The moment was shattered by a sudden knock at the door, sharp and urgent. "Boss..." Polina's voice called from the other side, muffled but unmistakable.
Natalya didn't even flinch. "Come in," she said, her voice smooth, unconcerned.
The door swung open, and Polina stepped inside, balancing a tray of breakfast in her hands. Her eyes flicked to Natalya first—then froze as they landed on me, Claire, and Yelena. The tray wobbled slightly in her grip, her shock written all over her face. "H-how—?" she stammered, her gaze darting between us, her mind clearly racing. How the hell did they get in here?
I could see the questions burning in her eyes, the confusion, the suspicion. She'd been trained too well to let something like this slide.
Natalya noticed it too. A small, knowing smirk tugged at her lips as she stepped forward, taking the tray from Polina's hands and setting it down on the nearby table.
"Polina," she said, her voice warm but firm, "has been worried about you, Jack." She turned to face her subordinate, her expression softening.
"She kept asking me—how long you'd be undercover with Claire. Kept checking on your injuries, your progress..." Natalya's tone carried a hint of amusement, but also something deeper—gratitude. "She's been loyal."
Polina's face flushed slightly at the praise, her fingers twisting together in front of her. "Boss, I—I just wanted to make sure he was safe," she murmured, her voice tight. But her eyes were still sharp, still wary, flicking between Claire and Yelena like she was trying to piece together a puzzle.
Natalya didn't miss it. She stepped closer, her voice dropping into something reassuring. "Don't worry about them," she said, her hand resting lightly on Polina's shoulder. "We're all together now."
Polina hesitated, her gaze lingering on Claire and Yelena for a moment longer before she finally nodded, though her posture remained tense. She set the breakfast tray down fully, her fingers brushing against the edge like she needed something to ground her.
Then, her brows furrowed. "But, Boss..." she said, her voice laced with confusion. "Isn't his name Viper? Why are you calling him Jack?"
Natalya let out a low, amused chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck as she'd just been caught in a lie. "Ah. Right," she said, her smirk deepening. "I... haven't exactly told you about him yet, have I?"
Polina's eyes widened, her body tensing like she was bracing for a revelation.
Natalya's grin turned playful. "That's a secret," she teased, her voice dripping with mischief. Then, with a laugh, she shook her head. "Maybe one day you'll find out. But for now..." She glanced at me, her eyes gleaming. "His real name is Jack."
Polina's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, her mind clearly spinning. "But—Viper is—"
"A name I used," I cut in, my voice calm but carrying the weight of finality. "For the mission. For her." I nodded toward Natalya, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Polina's gaze snapped back to Natalya, her expression a mix of shock and realization. The pieces were falling into place—slowly, but undeniably. She hadn't been kept in the dark out of distrust. It had been out of necessity. A mission. A role. A name that wasn't real.
Natalya didn't give her time to dwell on it. "We're leaving for America in a while," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Pack your things. Only what you need."
Polina's eyes widened, but she nodded sharply, her training kicking in. "Yes, Boss," she said, already turning toward the door, though her mind was clearly still racing.
An hour later, Natalya and I were in her armored SUV, her most trusted bodyguards flanking us as we drove toward the seedy motel on the outskirts of the city. The place where I'd left Victor—where I'd ordered him to stay, like the pathetic pawn he was.
We found him exactly where I'd left him—sitting on the edge of the bed, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hand, his face a mask of arrogance and ignorance. He didn't even have time to react before Natalya's men grabbed him, dragging him out of the room by his collar. His protests were cut short by the cold press of a gun to his temple.
"What the fuck—!" Victor snarled, his eyes wild with panic as he was thrown into the back of the SUV, his wrists zip-tied behind his back.
I didn't say a word. I just watched, my expression unreadable, as Natalya's men secured him, his muffled curses filling the vehicle.
Then, we drove.
Nickolai's estate loomed before us like a fortress carved from stone and steel, its towering gates swinging open as our convoy rolled to a stop. The man himself stood at the top of the grand staircase, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the setting sun. His sharp, calculating eyes locked onto the SUV the moment it came to a halt, his posture rigid, his hand resting dangerously close to the pistol holstered at his side.
