Page 41 of Sold to the Russian
She looked up at him sharply. “I’m not scared of you.”
“You’re scared of how your body reacts to me, how your mind perceives me, even though you convince yourself you hate me.”
Her jaw flexed, her cheeks flushed crimson, but she said nothing. He kept her hand there as he unbuttoned his pants, zipped down, and stepped out of them. He stepped back an inch to let her see what she’d done to him. His cock was a steel rodbetween his legs, his breathing heavier now, the heat in the room heavy like a thundercloud about to break.
Fedya caught her eyes flicking down before she could stop herself. It was a brief moment of indulgence, one that caused him to clench his jaw as his gaze swept over her face, taking in every flicker of emotion she tried to hide, every ripple of arousal she was trying to deny.
Her fingers were twitching by her sides, and her nipples were diamonds shooting through her nightgown. Her cheeks were still on fire, and her eyes were screwed shut.
That, more than anything else, ignited him.
“Hate me all you want,zhena,” he said, a wicked edge to his voice now. “But don’t lie to yourself about what you want, what this is, what you feel.”
Her eyes snapped open just in time for him to turn around, heading straight for the bathroom.
Chapter 14 - Maeve
The moment the bathroom door slammed close behind him, Maeve pressed a trembling hand to her lips and closed her eyes like they hurt. Maybe they did. They had to be after seeing him—the whole of him—just right there, staring back at her.
Of course, he had an impressive cock. Of course, he was big and thick and long enough to make her wonder if he’d fit inside her. She’d never thought a penis could be beautiful till she saw his raging erection, the veins that snaked around his shaft, the round engorged head.
He was unapologetically hard for her and made her a witness to it. To what she did to him.
God, she was so turned on it was a miracle she could see straight. She’d never been so thirsty for a man, so goddamned needy. Her breasts felt heavy, her puckered nipples ached for something—his mouth, his fingers, anything at all. Her skin felt hot to the touch. Her cunt was slick with heat, her clit throbbing with a hunger only he could satiate.
The rush of the shower filled the space around her from the bathroom. Maeve collapsed onto the bed, nearly suffocating herself with the pillows as she scolded herself for feeling this way. But it had reached a point where she was no longer in control of it, of her physical desires for him. She had acknowledged it already, and there was no point in pretending they didn’t exist.
But she couldn’t let them distract any further than they already had.
At least one thing was clear from all of this—her husband was as attracted to her as she was to him. Now that she thought about it, she realized the attraction had always been there. Ithad been in his eyes on the first day she saw him, while he was still posing as Jonathan Riley. He had stared at her that day as if he’d never seen a woman before, and Maeve remembered just how disgusted she had felt by it. But then he shed his disguise on their wedding night, and regardless of the fear, uncertainty, and hate she felt towards him, there was no denying his good looks, the distracting dimples on his cheeks when his smile was broad, his perfect teeth, and equally perfect features.
And then it happened—the seeds of an idea blooming into a full plan within the twinkle of an eye. She was sitting up now, wheels churning in her head as her brain came up with a plan that looked a little too close to perfect.
Seduction was basically the easiest trick in the book.
She’d use his attraction towards her to her advantage, and she’d seduce him into giving her whatever information he might have about the Bratva’s plans for Aleksander. As easy as it sounded, it was the riskiest thing her brain had ever come up with.
There was no denying how smart Fedya was. He was cunning and easily saw through her bullshit, especially when she wasn’t strong enough to pull herself together as quickly as possible. Not to mention that it was detrimental to her as well, since she wasn’t a rock. She was attracted to him as well, so a game of seduction was a dangerous game.
Yet, it seemed like the most feasible way to get whatever information her father might need from him. And she could still be selfish enough to have fun with it, couldn’t she? She could seduce him to the satisfaction of her own pleasure and still get whatever she needed from him.
Maeve felt wicked. The thought of using him made her feel guilty, but she pushed it to the farthest parts of her mind,choosing to focus solely on the task ahead of her. They lived in a cruel world anyway. At some point in everyone’s lives, they would be used by someone or something. Fedya just happened to be her victim.
Or you, his.
She shook her stupid subconscious away and rolled over on the bed, occupying a space on the right side of the bed. She cleared her throat as soon as she heard the shower go off and curled to her side, pretending to sleep.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing easy, but her ears were alert, picking up every sound of his footsteps like signals as he stepped out of the bathroom. She listened to the rhythmic padding of his feet against the hardwood floor, the shuffle of clothes, the scrubbing of a towel over damp hair.
Her body stiffened unconsciously when his footsteps grew closer, louder. She felt the dip of the mattress by her right, the fresh smell of lemon soap tingling her nose. His warmth touched her skin even without any contact between them. He climbed onto the bed, sinking next to her, and Maeve’s heart began its relentless arrhythmia.
She wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing, but he felt close, really close. Incredibly warm too, and it was becoming harder to pretend she was fast asleep.
The silence between them was heavy and thick, and for a second, Maeve was convinced he’d fallen asleep. She was just about to risk opening her eyes when she heard the deep timbre of his voice like a kiss on her skin.
“Why were you looking for my phone?”
Maeve’s eyes snapped open. He was staring at the ceiling, distractingly shirtless, lying on his back with one hand curledbehind his head on the pillow, emphasizing the bulge of his bicep.
