“I know. I should have realized—”
“Hey, why do you sound embarrassed?”
She bit her lip. “I’ve only been a part of your lives for a short time. I shouldn’t have made out like you were incomplete without me, you know?”
His laughter was joyous; so, even though it kind of hurt he was laughing, the sound was so inoffensive, she just had to stare at him in confusion.
“Sweetheart, we were incomplete without you.” The gentle sweetness to his words had her blushing.
“I love you, Sean.”
He smiled. “I love you too, Sascha.”
Then, because things were suddenly feeling pretty heavy and that hadn’t been her intention at all, she murmured, “Want to go fuck in a dressing room?”
His eyes lit up. “That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.”
Chapter Twelve
Laughter spilled from her lips as Andrei tugged her out of the hotel.
They were at the Ritz. The old world grandeur, even hours later, still had the power to stun her.
Its Art Deco charm and elegance reminded her of Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey. It was like, when you stepped into its hallowed walls, you were transported back to a time when London was more than just Europe’s banking center, but the center of the Empire.
“Why are we rushing?” she asked, gasping a little as Andrei pulled her along behind him.
With the doormen having lifted their hat to her, she knew they’d be watching them as they rushed ahead—the last thing she needed was a witness to her falling on her ass in these heels.
Heels, Sean had picked for her, then, which she’d dug into his ass as he fucked her against a cubicle mirror.
Cheeks heating at the memory, she tugged Andrei’s hand. “Andrei! I can’t run in these shoes!”
He paused, jerked them to a halt. She laughed when he pushed her against the wall and put his mouth on hers. His hands came up to cup her face, and she felt her hair tumble out of its gravity-defying topknot and fall between his fingers.
She liked this position. Liked being shoved up against walls as their cocks burrowed into her stomach, their hips pinning her in place.
When Sean had dragged her into the changing room only four days before, she’d mewled with disappointment when he’d expected her to ride him as he sat on the chair within the cubicle.
Because the dressing rooms in the stores he took her to, were as unlike anything found in a regular department store as margarine was to butter.
The space had been as large as her bathroom. With a fancy cheval mirror at all the corners of the room so she could see the different angles of the dress.
She wasn’t sure why there was an armchair in there, unless the assistants were used to men coming in and fucking their women in them…
Who knew, maybe that was standard practice in posh retail?
She smoothed her hands up Andrei’s tuxedo-covered spine and dug her fingers into his ass.
“Is this why you dragged me out of there?” she demanded a second later when he let her up for air.
Her lips were bruised from his rough passion, but she loved it. Loved it when they all let loose and didn’t worry about her sensitivity. They just unleashed themselves on her.
When Sean had pushed her against the wall, her face against it, she’d loved having him behind her, her back and his chest almost glued together as he fumbled to penetrate her.
He’d been deep at that angle. Had fucked her with short, blunt thrusts that had her eyes clenching tightly shut and nails digging into his hands which, once he was fucking her, he bridged with hers and pinned them to the wall beside her shoulders.
She’d loved the crass words that had spilled from his lips. Had loved the feel of him inside her as he claimed her, roughly.
Because that’s how it felt. Each and every time. Like they were claiming her. Individually and as a group. And she fucking loved it.
Needed it, even.
She moaned as Andrei broke into her thoughts by nipping her bottom lip. “It was as boring as I told you it would be, wasn’t it?”
She blinked. “Huh? You mean the kiss? Hell no.”
His lips curved. “I didn’t mean the kiss. I meant the gala. But it’s good to know my kisses don’t incite snores.”
She snorted. “Oh, you mean the event. Yeah, it was kind of dry. Worth it to see you standing up there though, all gorgeous in your tux.” She ran her nails along his back, loving the texture of the silk against them. “And your speech wasn’t dull.”
“It was. I tried not to make it too bland for you, though. Not sure how well it worked. I don’t want you to dread coming to these things.”
His admission had her arching her hips, nudging his cock as she did. “You could never bore me. I don’t necessarily understand what the hell it is you’re talking about, but that’s neither here nor there.” That he wanted her to come with him again, meant the world.
He laughed. “True.” Bowing his head, he pressed a gentler kiss to her lips and slithered his tongue along the bottom one.
“I was standing up at that podium, bored out of my brain, just thinking about getting you out of this dress. Sean’s the devil sometimes. He knows exactly what gets me hard.”
She cocked a brow. “How does he?”
Andrei squeezed her hands in his. “Fishing?”
“Only for clues,” she retorted, but she was teasing.
“We all know what gets each other hot. It’s like knowing Sawyer hates porridge but eats it four times a week. Or that Devon goes through paper like he’s feeding it into a fire.”
“Oh hell no. There’s a major difference between knowing preferences when it comes to food and when it comes to a sexual partner’s wardrobe.”
He grinned. “Bull. Devon prefers nudity.”
“That comes as no shock,” she retorted. “Not after I find out he likes wandering around butt naked.”
