Chapter Thirty-One
Mindy
The room is deadly quiet.
Shortly after Maron forced Maurice outside, the guests picked up their stuff and left. I'm the only one sitting here, just me and my thoughts. And my embarrassment.
So, Maron and Maurice are brothers.
The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks and left my head reeling. No two people could be more different than them. It's like comparing a sleek, dangerous panther to a bumbling, unkempt house cat. The contrast is so stark it's almost comical. Especially now that I’ve seen them together. It’s like a cosmic joke, or a genetic lottery gone haywire.
Maron, with his sharp intellect, commanding presence, and air of dangerous sophistication, seems to be cut from an entirely different cloth than my ex. Where Maron exudes power and control, Maurice... well, he seems more like a lost puppy.
I understand that about Maurice now. Too bad I didn’t understand that when I was with him. In my defense, he hid it quite well. I never even realized he had alcohol and gambling problems until recently.
But none of that is helping the situation. As I sit here in the aftermath of my ex-boyfriend’s drunken tantrum, I can't help but wonder; how on earth did I end up caught between Maron and him? The only reasonable explanation I can find is that it's another twisted joke of fate.
The door creaks open and Maron’s robust form enters. He walks over, settling down next to me without saying a word. The silence between us feels heavy and oppressive.
"Is there something you’d like to say?" I finally ask, turning to look at him.
He lets out a weary sigh, rubbing his face with his hand. "That was my brother, completely drunk and out of control," he replies. Frustration and tension are evident in his voice. "Sorry for not telling you that we’re related, Mindy. I was going to do it later. But I didn’t want you to be caught up in our family drama."
“Did you know?” I ask, steeling myself for what I'm about to say. "Did you know that Maurice and I used to be together? That we broke up shortly before you and I started dating?" I whisper, watching his face carefully for a reaction.
To my surprise, Maron nods. "I did," he says quietly. "And I know those photos you sent were meant for him. Except he never saw them."
My eyes widen in shock. "So, you knew? This whole time, you knew about my relationship with him and you never said a word?"
He seems to hesitate. I never saw Maron hesitate before. "Well," he starts, “I didn’t know the details. But I knew more than I let you in on." He pauses and looks at me. "Maurice and I were barely in contact until recently. I knew he had a girlfriend but I didn't realize it was you. Until I saw those photos."
I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. "I had no idea you two were brothers. You’re like polar opposites."
"We're half-brothers," Maron corrects, his voice softening. "Maurice was only a toddler when his mother passed away. Then, our father married my mother, and they had me, followed by Timofey."
"So, Maurice was the 'third one'," I comment. “The sore thumb.”
Maron nods, searching my gaze. "My mother loved all three of us equally. But Maurice always felt that he had no place in the family. And he would never fail to bring that up and blame me for it."
My thoughts suddenly drift to my own sister, Alexis. Being blamed is something I know a thing or two about.
“What else are you not telling me, Maron?” I ask, deciding to change the subject. “First you turn out to be the head of the Bratva and now this? What else are you going to throw at me?”
He stares back at me, with an unfamiliar tenderness in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would recognize it as caring. But at this point, I don’t even know if I should believe my own senses. What I do know is that I can’t be with a man who keeps secrets from me, no matter how much we’re attracted to each other. Sexual chemistry can’t be the only foundation of a relationship.
Maron continues to keep his gaze on me, his expression sincere. “I hold no more secrets,” he says. “But there is a lot you don’t know about me yet.” He’s searching my eyes like he’s preparing himself for whatever I’m about to ask him next.
“Then tell me what I don’t know,” I fire back. My voice comes out more demanding than I intended.
Maron stares at me for what seems like an eternity. A long silence stretches between us until he finally nods. “Fine. Where do you want to start?”
“Help me understand what happened here tonight,” I demand.
Seeing that I’m not backing off, he sighs and looks down at his feet. It’s as if he’s contemplating where to start. I wait, giving him the time he needs to gather his thoughts despite the fact that I’m growing impatient. I’ve had enough of all the secrets and the drama. It’s all I’ve been dealing with lately and the last thing I want right now is to be with a man who’s hiding something from me. Maybe I am acting like a demanding bitch right now, but I need to stand up for myself. If we’re going to have a relationship, I need to understand the man I’m dating.
Maron reaches out to hold my hand and there’s an unspoken emotion in his eyes. I can tell he has something heavy on his mind. After a deep breath, he begins talking. "You’re right. Maurice was the ‘sore thumb’ in the family. After our dad died, he started having problems. Got caught up in drugs, gambling, and blowing his inheritance on parties and booze. Meanwhile, I used my share to start Global Media."
I shake my head in disbelief. How could I have been so blind about Maurice? How was he able to hide his addictive patterns from me during our time together? “Your dedication to shitty dates is admirable, Mindy,” Betty’s words echo in my mind. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m intently keeping myself blind because I’m afraid to be alone.
