Page 39 of Sold to the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #6)

Three months later

Maeve stirred in their bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, her bare skin kissed by the morning light. Her belly was just beginning to show now, a soft curve beneath her silk slip. She shifted to stretch but stilled when she felt the heat of Fedya’s hand already resting on her thigh.

He’d been watching her. Fedya lay propped up on one elbow, his eyes heavy with something darker than just desire, something worshipful, feral. He’d woken up hard, needing her.

The sight of her soft, flushed, and already damp between her thighs only sharpened it. “You’re up early,” she murmured sleepily.

“I never slept,” he said, voice thick and low. “You were moaning in your sleep again.” Her cheeks flushed. “I was not.”

“You whispered my name like you couldn’t get enough of me.” His hand skimmed upward, sliding under her slip until his palm cupped the heat between her thighs. “Let me give you what you want.”

She gasped when he rubbed two slow circles against her clit, slick and swollen, already aching. “God, you’re wet,” he groaned. “Did my girl wake up needy?” Maeve whimpered when he dragged his fingers down, teasing her folds apart. “Fedya…”

“Shh.” He rolled closer, lips brushing her ear. “You know I can’t sleep when I know you’re aching like this.” He sank two fingers inside her, slow and deliberate. Her body welcomed him instantly, tightening around the intrusion.

Her hips rolled forward, chasing more. His thumb found her clit and pressed just enough to make her cry out. “You’re so responsive,” he rasped, dragging his lips down her neck, licking the hollow of her throat. “So greedy. I love it.”

She arched into him, legs falling wider. The silk slip slid up her body, baring her breasts, which had become heavier, more sensitive since the pregnancy. Fedya’s mouth found one, sucking gently, then harder, tugging at her nipple until she gasped.

“Don’t tease me,” she whispered, hips jerking. “I’m not teasing, zhena. I’m preparing you.” He moved down her body, dragging his tongue along her stomach, pausing to kiss the swell of her bump. “You’re mine. All of you.”

When he settled between her thighs, she barely had time to inhale before his mouth closed around her clit, sucking with exquisite pressure. She cried out, threading her fingers through his hair.

“Oh! God, Fedya—” He licked her like he was starving, his tongue curling inside her before he replaced it with his fingers again, stroking her from the inside while his mouth worked her clit with relentless precision.

Her body trembled beneath him, helpless. “I want you to come for me,” he said, voice rough against her. “Give it to me.” Her orgasm hit hard, hot, and overwhelming, ripping through her like a shockwave. Her thighs clamped around his head, and her cries echoed through the room.

Fedya didn’t stop. He licked her through it, dragging out every aftershock until she was panting and half-limping. He crawled up her body, kissing her thoroughly, letting her taste herself on his lips. His cock throbbed between them, hard and leaking.

“Do you want me inside you?” he asked, voice dangerous now, possessive. She nodded eagerly, pulling him in. He lined himself up and slid in deep, inch by inch, groaning as her warmth enveloped him. “Fuck… always so tight.”

Maeve wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tilted her hips, locking her legs around him. “You’re everything,” he whispered, stroking into her slowly. “Everything I never knew I needed.” They moved together, their rhythm slow at first, then growing sharper.

Each thrust hit deeper, her body molding to his. He cradled her belly with one hand, the other braced against the headboard. He was careful, but not gentle; he knew how much she craved the edge, the overwhelming, consuming fullness of him.

He lifted her leg over his shoulder, angling deeper. Her moans turned frantic, her nails dragging down his back. “Harder,” she begged. “Please…”

“Look at you,” he growled. “So full of me.” He drove into her harder now, faster, until the bed rocked beneath them.

She sobbed his name as her body shattered again, this time harder, more intense.

He chased her over the edge, following with a hoarse groan as he spilled inside her, hips grinding as if he could push even deeper.

They stayed tangled like that, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths ragged. Fedya kissed her nose, her cheeks, her damp forehead. “Still nervous about today?” Maeve shook her head slowly. “Not with you here.”

“Good.” He pressed his hand protectively over her stomach. “Because you’re going to be the best mother these babies could ever ask for.”

Lazily. Like he couldn’t help himself. “Fedya,” she breathed, eyes fluttering open. “You feel too good,” he said, voice dark with need. “Let me stay inside you a little longer.” His hand slid over her hip, his other palm returning to her breast, cupping the fullness like he was rediscovering it.

Her nipples were flushed, still sensitive, and she gasped when he rolled one between his fingers. “I missed your body,” he said, grazing his teeth along her jaw. “You’ve been tired lately. You sleep so much. And all I want is to hold you like this. Touch you. Worship every inch of you.”

Maeve’s body responded even as her heart did. He was so overwhelming, sometimes always so sure, so in control, but here, he was soft. Reverent. “You make me feel beautiful,” she whispered. “You are,” he said fiercely. “More than ever.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time like a promise. Then, carefully, he pulled out, watching his release slip from her, catching it on his fingers and gently sliding it back in.

“You keep everything I give you,” he said roughly. “Even now.” She moaned at the filth of it—and at how much she loved him for it.