“He told me you encouraged him to start up again.” Andrei rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many members of staff we’ve lost because of that? We only just started keeping him in jeans.”
She laughed. “Well, they were all prudes. I, for one, can’t wait for him to revert to type.”
He grimaced. “Sawyer likes casual clothes. This kind of gear will get him hot, but he prefers…” Andrei pursed his lips. “You know when we were in the kitchen?”
“And he spanked me with a spoon?” She chuckled. “Yeah. I remember.”
“Well. That’s his style. Impromptu. Spontaneous. Clothes don’t do it for him for that reason.”
“What about Sean? What does he like?”
“Want pointers?” Andrei joked, but didn’t wait for her to reply. “He likes your usual style actually. Skirts. He’s definitely a skirt man. But he also likes a bit of danger. More than most of us.”
She smirked. “You mean he likes to fuck in public?” Like she hadn’t known that already.
Andrei shrugged. “Yeah. Nothing too crazy though.”
Just changing rooms, she thought. That kind of thing. Then, made a mental note to make out with him in her Caddy at some time in the future.
They could spread out on the backseat and make out old-school style.
A prospect that had her already damp thong getting a hell of a lot damper.
“What about Kurt?”
“Aside from the watching?” She nodded. “I guess if you wear lingerie, he’ll follow you around like a puppy dog for life.”
Sascha’s laugh was husky. “That’s not nice.”
He grinned. “Maybe not, but true. He already loves that you let him watch.”
She shrugged. “It’s hot.”
“You’re perfect for us,” he breathed against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth and stroking it with his own.
When she was breathing hard, he murmured, “Then, there’s me. I love this get up.”
She wore a red sheath dress that would have made Marilyn Monroe a very happy bunny.
The sweetheart neckline was low, so low, she feared for her nipples. But hell, she felt sexy. Especially with the elbow-length white gloves and strappy silver shoes.
Earlier that evening, Kurt had placed a wrap on her shoulders and had kissed her from shoulder to the top of her glove, declaring her to be: “Perfection.”
She smiled at the memory, then smiled harder when she thought how Devon had laid back on her bed, eating an apple, as he watched her struggle into the skintight gown.
He hadn’t offered to help. Had simply said, “Pretend I’m not here.”
It seemed Devon liked watching, too.
She panted against Andrei’s lips when he pulled back. “Take me home,” she murmured, arching against him. “I want you.”
“Not yet. I have a surprise for you.”
She blinked. “You do?” Then, a tad more suspiciously, asked, “What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll love it,” he promised her, finally letting her up and tugging her onto her feet so she could balance in the high heels.
“Is that why we’re rushing?”
“Why we were rushing, yes. Our kiss was a slight but very necessary detour.”
She grinned, loving that he found her so sexy in this get up that he’d just had to kiss her. He’d been remarkably restrained all night, but she’d figured, early on, that was nerves.
Though he always seemed calm and confident, she guessed even calm and confident guys got nervous at speaking in front of their peers. Only when they’d entered the gala had she actually realized how many people were attending tonight.
Christ, she didn’t mind public speaking, and even she would have been flustered.
When they reached his car, he opened the door for her and helped her into the passenger seat. Touched as always by his gentlemanly behavior, she waited for him to round the vehicle and climb in.
It was cold. But then, when wasn’t it? Even in mid-summer, the nights could be chilly. Thankfully, it hadn’t rained for a few days, so the nip in the air wasn’t enhanced by damp.
Still, when he turned the heaters on, she shivered with relief.
The amber glow of the streetlights was broken up by the bright glare of headlights, but she was nice and cozy, tucked in the car, with a classical radio station playing very smooth, very pretty pieces.
“You comfortable?” he asked after he directed them out of a nasty gridlock.
“Very,” she told him, a touch sleepily.
She’d been tired of late, more so than her workload required. As she pressed her hand to her stomach, she guessed she had a reason why.
She turned her head to look at Andrei, a sleepy smile curving her lips as she saw the stern lines of his handsome face tense up as he swore at a driver who cut him off. It wasn’t likely he was the father. But maybe he was. Did it matter? Sascha asked herself.
They’d all be the father in the end.
She bit her lip at the thought, wondering if they’d take her news with equanimity or the panic she’d had. The notion, with any other man, would have had her freaking out.
With these five, though, it wasn’t too scary. She’d have four more pairs of hands around than most women did…
Still, it was sooner than she’d have liked, but it wasn’t like she had a say in things.
“You okay?” Andrei cut her a look. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m warm, full, and content. Why wouldn’t I be quiet?”
He snorted. “You do realize most women are quiet when they’re upset about something?”
“Since when have I been most women?”
“Touché,” he told her with a grin.
“Where are we going?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
She huffed. “If you think I haven’t realized we’re going to the airport, then you’re nuts.” Hell, she’d only dropped her father off four days ago. What did he think she had? A peanut for a memory?
His grin was fleeting. “Don’t spoil it.”
“Have you packed for me?”