The doors of the vehicle swung open.
Natalya stepped out first, her chin held high, her gaze meeting her father's without an ounce of hesitation. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was untouchable—here, at least.
I followed, my presence alone seeming to make the air thicken, the tension coiling like a snake ready to strike. Nickolai's guards tensed, their hands twitching toward their weapons as they took in the scene: Natalya, unharmed but different—like she carried a secret. And then there was me—a man whose name didn't match the face they'd been fed.
Victor was yanked out next, his arms bound behind his back, his face already bruising from the rough handling. He stumbled, his knees hitting the gravel as Natalya's men forced him to the ground in front of Nickolai. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes wide with terror as he took in the man who held his life in his hands.
Nickolai descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving Victor's pathetic form. When he finally stopped, it was just inches from where Victor knelt, his shadow swallowing the traitor whole. "Natalya," Nickolai's voice was a low, dangerous growl, "explain."
Natalya didn't blink. "This is the man who's been playing us all," she said, her voice cold, final. "He's the one who sowed discord between you and Isabella. Between us. He's been feeding you lies, manipulating the shipments, skimming off the top. He's the reason we've been losing control."
Nickolai's expression darkened, his jaw clenching so tightly I could see the muscle twitch. He crouched down, grabbing Victor by the collar and yanking him up until their faces were mere inches apart. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice a lethal whisper.
Victor's lips trembled. " I didn't have a choice—!"
Nickolai didn't let him finish.
His pistol appeared in his hand like magic, the muzzle pressing against Victor's forehead before the man could even take another breath. "You had a choice," Nickolai said, his voice a snarl, "when you decided to go against us."
BANG.
The gunshot echoed through the courtyard like a clap of thunder, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. Victor's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless before it even hit the gravel. Blood pooled beneath his head, dark and glistening in the fading light.
Nickolai didn't even glance at the corpse. He holstered his pistol with a smooth, practiced motion, his gaze snapping to me like a predator locking onto its next target.
"And you," he said, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet, "who the fuck are you?" His finger hovered over the grip of his pistol, his eyes narrowing as he took me in—every detail, every breath, every lie he sensed clinging to me like a second skin.
"Because I dug. And you know what I found?" His lips curled into a snarl, his voice dropping into something darker, something deadlier.
"There is no Victor. Your face is in the system, sure—your fingerprints, your voice, your movements—but your identity?" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "It doesn't exist."
Nickolai's hand twitched, his pistol already half-drawn, the cold metal glinting under the dim light. His voice was a blade wrapped in velvet, each word dripping with lethal intent. "So tell me, Viper—or whatever the hell your real name is—who sent you? Who do you really work for?" His eyes burned into mine, searching for cracks, for lies, for any sign of weakness. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that precedes violence—inevitable violence.
Natalya didn't let him finish.
She moved between us, her body a shield, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Dad," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument, "he's Jack."
Nickolai's gaze snapped to her, his expression darkening. "So why are you protecting him?" he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "He's been lying. Betraying us. Playing us like fools."
Natalya shook her head, her voice steady, unshaken. "Because he's my man."
That was all it took.
Something primal flickered in Nickolai's eyes—rage, possessiveness, the instinct of a father who had spent a lifetime controlling everything around him. But before he could react, I stepped forward, pulling Natalya behind me. My gaze locked onto Nickolai's, unflinching, unapologetic.
"Hello, Mr. Nickolai," I said, my voice calm but carrying the weight of a promise. "My name is Jack Reynolds." I didn't break eye contact.
"I know approaching Natalya like this doesn't seem good. But I had no other choice." My voice dropped, darker, raw.
"I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. And trust me—I had no intention of hurting her. Only protecting her." I paused, letting the words sink in. "And now? She's my woman."
Nickolai's expression twisted, his fingers tightening around the grip of his pistol. "What if I don't agree?" he snarled, his voice a warning.