Maron shrugs and continues. "Look, I always tried my best to be there for Maurice. But instead of accepting my help, he constantly wanted to fight. Eventually, our relationship became this vicious cycle. He'd blow all his money on booze and then come crawling back to me for help. I wanted to support him, but it always ended up with me being the bad guy. So, in the end, I said screw it and walked away. We didn’t talk for years. That’s when he met you."
I raise an eyebrow. "He seemed relatively well put together when we were dating."
Maron shakes his head. "Maybe he was at the time. He was living on the money I gave him before we stopped talking. But in the end, his wallet started getting thinner, and he had to face the music. And instead of taking responsibility like an adult, he ended up in Marble Monkey.”
As I watch the hard, rugged lines of Maron’s face and the fierce look in his eyes, I can’t help but notice the change in his demeanor as he talks about his brother. I see a whole different side to him - one filled with genuine sadness. Just like when he was talking about his late daughter. How can a man like him care so deeply about someone like my ex?
"I recently hired Maurice, to work with me," Maron continues. "I made him an important member of my team and to my surprise, he's done a good job so far. The man has brains, just doesn’t know how to use it sometimes."
Alexis crosses my mind again. My once bright and beautiful sister, who is now wasting away. "Addiction is a bitch. And sibling relationships aren’t exactly easy." I pause before adding, "I have experience."
“Do you?” Maron asks, trying to read my expression.
I let the silence stretch between us and decide not to go into it. At least not now. Instead of responding to his question, I ask, "So, now what? Is this whole situation going to cause tension between you two?"
Maron looks confused. "What situation?"
"Well... us. You and me. Maurice and I ended things not long before you and I started dating. And it all started with those accidental nudes sent to you instead of him..."
"Leave Maurice to me," Maron reassures me. "As for you and me, we met while working together. It has nothing to do with my brother. And those nudes..." He pulls me close. "Thank God for that mistake."
I allow him to hold me for a minute or two. I'm not sure who leans in first. Probably me.
Our lips meet in a gentle, soft embrace that quickly turns passionate and needy. In a moment, we both know what we need. For the first time, our kiss truly feels like an attempt for both of us to seek comfort and reassurance in each other. Despite my previous doubts, it feels true. Genuine. Like I matter to him. Like he cares. For the first time in my life, I feel like this relationship is far more than just another one of my desperate attempts to seek comfort and safety in one of my shitty dates. This man wants me close to him just as much as I want him close to me.
And what a man he is.
Big, strong, and gorgeous.
With a libido to match mine.
In one fluid motion, he hoists me over his shoulder and strides up the hallway. My head spins as I watch the corridor turn upside down as he takes me up the stairs. When we reach the bedroom, he kicks the door open and carries me to the bed. He then lowers me slowly, his hot breath warming my neck.
His lips crash onto mine once again, this time with an even more fierce hunger. Our tongues battle for dominance. "Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are, lisichka ?" he murmurs between kisses.
I gasp as his hands trace down my body, unzipping my dress and tossing it to the floor. I’m pulled up from the bed and I stand before him in nothing but my bright red lace underwear. I feel his dark gaze burning my skin, devouring me hungrily. And I allow myself to revel in the seductive thrill of it all.
He moves in, his rough tongue grazing my bare shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. I know I can't resist him any longer.
"Tell me what you want," he growls in a low voice, his lips brushing against my own.
"You," I gasp, unable to control the heat coursing through my body.
He takes me in his arms, lifting me up against his hard body. "Tell me more."
"I want all of you," I moan, wrapping my leg around his waist.
He stops and pulls away from me, and in one swift motion, he removes my bra and captures my erect nipple in between his teeth. I cry out in pleasure and pain as he expertly works his way around my breasts. His hands slide down to my panties, and with one hand supporting me, he uses the other to explore my wet sex.
I feel myself being consumed by sheer ecstasy as he fingers me forcefully, without restraint. Our bodies move in a primal rhythm, our skin slapping together. As he gazes into my eyes, unleashing his dark desires upon me, I realize once again: Maron Korolev is no average man. He may not be right for me in any conventional sense, but our connection is something I’ve never experienced before. In this moment of passion, it would be wrong to deny any of it.
"Mindy,"he growls hungrily, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "You have no idea how much I want you."
Before I know it, his teeth are sinking into my flesh, marking me as his. I gasp in the exhilarating mix of pleasure and pain, surrendering to him completely. He then tosses me onto the bed like a rag doll, positioning me with my legs over his shoulders. My body trembles in anticipation. He falls back onto his knees, hungrily tracing the tip of his throbbing cock through my slick folds. I gasp as he rubs it against my sensitive clit, sending waves of pleasure up and down my spine. His cock teases my swollen clit, driving me closer to the edge already.
