Chapter 27 Alexei
Alexei
The sound of music jolts me out of sleep. I sit up fast, my heart pounding against my ribs. I glance around the room. Kelly’s not in bed anymore.
I rub a hand down my face and listen to the music drifting through the house. I narrow my eyes. Is that … the Spice Girls? His playlist is a complete disaster, but I’ll keep that opinion to myself. If it makes him happy, fine.
I drag myself out of bed and follow the sound, which gets louder the closer I get to the kitchen. Something smells burnt, and yeah, that’s definitely the Spice Girls blasting through the speakers.
I stop in the doorway and spot Kelly humming while whisking something in a bowl, completely oblivious to my presence. My eyes drop to his pink socks with rabbits on them. I’m going to have to add those to my growing collection of his things.
I walk over to him and reach out and touch his shoulder.
He jumps like I tased him and smacks my hand away. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I walk over to the speaker and turn it off, then point to the pan on the stove. “Something’s burning.”
He turns around fast, swears under his breath, and flips the stove off. “I was trying to surprise you with pancakes. It’s what my mom used to do when I was sad.”
He moves the pan to the sink and runs water over it. The sizzle is violent and loud enough to make me wince. He leans forward and rests his forehead on the counter with his arms crossed over his head, letting out a long groan that sounds defeated.
Then he turns and scrunches his nose at me. “I’m really bad at cooking.”
“I am aware.”
He shoots me a look. “Thanks for the support.”
“I’m not going to lie and tell you you’re good at this. You’re not.”
He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, we’ve got two pancakes that aren’t burned. I was kind of hoping we could take a walk after? Just to clear our heads a bit?”
I glance out the window at the gray sky and bare trees. It looks miserable out there, windy and cold as hell.
“No,” I say flatly. “But I can fuck you so hard you can’t walk, then we eat those two sad pancakes.”
He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, then closes it again. I don’t wait for a response. I walk over and lift him up over my shoulder, smacking his ass once to make him yelp.
I carry him to the kitchen island and set him down gently with my hands still around his hips, then lean in and crash my mouth to his. He tastes like cinnamon and pancake batter.
“It’s so sexy when you carry me around,” he murmurs against my lips.
I don’t answer with words. I kiss him again, slower this time, deeper, just so he’ll feel what I can’t say out loud. That I need this. That I need him. That I need to forget everything else for a while.
I feel his hands grab at my shirt. I want to bury myself in him until I forget the look on my father’s face, until none of it matters except this.
I swirl my tongue against his and pull him tight into me. Not letting him breathe properly. My mouth drags down his neck slowly with my teeth scraping against his skin. I suck hard just below his jaw to leave a mark.
I tug his shirt up and over his head, dropping it somewhere on the floor, then grab him by the waist with my grip rough and possessive.
“On your hands and knees,” I mutter against his throat.
“Here?” His voice comes out breathless.
“Da.”
He hesitates for just a second, then climbs up like I told him to. His knees pressed into the edge of the counter and his arms braced in front of him. His back arches just enough to make me lose my breath completely.
I grab his waistband and drag everything down in one motion, my grip tightening while I take in the sight of him.
Fucking perfect.
He’s bent forward, flushed, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache. I lean in and kiss along his lower back, slow and rough, then down between his thighs, hands gripping hard to keep him close when he twitches.
He gasps when I get my mouth on him.
I hold him tighter and keep going, tongue working deep, slow, wet around his hole. He jerks forward. I pull him back and hold him there, keep my mouth on him until his legs start shaking.
“Alexei, you’re—” he pants, one hand curling against the marble.
I press in deeper, let him feel it. One hand slides between his legs and I push in slow, careful, until he moans so broken it almost undoes me.
When I pull back and let go, his whole body jolts.
“Turn around,” I mutter, voice low.
He glances over his shoulder, face red, lips parted, eyes blown wide. Then he nods.
I walk over to the kitchen cabinet and pull out a brand-new bottle of lube.
“Why do you have lube in your kitchen cabinet?”
I shrug, walking back to him. “I put them everywhere so I can have you on every surface in this house.”
I crash my lips to his and push my tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around with his own. I pour some lube onto my fingers, bring my hands down past his balls, down his taint and inside of him. He gasps into my mouth while I work him open. First with one, then two, then work myself up to three.
I pull them out of him, then unbutton my jeans while keeping eye contact with him. Pulling my hard, aching cock out, he licks his lips, looking down at my length and then looks back up into my eyes. Putting the leftover lube onto myself, I pull him by his hips and position myself by his hole.
Looking up at him, he nods at me, and I push myself inside him slowly. He’s so tight, stretching around me. He gasps and grabs the counter at the edges and tilts his head back, his throat bobbing.
I push myself fully inside. He looks up at me with pure need and hunger. The feeling is incredible—his warmth and tightness make me close my eyes and groan.
Grabbing his hips harder, I start thrusting into him, the sound echoing around the room. “You are taking me so fucking well. Look at you stretching around me.”