I didn't hesitate. "Nothing can make me leave Natalya," I said, my voice final. "If you don't like it..." My eyes darkened, my tone turning cold. "Then I'll take her away from here."
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
Then—Nickolai laughed.
It was a deep, rumbling sound, filled with something between amusement and respect. "Kid," he said, shaking his head, "this is the first time someone has challenged me like this." His grin was sharp, predatory. "Good. Good."
He leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping over me like he was sizing up prey. "Okay," he said, his voice dropping into something deadly. "I'll give you a chance." His eyes flicked to the men standing in the shadows of the hall, their postures rigid, their hands resting on their weapons.
"I know you're a good fighter. So prove it." His voice turned cold, final. "If you can beat my men—all of them—and prove you're worthy of my daughter..." He shrugged, but his eyes were lethal. "Then I have no objection. But if you fail?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You'll be buried here."
Natalya stepped forward, her voice sharp with alarm. "Dad—!"
But Nickolai had already made a gesture with his hand.
The doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and fifty men filed in, their boots thudding against the marble floor. Each one was built like a tank, their faces scarred, their eyes cold. Professional killers. Elite fighters. The kind of men who didn't just fight—they ended people.
Natalya moved between us again, her voice urgent. "Dad, this isn't good," she said, her eyes flicking between me and the army of men now surrounding us. "Your men will be dead. It'll be difficult to find their replacements."
Nickolai chuckled, clearly shocked by his daughter's confidence in me. "You have that much confidence in him?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
Natalya didn't flinch. "He's the man I've chosen," she said, her voice steady. "He can beat all of them..." She smirked, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "With just a snap of his fingers."
Nickolai's amusement faded, replaced by something colder. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a low growl. "I'll ask my men not to beat him to death." His gaze locked onto me, challenging.
"And I'd like to see how he can beat fifty of the world's top fighters..." His smirk was mocking. "With a snap of his fingers."
If this man wasn't Natalya's father, I would've killed him already.
But he was.
And it looked like I needed to show him what I was capable of.
Natalya and Nickolai stepped to the side, taking their seats on the elevated platform like spectators at an execution. Nickolai's eyes gleamed with anticipation, his fingers tapping impatiently against the armrest. "Begin," he said, his voice a command.
Nickolai's fifty men fanned out in a loose semicircle, their postures rigid, their eyes locked onto me like wolves sizing up prey. Each of them was a killer—hardened, trained, their bodies marked with scars from countless battles.
Their knuckles cracked, their muscles coiled, ready to strike at Nickolai's command. The clink of metal against metal echoed as they drew knives, brass knuckles, and batons, their grins sharp with the anticipation of bloodshed.
Nickolai leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, his gaze never leaving mine. "Go on, then," he said, his voice a dark purr, "show me what you've got, Viper." His smirk was a challenge, a dare, the kind of expression a man wears when he's already decided you're dead.
Natalya, seated beside him, bit her lip, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair. She knew what I could do—but she'd never seen it like this. Not in front of her father. Not in a room full of men who existed to kill.
I didn't move.
I just stood there, my hands loose at my sides, my expression unreadable. The men charged.
The first wave came at me like a storm—fists flying, blades flashing, their shouts filling the air. I didn't flinch. I didn't even breathe harder.
I just lifted my hand.
A pulse of telekinetic energy ripped through the room, a shockwave of invisible force that sent the first ten men flying backward. Their bodies crashed into the marble columns, their bones cracking against the stone, their weapons clattering to the ground. The rest faltered, their momentum stuttering as they watched their comrades ragdoll through the air.
Nickolai's smirk faltered.
"What the—?" he breathed, his eyes widening as the men struggled to their feet, only to be slammed back down by another wave of my power. Their bodies skidded across the floor, their limbs twisting at unnatural angles as I crushed their resistance with a thought.
"Dad," Natalya murmured, her voice a mix of awe and amusement, "I told you."
Nickolai didn't answer. His gaze was glued to the scene unfolding before him, his mind clearly struggling to process what he was seeing.
