down. I maintain eye contact as I dig my fingers into the band of his briefs.

His swollen cock points straight at me, purple veins popping out.

I wrap my hand around him and he reaches out for me but I dodge him.

“I said don’t ruin my hair!”

His eyes narrow.

“If you want your cock sucked, then be a good boy.”

Is it just me or did his cock thicken even more?

I smile in triumph, my hand working him. Teasingly, I swirl my tongue around the head before licking all the way up.

He lifts his hand again, but I swat it away. I know I’m playing with fire, that he’ll never fully surrender his control, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts .

“Do you want me to make you come?” I ask, looking up at him from my lashes.

“Russet,” his dark voice commands. “Swallow my fucking cock before I decide to ruin your hair.”

I mock gasp.

“You know I’m going to punish you for being a cock tease.” He groans when I not so gently squeeze him. “Fucking put me in your mouth.”

“Well, I guess it is your birthday.” I only have time to lick the underside of his shaft, my tongue swirling over his cockhead when hands fist into my hair. And just like that, he takes control.

He thrusts in and out, hitting the back of my throat. My high heels dig into my ass as I kneel, my hands clinging to his thighs. I clench my own thighs at the noises he makes because it’s my mouth he fucks.

His muscles tense and my eyes burn at how he grips my hair as cum coats my mouth. He continues to thrust, his thumb sweeping the corner of my mouth.

“Every last drop,” he demands, power rippling over him and I swallow.

I squirm when he steps back, impatient.

All he does is laugh.

“What?” he asks.

I pout from where I sit on the floor.

“Cock teases don’t get to come.”

“You did,” I moodily reply.

He hauls me up and before I know it, we’re crashed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I wiggle beside him, blinking coyly.

He smirks, holding me to his side, but his hand only travels down my backside, rubbing my ass.

“Max,” I whine .

He kisses the back of my hand and then slowly drags his way down my body.

“Just so you know I don’t think you deserve this.” Air hits my thighs as he lifts up my dress. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you were doing, teasing me like that, but trust me it’ll be dealt with.”

“It’s called a bit of fun.”

He tears my panties down my leg, letting them fall over my heels to the floor. Slowly, he runs his hands back up my legs, spreading them wider, his breath soft against my core.

“Max.” I lift my hips, trying to prompt him.

His tongue flattens, running over my pussy. I don’t know how my dress isn’t on fire, my skin burns so badly. He sucks my clit and my back arches off the bed.

But then he slowly, gently caresses me, leisurely licking my cunt. “Isn’t this fun?” he teases.

I nearly throw a temper tantrum. We do not have time for games. His family is waiting downstairs.

He smirks against my sensitive flesh. “If you’re not going to be good, you’re not going to come.”

“I am good!” I argue. He thrusts his tongue inside me, sucking deep. His thumb swirls over my clit and I see stars.

I’m panting on the bed, but he remains bent over me, licking the arousal off my upper thighs.

“Stop.” I tug at his hair, but it’s a pathetic attempt. It’s not until he decides he’s done that he gently crawls over me and presses a kiss against my lips, letting me taste myself on him. Something about the soft and slow kiss has a part of me aching.

Everyone from my past thinks I’m spreading my legs open for a mafia prince.

I’m not. It’s for Max. Every part of me throbs for him. Not just his cock or his mouth. But the way he takes care of me. How he worships my body and my soul .

If I said no, I didn’t want to fuck him with his parents downstairs, he’d tease me but respect my wishes.

If I didn’t want to come to his parents and see Yelena he’d be fine with it.

He secretly likes my avocado-themed pajamas and he can say what he wants but I see how he secretly listens to my reality TV shows.

He’s Max. My Max.

I fight the pressing need to close my eyes and doze off on his chest. After a while he moves, the light in the attached bathroom flicking on. Water runs and he comes back out, his pants zipped. With a washcloth, he carefully cleans me but when I sit up I curiously look around.

“What?” he asks innocently, throwing the washcloth back into the bathroom.

“Where is my underwear?” I ask, frowning. They’re nowhere to be found.

He shrugs. “They were wet and dirty anyway.”

“Max!” I hop off the bed, tugging my dress down.

“What? You don’t want to be a wet and dirty girl do you?”

I pause with my hand on the door. “Pay back will be a bitch.”

He smirks, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I can’t wait to see you try, Mrs. Zimin.”

Dinner’s served, cake passed out (Roma and Max both agreed no singing) and most of the guests are gone.

The evening is quiet, the living room much cozier without staff milling around with platters. Max tucks me into a big, comfy chair he’s claimed as his own. Yelena keeps to herself in the corner and Irina and Lev argue in Russian.

“What’s this?” Elijah holds up a bag .

“It’s for Roma.”

Elijah peeks into it.

“Don’t poke into business that’s not yours.” Dima snatches the bag and hands it to his nephew.

Roma blinks. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Max says under his breath, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“Go ahead.” I motion for him to open it.

He plucks blue paper tissue out of the bag and lifts a bottle of whiskey. “Oh, wow. Thank you.” He smiles wide, his eyes crinkling. I’m feeling good until he passes it to his dad.

“Thank you, son.” Lev smiles down at it, pleased as a cat.

My mouth drops open. “But he’s the one that said you like that!”

Roma shrugs. “I’m more of a beer guy if I drink. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Lev shows off the bottle to his brother.

“Did I just get played by Lev Zimin?”

“ The Lev Zimin.” Max smirks, humor lighting his eyes.

“What about this one?” Elijah holds up another bag.

“For fuck’s sake.” Roma grabs it and passes it to Max.

“You didn’t have to,” Max murmurs.

I stay quiet. Everyone is peeking over. There’s another mountain of gifts thanks to the guests Yelena invited but the way Max’s family is acting, you’d think they never pass out presents on birthdays.

He carefully takes out the gold tissue paper, folding and smoothing it before reaching into the bag again. He pulls out two hardbacks.

Silently, he contemplates them. Lev comes around to glance over his shoulder, reading the titles.

“I noticed you had a lot by these authors.” His favorites if I had to guess based on the amount of books on his shelves. “These are their latest releases. ”

They’re history books, something I’d find boring, but even I can admit the hardbacks are nice.

“Thank you.” His eyes shine bright.

Warmth tingles in my chest. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, picking out a gift. But when he hands one to his dad and the other to his uncle I can’t help but feel like I’ve achieved something great.

Roma and Elijah chatter about random things. Max keeps his arm around my shoulder. Yelena slips off, not that anyone cares. Irina is now arguing with both sons in Russian.

And I’m. . . I’m actually happy for the first time in a long time.