My body craves release, but I bite my lip to hold it back. He begs for entry, and I feel my body giving him way. With a slow, almost torturous push, he enters me and our bodies become one. He grips my legs and plunges deeper, causing me to moan in ecstasy.
"Maron," I call out his name, desperate for more. It only urges him to plow harder into me. "Aahhh," I cry out. "You're… so big… Maron!"
He thrusts my legs up higher, penetrating so deep into me that I begin to see stars. We are both panting, letting out guttural moans of pleasure.
" Bozhe moy, lisichka ," he growls in my ear. "Do you feel how deep I am?"
"Yes," I pant. “Fuck… yes, Maron!”
"Do you know…" thrust, "how many times…" thrust, "you made me come…" thrust, "thinking about your…” thrust, “perfect, creamy cunt?" He bites down hard on my ear. "I want to fuck you hard and come inside you over and over again."
My eyes find the mirror on the wall, and I watch our bodies move together in a primal dance of lust. Maron's muscular thighs are spread wide, his dark skin glistening with sweat. The sight is a sensory overload, and I cry out as waves and waves of pleasure crash over me.
He smirks as he pounds into me. "Squeeze me," he pants, thrusting even harder and faster.
Our eyes lock in an intense gaze as I comply, clenching around him with almost all of my strength. His lip curls in appreciation and he urges me on. "Harder." I squeeze tighter, feeling the power behind my actions send tingles throughout my body and down to my core, until we both reach our peak. I feel myself spasm around his cock, my muscles begin to tense, and my vision darkens. The force at which he releases his load almost hurts. A thousand little explosions go off in front of me, like an impressive show of fireworks. My entire body is shaking from my orgasm, making me lose my grip on reality for what seems like an eternity. The next thing my mind can comprehend is Maron’s hands dropping to the bed as he as he grunts, coming down from his own high.
Holy freaking shit!
Sex with Maron is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. We lay there for a while, just enjoying each other presence. Eventually, it is Maron who breaks the silence.
"Did you bring the toy?" he asks.
I nod, then reach over to my bag. "Let's christen it."
"I agree." He smirks, placing a few gentle kisses on my belly. My tits perk up at the sudden impulse, and I can feel my pussy getting wet again. Mere minutes after my last orgasm, I’m all ready for him.
Maron grips the pulsating vibrator, and holds it against my swollen folds, massaging my clit in slow circles. The first jolts of pleasure move through my body like electricity. In less than two minutes, I can feel my orgasm starting to build until I'm on the brink of ecstasy once again.
Maron understands me without words and knows how to pick the right moment. With expert precision, he presses the toy against the right spot, igniting a fiery explosion of pleasure.
"Shit, shit, shit... Maron!" I cry out, succumbing to the intense sensation coursing through me.
"Cum for me, baby," he commands with desire in his eyes, watching me as I have yet another mind-blowing, squirting orgasm.
My thighs are shaking out of control as my juices shoot all over the bedsheet, and Maron’s bare chest. I’m certain that Maron’s cleaners will know exactly what went down here, but I don’t care. My entire body is washed away by the force of my climax until the only thing left of me is a whirling mass of ecstasy.
“Oh my God,” I pant, burying my damp face in Maron’s chest. “I can’t… This was…” I blabber.
Maron's strong arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to his chiseled body. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers, "Stay in my house, Mindy." His deep, voice sends a shiver down my spine, making me melt into his touch like butter. "Stay here with me."
I start to protest, "But I-"
"We have a contract, remember?" He says gently. "The safest way to honor that is for you to stay here, under my protection."
I'm not in the mood to ask who or what I need protection from and why. I just want to enjoy Maron's warm body, his muscles, his soft and trimmed pubic hair, and his rugged scent.
Betty comes to mind, and I feel a twinge of sadness. If I move in with Maron, I won't see her as often. No more casual midnight chats and gossip sessions. We won't be calling each other for backup on disastrous dates. I already miss her. But I guess I can still visit her, maybe even sleep over. It’s not like I’m locking myself in a prison.
"And what am I supposed to do while I live?" I inquire.
"Well, technically you are still under the employment of Global Media," he responds, tracing patterns on my exposed skin with his fingers.
"Oh, really?"
"No need for you to come into the office. You can work from your new home."
"Doing what?"
He turns towards me. "Mindy, listen. I am going to need your financial expertise very soon. You are the only one I can trust with this task."
I furrow my brow, my curiosity piqued. "With what task?"
A mischievous smile appears on his lips. "We’re launching a new product soon. Something called Tramoxine."
"Sounds like a medicine."
"Exactly." He smirks. "It's the medicine of the future."
My eyes widen in surprise. "Since when is Global Media involved in the pharmaceutical industry?"
"Since I realized I have a diamond in my hand," he says. His hand moves to caress my breasts. "I'll explain everything later," he murmurs. "But let’s get some rest, first. It's been a long day."