The second wave of attackers lunged, their faces twisted with fury. One man swung a knife at my throat. I flicked my wrist, and the blade stopped midair, suspended as if caught in invisible jelly.
Then, with a twist of my fingers, the knife turned—and buried itself in the man's own shoulder. He screamed, dropping to his knees, his hand clutching the wound as blood seeped between his fingers.
Another man charged, his fist pulled back for a punch. I curled my fingers, and he froze mid-step, his body locking up like a statue. His eyes bulged with terror as I lifted him into the air, his feet kicking uselessly. With a snap of my wrist, I slammed him into the ceiling. The impact shook dust from the rafters, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap.
"This isn't possible," Nickolai muttered, his voice rough, his fingers digging into the arms of his chair. His confidence was shattering, replaced by something darker—fear, disbelief.
Natalya's chuckle was low, knowing. "Oh, it's very possible," she purred, her eyes gleaming as she watched me dismantle her father's army without breaking a sweat.
The remaining men hesitated, their bravery faltering as they realized they weren't just fighting a man—they were fighting something else. Something supernatural. One of them, bolder than the rest, pulled a gun from his waistband and fired.
The bullet stopped inches from my face.
I plucked it from the air with my mind, holding it up between my fingers for a second before crushing it into dust. The man's face drained of color. I yanked the gun from his grip with a thought, the metal bending like putty before exploding in his hand. He screamed, clutching his shattered fingers, his knees hitting the ground.
Nickolai stood up, his chair scraping back violently. "Enough!" he barked, his voice shaking with something he hadn't felt in decades—uncertainty. "What the hell are you?!"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I raised both hands, and every single one of his men lifted into the air at once. Their bodies twisted, their limbs flailing as they struggled against the unseen force. Their screams filled the hall, a chorus of terror and helplessness.
"Dad," Natalya said, her voice dripping with amusement, "meet Jack."
Nickolai's breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes wide, his mind reeling. "This isn't—this isn't human," he stammered, his hand instinctively reaching for his pistol, only to freeze when he realized how useless it would be.
I snapped my fingers.
A wave of telekinetic pressure slammed every man in the room against the walls, their bodies pinned like insects under glass. Their weapons clattered to the ground, their struggles useless. With another flick of my wrist, I twisted—just slightly—and every single one of their necks snapped in unison.
The bodies dropped like marionettes with cut strings, the thud of fifty corpses hitting the marble floor echoing through the hall like the tolling of a death knell.
Silence.
Nickolai staggered back a step, his face ashen, his hands trembling. The man who had spent a lifetime believing he was untouchable, the man who had built an empire on fear, was staring at me like I was something otherworldly.
"Now," I said, my voice calm, final, cutting through the silence like a blade, "do you still have objections?"
Natalya's laughter was soft, triumphant, her eyes shining with pride. "Told you, Dad," she murmured, her smirk knowing.
Nickolai's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "You—you killed them all," he managed, his voice a rasp, "without even touching them."
"I did," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between the pile of corpses littering his hall. "You're not human," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No," I agreed, "I'm not."
For the first time in his life, Nickolai had no words. He just stared, his mind grappling with the reality of what he had just witnessed. The man who had ruled through intimidation and brute force was now facing something he couldn't control, couldn't understand.
Natalya stood, stepping beside me, her hand slipping into mine. "So," she said, her voice sweet, mocking, "still think he's not worthy?"
Nickolai's eyes burned into mine, his pride warring with the raw, unshakable terror of what he'd just witnessed. The man who had spent decades believing himself untouchable, who had built an empire on blood and fear, was now staring at something he couldn't control, couldn't comprehend. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers twitching like he was itching to reach for his pistol—only to realize how useless it would be.
Finally, he exhaled, a slow, shuddering breath that seemed to carry the weight of his defeat. His shoulders slumped, just slightly, the first crack in the armor of a man who had never known surrender. "No," he said, his voice rough, broken, "I don't."