***

An hour later

“Everything looks great,” Doctor Fen nodded, his eyes fixed on the screen. He glided the ultrasound wand across Maeve’s small bump. “Very strong, healthy heartbeats.”

Fedya squinted his eyes on the monitor as the soft, rapid sounds of his baby’s heartbeats filled the room.

They’d spent nights arguing over baby names and concluded they were too eager to find out the sex of their baby.

So here they were, Fedya standing and staring at the monitor like he could make out anything while Maeve lay on the bed, staring at the gel on her stomach.

“Well,” Fen said with a slight chuckle, “I hope you two like surprises.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

They said at the same time, the latter response belonged to Fedya.

Maeve leaned up slightly, biting her lip in anticipation. “So what’s the surprise?”

“Twins,” Fen said, turning the monitor slightly as he tapped on the screen. “You’re having twins. One boy and one girl.”

Fedya glanced at his wife, unable to hide the excitement on his face. Maeve’s eyes were brimming with tears as she nodded, like she was tucking the information away in her heart. She had been crying a lot these days, and now, still trying not to cry, she pointed in the direction of Fedya’s hips.

“He’s really good at what he does.”

“Alright, that will be all for now,” Fedya grinned, choosing to ignore what his wife had decided to say instead of anything else. “She says a bunch of stuff when she’s hungry. These pregnancy cravings scare me, you know.”

Doctor Fen flushed. “Congratulations. I’ll print out the pictures for you.”

“That’ll be perfect, thank you,” Maeve called from behind. Fedya turned to her, kissed her forehead, and lingered for a moment. Then he said, “You’re going to be the best mother these kids could ever dream of.”

“Great,” she managed through a croak as he proceeded to clean and dress her up. “You’re just going to make me cry. Again .”

Fedya kissed her again and again and again, until she was laughing against his mouth and pushing him away. He shifted slightly when he got a text notification from his phone and smiled to himself as he read the message.

All ready. She’s going to love it.

From Margot.

After everything that had happened with Aleksander and the Irish, Maeve had made Fedya promise her that he would keep Margot safe.

So he did as she asked, quietly relocating her to a secure residence under Nikolai's protection, her new life as peaceful as it was comfortable. The unfortunate incident with Cormac had permanently ripped away her ability to speak. It wasn’t the most convenient lifestyle, but it was better than working under the Butcher.

“You ready to go?” Fedya asked as Maeve came out of the exam room, cradling the black and white pictures to her chest.

“I’m so hungry,” she said, still staring at the pictures as he led her out of the hospital. “I could kill for a blini right now.” She rubbed circles over her stomach. “Do you think they’d love a blini too? I’ve had to eat a lot, though, since there are two of them there.”

“You can have as many blini as you want, zhena ,” he said as he opened the car door for her. “You’re pretty damn good at making them yourself these days.”

“I learned from the best.”

Fedya drove away from the hospital, trying and failing to hold himself together as he drove towards the beach instead of their home.

Maybe he hated surprises because he barely knew how to keep them.

This was the longest he’d gone without keeping a secret surprise from someone.

He’d been planning this with Margot for a while now—the perfect wedding, just for Maeve and him and their family.

She’d often voiced out how much she wished their wedding had been different. How she wished she’d met him under different circumstances. She’d talked about her dream wedding even in her sleep, describing what she’d love it to look like.

Their marriage had been far from ideal anyway. There was barely a wedding. But he wanted to give her that perfect moment she craved, the one she longed for whenever she stared at her ring.

He took her to a beach he’d rented out for her, and he was satisfied when he watched her eyes light up at the scene in front of them.

Soft lights glowed along the sand, strung between wooden posts and white fabric that billowed in the wind.

Pink flower petals were scattered on the ground, alluring with the orange and pink colors of dusk that streaked across the sky.

A small group stood beneath the archway—their family.

His cousins and their wives, his siblings, and his sister-in-law.

A priest stood with them, waiting, beaming with a Bible between his hands.

“I hope this is everything you wanted, Maeve,” Fedya said, his voice low as he dropped on one knee in the sand in front of her. He pulled out yet another new ring from his pocket, a symbol of true love and devotion rather than an alliance forced by her father.

“I want you to marry me all over again, Maeve,” he said seriously as he looked up at her.

His voice was raw and full of feeling. “I want you to marry me for real this time, because you want to. I want you to spend the rest of your life with me, as my wife and the mother of my children. I’ll beg you if I have to. ”

“This is your last chance,” she said, her lips trembling as she accepted the ring and slid it over her finger. It sat right on top of the former one he’d given her. “If you make me cry again, I’ll actually get mad at you.”

Fedya grinned and gave a thumbs-up to his spectating family ahead. Their cheers were loud and happy as he stood, pulled her towards him, and kissed her like he’d never get the opportunity to again.

He went on his knees again, kissed her stomach twice, and murmured against it, “Our children are going to know nothing but love. Just love, always love.”

Maeve dragged her knuckles over her eyes and nodded in agreement, sliding her fingers through his as he led her down the aisle.

“Just love. Always, always love.”

*****

THE END