My hand moves from his hip to reach for his cock. He moans at the contact. I swipe my finger over his tip, pre-cum leaks all over my hand, warm and messy against my palm while I work him over. Moans slipping out of him while I thrust.
My balls start filling with tightness. “You’re going to make me lose it, zaychik. You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. I need to fill you up.”
Thrusting into him harder, I drop my head to his shoulder and shudder, spilling inside of him while still gripping his hard cock.
Pulling out immediately, I push my fingers inside instead, keeping my cum where it belongs, then bend down and take his cock into my mouth.
Tongue out, cheeks hollowed, I take him deep into my throat while his hands slide into my hair with a tight grip, moaning loudly.
“So close. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Alexei.” The desperation in his voice is perfect.
His cock swells across my tongue before warm, salty cum fills my mouth. I swallow every drop like a starved man, tongue working over him greedily, cleaning him until there’s nothing left. He’s shaking and spent, but I keep him in my mouth because he doesn’t get to tell me when I’m done.
“Kakogo huya?” What the fuck?
I lift my head and spot Mikhail and Daniil standing right in the middle of the living room with both of their mouths hanging open. Mikhail spins around and slaps his hands over his eyes while Daniil just stands there grimacing.
“Blyat, I did not need to see that,” Mikhail groans loudly. “I need bleach for my eyes.”
Kelly buries himself against my chest so fast it almost knocks the wind out of me. I pull my fingers out of him and wrap my arms around him and kiss the side of his head while his voice comes out muffled against my skin. “Jesus, do none of your family knock?”
I glare at my brothers over Kelly’s head. “What are you doing here?”
Mikhail walks backward toward the hallway with his hands still covering his face. “No words until you’re dressed. I mean it. I need therapy and a lobotomy to erase this image out of my fucking brain, dude. We’ll be anywhere else. Jesus Christ, put your junk back into your pants.”
Daniil freezes for another second, then blinks and spins around fast, shaking his head.
I help Kelly down from the counter, keeping my hand on his waist as he pulls his clothes on with shaking hands. I yank my pants up and buckle myself.
“I’m going to take a shower. You’re on your own with this,” Kelly says, jerking his chin toward the bathroom.
I nod and sigh as he disappears down the hallway before I stalk after my two idiot brothers.
I find them in the home gym. Mikhail pacing like a caged dog, rubbing his hands through his buzz cut and muttering to himself. Daniil’s half-seated on the edge of the weights bench with his face covered by his hand, and his shoulders are shaking with barely contained laughter.
“Does no one fucking knock anymore, and doorbells aren’t a thing now either?” I snap.
Mikhail whirls around to face me. “I called you ten times, asshole. You weren’t answering. I thought you were dead, so I made Danya drive us here to come check on you.”
I throw my arms up. “And you still didn’t knock?”
“Trust me, I wish we did.”
He groans and rubs his buzz cut again like he’s trying to erase the memory.
Daniil’s shoulders shake harder. He’s still got his hand over his mouth trying to stop it, but he’s laughing now at the whole situation.
I glare at both of them. “I’m alive. The two of you can leave now.”
Daniil’s laughter dies down, but he’s still looking at me with obvious amusement, hand covering his mouth.
“Stop staring at me, jerk.”
“Don’t fucking talk to him like that,” Mikhail snaps and steps closer to me.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, get out of my face.”
“What did they say to you? What is our father going to do?” Mikhail pushes.
“It doesn’t matter, okay?” I throw my hands up because I’m done with this conversation. I don’t want to talk about any of it.
“Fuck, sorry for caring,” he mutters. “Mother wants Kelly to come over for Christmas.”
I blink in confusion. “We don’t celebrate Christmas. That’s an American thing.”
“No shit. She wants to throw it for him.”
“For Kelly?” I ask.
“She wants all of us there and she’s planning some dinner or whatever. But I’m not buying any of you assholes presents because none of you deserve anything.”
I narrow my eyes. “What is she planning?”
We’ve never done Christmas, not like they do here in America.
For us, it’s New Year’s that matters. That’s our celebration.
The idea of a tree and gifts and all of us sitting at a table like some Hallmark bullshit feels completely wrong.
She did call me the other day making sure we were okay and wanted to know more about Kelly. Maybe that’s why she is doing this.
Mikhail starts walking toward the door, then turns around.
“By the way, since I’m permanently scarred from what I just witnessed, you’re buying me something ridiculously expensive for this whole Christmas bullshit.
I’m talking stupidly over the top.” He pauses dramatically.
“And Danya says he wants a pony for the emotional damage you’ve caused him. ”
He flips me off casually over his shoulder as he walks out.
Daniil trails after him but stops just outside the door, turning back to give me the most exasperated head shake and eye roll before following him down the hall.
Mikhail’s been doing this since they were children, inventing absurd shit and pretending it’s what Daniil wants since he can’t call him out on it.
I shake my head and rub my jaw. I don’t know what my mother is planning for this whole Christmas circus, but I trust her.