Natalya's chuckle was soft, knowing, her fingers tightening around mine as she stepped closer. "Jack," she said, her voice laced with pride, her eyes gleaming as she looked up at me, "is like a god." She turned back to her father, her smirk playful, taunting. "He has abilities—things you can't even imagine."
Nickolai's gaze snapped to her, his expression a mix of disbelief and fascination. "Abilities?" he repeated, his voice a low growl, "You mean like that?" He gestured vaguely at the pile of corpses scattered across his once-pristine hall, his jaw clenching.
Natalya shook her head, her grin widening. "Oh, Dad," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "that was just the beginning." She leaned against me, her body warm, her presence possessive.
"He can teleport—as we did earlier. One second we're in the cabin, the next we're here." She snapped her fingers, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. "He can move things with his mind—like you just saw."
Nickolai's eyes widened in shock as Natalya laid out the truth of what I was—what I could do. His gaze flicked between me and the corpses scattered across his hall, his mind clearly struggling to reconcile the supernatural with the real.
For a man like him, a man who had built his empire on brutality and control, the idea of something—someone—existing beyond his understanding was unsettling. But then, something shifted in his expression. The shock melted into amusement, his lips curling into a cheeky, knowing smirk.
"Son-in-law," he said, his voice dripping with a mix of resignation and mischief, "I have no objection to you guys being together." He leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked at me with a newfound—almost fatherly—approval.
"In fact," he continued, his grin widening, "why don't you two just get married?" He spread his hands, gesturing to the grand hall around us, the bloodstained marble and the broken bodies of his men.
"Today seems like such a good day for it, no?" His chuckle was dark, amused, the kind of laugh a man makes when he's just realized he's been outplayed—and doesn't mind it one bit.
Natalya burst out laughing, her hand flying to her mouth as she shook her head. "Dad," she said, her voice mocking, "you're selling your daughter out?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was a hint of exasperation there, too. "I didn't take you for the romantic type."
Nickolai waved a hand dismissively, his smirk never fading. "Ah, come on," he said, his voice teasing, "what father wouldn't want a son-in-law who can snap his fingers and win any fight?" His gaze flicked to me, his expression turning serious for just a moment.
Natalya rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. "Dad, you're impossible."
Nickolai sighed, shaking his head as if in regret. "You know what my real regret is?" he said, his voice taking on a mock-somber tone.
"That I only have one daughter." He let out a dramatic sigh, his hand pressing to his chest like he was truly wounded.
"If I had ten," he declared, his grin returning, "I'd betroth them all to him." He gestured at me, his eyes gleaming with approving mischief.
"A man who can teleport? Who can kill fifty men without breaking a sweat?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "What father wouldn't want that for his daughters?"
Natalya groaned, her face flushing a deep shade of red, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Dad, you're insane," she muttered, shaking her head in mock exasperation.
Nickolai laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the grand hall with a lightness that seemed to push away the darkness of the past few minutes.
The bodies of his men still littered the floor, but for the first time, it was like he didn't even see them. His gaze flicked to me, his expression softening in a way that made it clear—he had made his decision.
"Maybe," he admitted, his voice gruff but affectionate, "but a father's got to do what a father's got to do."
I met his eyes, my voice steady, serious. "Father-in-law," I said, the word feeling natural on my tongue, "I want to take Natalya back with me to America."
Nickolai didn't hesitate. "She's your wife," he said, his tone final, "you can do whatever you want." He waved a hand dismissively, as if the matter was already settled.
Natalya, however, wasn't so easily convinced. She turned to her father, her brows furrowing with concern. "Dad..." she started, her voice hesitant, "but what about the business? I can't just leave—"
Nickolai snorted, cutting her off with a dismissive wave. "Hmph," he grunted, his expression unbothered, "don't worry about the business. I'll handle everything." His eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into a teasing tone.
"Just worry about spending more time with my son-in-law." He waggled his eyebrows, his grin turning playful. "You've got to grasp him well, Natalya... otherwise, some vixen might come along and seduce him."
Natalya's face flamed with embarrassment, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Dad!" she exclaimed, her voice exasperated, "You have to believe in your daughter!"