“Partially. A case is in the trunk. But we’ll have to buy clothes there.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s minus ten there?”
She winced. “I know Scotland is cold, but that cold?”
“Why would I take you to Glasgow? That’s for Sawyer to do.”
“I was kind of hoping Moscow wasn’t the end destination.” She grimaced. “I’d prefer somewhere warmer than here.”
He snorted. “Sorry, love, it’s definitely Moscow we’re heading for.”
“I’m going to meet your grandfather?” The notion perked her up a little. Andrei loved Vasily, so she was curious about him.
A man who, thanks to his rank, could inspire terror in everyone else, while also having the love of his grandchild… that was a man worthy of meeting.
“What am I going to wear when I get there? I’ll freeze.”
“Vasily will have a car waiting for us. He said he’d bring furs.”
She pulled a face. “Furs?”
He shrugged. “I know. It’s not very PETA but they’re kind of old school. Furs keep you warm.”
“So do fancy-schmancy down coats.”
“Okay, well, let me rephrase that. My grandfather is old-fashioned. He’d never bring anything fancy-schmancy when fur works fine. We can always buy better coats if the furs disgust you though.”
“If you’d let me in on the trip, I could have prepared for it.”
“Where would the fun in that be?”
His eagerness was so boyish that she had to chuckle. “You’re right. I’ll stop being boring.”
He winked at her. “You could never be that, love.”
From Heathrow to Sheremetyevo International airport, it was just shy of a four-hour flight. By the time they landed, it was seven AM, pitch black, and frozen.
Sascha seriously wondered if she’d ever been so cold in all her life. The clothes he’d packed into a small carry-on were, of course, insubstantial. Still in her red gown with God only knew how many hoodies on over it, she looked like a homeless person who’d been given a designer dress by a moron of a donor.
She’d traveled first class the first time in her life, and had had more orange juice than was advisable. But, aside from being bone-stirringly cold, she was a happy camper. Until a thought struck her. “Andrei? The others know I’m here, don’t they?” she asked, as he led her down the tunnel that would take them from the plane to the terminal.
“What? You think I’ve kidnapped you or something?” he asked, shooting her a grin. His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“No, dumbass,” she retorted, tugging his hand. “But… I just…” She bit her lip, and apparently the look on her face was enough to have him concerned because he tugged her out of the main flow of pedestrian traffic and to the side.
“Hey. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I just…” How did she admit that it was going to be weird not being under the same roof as them tonight? Hell, not just tonight. But for however long they were going to be in Russia.
She plucked at the zipper on her third layer of hoodies, and murmured, “I’ll miss them.”
The simple statement had his eyes widening, then his smile grew. “I know, love. But my grandfather isn’t getting any younger, and he wants to meet you. It won’t be for long. I promise.”
“No,” she argued. “It’s not that. I’d love to meet him. It’s just, they might miss me too, you know?”
“There’s no ‘might’ about it,” he replied. “They will, but yeah, they knew. And they want you to have a great time here.”
She smiled. “That’s cool. I just didn’t… they might have worried, you know? What with
everything that’s happened recently.”
He squeezed her fingers. “They’re all very happy you’re about to have a whirlwind tour of Russia’s capital.”
His words, bizarre though it may have been, were almost what she needed. It was like having been given permission to enjoy herself.
It wasn’t that she needed permission, of course. But it just lightened her load. The thought of them freaking out about her location, after what Elizabeth had put them through, well, she never wanted them to fear for her again.
Silly, but then, sometimes emotions made fools of everyone.
In her strappy heels and red dress, she’d have stuck out like a sore thumb anywhere. Especially with a man as handsome as Andrei dressed in a tux at her side. Throw in the fact they weren’t wearing the right clothes? They received a lot of funny glances, and by the time they made it through passport control, out of the luggage area, and through to the entrance of the airport, she had to stifle her giggles.
Then, she couldn’t stifle them anymore when she saw, amid the bustling crowd, a large man. Six feet, maybe closer to seven feet, tall and shrouded in furs… He looked like he was wearing a bear.
She blinked at him, then pointed at Andrei. “I’ll assume he’s our driver.”
A laugh escaped him. “You guessed right. And the little guy beside him? That’s Vasily. My dedushka.”
“Dedushka is grandfather?”
He nodded.
“Does he speak English?”
“As good as you or I.”
“That’s a relief,” she admitted quietly, then smiled as they approached the small man who, years down the line, gave her a clue as to how Andrei would age.
A garble of Russian flooded the space between the younger and the older Kirov, and Sasha stood to the side, content to let them reconnect.
She knew Andrei hadn’t been back in a long time, and from the tears tracking down Vasily’s face, the time and distance had been felt.
She swallowed, feeling the lump in her throat at the sight of such naked and raw love. It touched her, and she pressed a hand to her belly. Subconsciously telling her child that was the kind of family it was being born into.
Loved by Them: A Reverse Harem Romance (Quintessence Book 5) Page 16