Nickolai chuckled, his amusement unfazed by her outburst. I stepped in before she could retaliate, my voice calm, reassuring.
"I'll help Natalya take care of the business with Isabella from America," I said, my gaze flicking between Natalya and Nickolai. "She'd get bored if she didn't have anything to do."
Natalya's expression softened, her eyes warming as she looked at me, a small smile playing on her lips. Nickolai, on the other hand, seemed to relax even further, his nodding becoming more enthusiastic as he processed my words.
"Hmph, hmph," he murmured, pecking his head in approval. "Good, good. That's good." His gaze flicked to Natalya, his expression softening once more. "You've got yourself a good man, Natalya," he said, his voice gruff but sincere. "A real man."
Natalya's smile widened, her fingers tightening around mine as she leaned into my side. "I know, Dad," she said, her voice soft, "I know."
Nickolai exhaled, running a hand over his face as if wiping away the last of his concerns. "Alright, alright," he said, his tone resigned but warm, "go on, then. Take my daughter to America."
He paused, his eyes gleaming with mischief once more. "But you better bring her back to visit, son... or I'll have to come find you."
I chuckled, my arm tightening around Natalya's waist, pulling her closer as if to seal the promise. "You have my word," I said, my voice firm, unshaken, carrying the weight of a vow that wasn't just spoken—it was felt.
Nickolai gave a final, gruff nod, his eyes lingering on Natalya for a moment longer before he waved us off with a mix of resignation and pride. "Go on, then," he muttered, though there was a hint of warmth in his voice. "But don't make me wait too long for those grandkids, son."
Natalya's face flamed again, but this time, her laughter was bright, unfiltered, as she rolled her eyes at her father's teasing. "Dad! We're not even married yet!"
Nickolai waved a hand dismissively, his smirk unrepentant. "You can have kids before getting married," he said, already turning away, though I could see the smile he was trying to hide.
We stepped out of the mansion, the heavy doors closing behind us with a finality that felt like the end of one Chapter and the beginning of another.
The evening air was cool, the sky painted in hues of gold and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon. The estate's grounds stretched out before us, the grandeur of Nickolai's fortress now feeling like a distant memory rather than a threat.
And there, waiting near the armored SUVs, stood Polina and the rest of Natalya's most trusted guards. Their postures were rigid, their eyes sharp, but there was a relief in their expressions—like they'd been holding their breath and could finally exhale.
Polina, in particular, stood out, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze flicking between Natalya and me with a mix of curiosity and respect.
She stepped forward as we approached, her voice low but clear. "Boss," she said, nodding to Natalya before her eyes settled on me.
There was no hostility in Polina's stance this time—just a quiet acknowledgment, the kind that settles in when you've seen enough to recognize you're in the presence of something beyond the ordinary.
Something that defies logic, something that rewrites the rules. Her posture was rigid, her gaze sharp, but there was a respect there now, a recognition that hadn't been present before.
"Everything's ready," she said, her voice steady, gesturing toward the sleek, armored SUVs parked in a neat line. "Where to?"
Natalya turned to me, her eyes questioning, her fingers still laced with mine. I didn't hesitate. "Let's go directly to the airport," I said, my voice firm, "and call Yelena and Claire. Tell them to meet us there."
Natalya nodded, already pulling out her phone as she turned back to Polina. "Drive us to the airport," she instructed, "with Alisa." She paused, her gaze flicking to the other women standing nearby—two more I hadn't seen before. "And Diana and Irene can go pick up Claire and Yelena."
Polina gave a sharp nod, already moving to carry out the order, but my attention was drawn to the woman standing slightly apart from the others.
She was tall, her black hair pulled into a tight braid, her sharp features giving her an air of lethal precision. A tattoo of a wolf coiled around her wrist, its eyes piercing, almost alive. I realized with a jolt—I'd never seen her before.
I activated my AI Lens, and the information flooded my vision in an instant.
Name: Katerina Ivanova
Age: 31
Specializations: Sniper Expert
Notes: Former FSB. Cold, methodical. Loyal to Natalya above all else.
A sniper.
Of course.
That's why I'd never seen her before. She'd been watching from a distance this whole time, her rifle trained on any threat before it could even reach us. A ghost in the shadows, a guardian no one knew was there.
Natalya followed my gaze, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Ah, you've noticed Katerina," she murmured, her voice amused.
"She's the best sniper my father ever trained. If you'd been in any real danger, you'd have never even seen the bullet coming."
I glanced at Katerina, who met my eyes with a cold, unreadable stare. There was no smile, no warmth—just the unshakable loyalty of a soldier who had sworn her life to Natalya's safety. She gave a single, curt nod, the only acknowledgment I'd get.
"Good to know," I said, my voice low, before turning back to Natalya. "Let's move. We've got a plane to catch."
Natalya grinned, slipping her phone back into her pocket as Polina and Alisa moved to the lead SUV, Katerina falling into step behind us like a silent shadow. The engines roared to life, the vehicles pulling away from the estate with a smooth, purposeful motion.
The SUV hummed beneath us as we sped toward the airport, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and white outside the tinted windows. Natalya leaned into me, her body warm and relaxed, her voice a soft murmur against the low rumble of the engine.
"You like my team?" she asked, her tone light and playful, but I could hear the undercurrent of pride in her words. She wasn't just asking if I approved—she was reminding me that these women were hers, handpicked, trained, and loyal to the bone.
I glanced toward the front of the vehicle, where Polina sat in the passenger seat, her sharp eyes scanning the road ahead, and Alisa drove with practiced precision.
Behind us, Katerina remained silent, her presence like a shadow—unseen but always there. I could almost feel the weight of her gaze, the cold calculation of a sniper who had spent years watching, waiting, protecting.
"They're impressive," I admitted, my voice low but sincere. "But then again, I'd expect nothing less from someone like you." My fingers traced idle patterns on Natalya's wrist, feeling the steady pulse of her heartbeat beneath my touch. "You don't surround yourself with weakness."
Natalya's lips curved into a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with something between amusement and pride. "No," she agreed, "I don't."
She shifted slightly, pulling out her phone to check a message. "SERA already booked us a private plane before we even got here," she said, her voice smooth with satisfaction. "We'll be wheels-up in less than an hour."
I raised an eyebrow, impressed but not surprised. "Efficient," I murmured. "Just like you."
She chuckled, leaning in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "You say that like it's a bad thing, husband," she teased, her voice dropping into a husky whisper.
I smirked, my arm tightening around her. "Oh, it's not," I assured her, my voice rough with promise. "But you should know by now—I like being the one in control."
Natalya's smile turned wicked, her fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path up my arm. "Then it's a good thing I like challenging you," she purred, her eyes dark with mischief.
I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, my gaze locking onto hers. "Careful, wife," I warned, my voice a low growl, "or I'll have to remind you exactly who's in charge once we're on that plane."
Natalya's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, her breath hitching just slightly as my words lingered in the air between us. She glanced toward the front of the SUV, where Polina and Alisa sat, their postures rigid and professional, though I caught the faintest flicker of a smirk on Polina's lips.
Natalya's fingers tightened around mine, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're impossible," she murmured, though the way her body leaned into mine betrayed her amusement—and something deeper.
I chuckled, pressing a quick, possessive kiss to her temple before the SUV rolled to a stop on the private airstrip. The sleek, white body of the private jet gleamed under the bright runway lights, its engines already humming in anticipation.
The driver's door opened, and Alisa stepped out first, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings before she gave a nod to Polina. Natalya and I followed, stepping out into the cool night air, the scent of jet fuel and ocean salt filling my lungs.
The interior of the plane was all luxury—plush leather seats, polished wood accents, and soft, ambient lighting that cast everything in a warm glow. Natalya settled into one of the seats near the front, her body relaxing as she buckled in.
Polina and Alisa took their places across from her, their postures alert but comfortable, like they'd done this a hundred times before.
Katerina, however, remained by the door, her stance rigid, her eyes sharp as she kept watch, her hand resting near the pistol at her hip. She didn't sit. She didn't relax. She was a sentinel, ever-vigilant, her loyalty absolute.
I took the seat beside Natalya, my arm draped over the back of hers, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her shoulder. "They'll be here soon," I murmured, my voice low, as if sensing her impatience.
Natalya nodded, her gaze flicking to the window as the runway lights blurred in the distance. "I know," she said, her voice soft, though there was a hint of anticipation in her tone. "But I'd rather not waste a second more than we have to."
I smirked, my thumb brushing against her collarbone. "Patience, wife," I teased, my voice a dark purr. "Good things come to those who wait."
She rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched into a smile. "Since when do you believe in waiting?" she shot back, her voice playful.
Before I could retort, the sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase at the front of the plane. Diana and Irene appeared first, their postures alert, their eyes scanning the cabin before they stepped aside. And then—Yelena and Claire followed, their faces brightening as they spotted Natalya and me.
"Finally!" Yelena exclaimed, her voice lively, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she practically bounded toward us. "We were starting to think you'd left without us!"
Claire followed, her steps more measured but no less eager, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You wouldn't dare," she said, her voice teasing, though there was a hint of relief in her tone.
Natalya laughed, standing to pull them both into a quick, affectionate hug. "As if I'd leave my favorite troublemakers behind," she said, her voice warm, playful.
Yelena grinned, her arms wrapping around Natalya before she turned to me, her eyes sparkling. "So, husband," she purred, her voice mocking, "you going to show us how fast this plane can go?"
I chuckled, my gaze flicking to Claire, who had settled into the seat across from us, her expression calm but her eyes bright with amusement. "Oh, I think we'll be going fast enough," I said, my voice low, promising, as the engines roared to life and the plane began to move toward the runway.
Katerina finally moved from her post by the door, taking a seat near the back of the cabin, her gaze never fully relaxing, her vigilance unbroken. Polina and Alisa exchanged a knowing glance, their smirks subtle but undeniable, as if they'd heard this all before.
The plane lifted with a smooth, powerful surge, the engines roaring as we climbed into the night sky. The city lights below shrank into a glittering carpet, the world outside the window dissolving into a sea of stars.
I leaned back in my seat, my arm tightening around Natalya as the cabin settled into the steady hum of flight. "Buckle up," I murmured, my voice a dark promise, "this is going to be a long flight."
Natalya didn't waste a second.
The moment the plane started flying smoothly after taking off, she unbuckled hers with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Before I could react, she straddled my lap, her hands resting on my shoulders, her body pressing against mine in a way that was both a challenge and a claim.
"Since we've got time," she purred, her voice husky, "I thought I'd make sure you remember who your first wife is."
Claire and Yelena, who had been quietly chatting across from us, paused mid-conversation. Their eyes snapped to Natalya, their expressions a mix of amusement and mock outrage.
"Little sister Natalya," Claire said, her voice teasing but firm, "are you trying to provoke us?"
She leaned forward, her fingers tapping against the armrest, her gaze locking onto Natalya with a playful warning. "Jack is our husband too, remember?"
Yelena grinned, her eyes sparking with mischief as she crossed her arms, her tone light but challenging. "Yeah, Natalya. You can't just claim him all to yourself."
Natalya laughed, her fingers tracing the collar of my shirt, her voice bold and unapologetic. "But I came first," she said, her smirk deepening, "so I'm the eldest sister. And that means you have to listen to me."
Yelena snorted, shaking her head. "Oh, please," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "since when do you get to pull the eldest sister card?"
Claire chuckled, her gaze flicking to me, her tone playful. "She's got a point, though. You did come first, Natalya. But that doesn't mean you get to hoard him."
Natalya leaned in, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a whisper meant only for me. "Watch me," she murmured, before turning back to them with a smug smile. "Besides, I'm not hoarding him. I'm just... reminding him who his first love was."
Yelena rolled her eyes, but her smirk didn't fade. "Oh, so now you're playing the first love card?" She unbuckled her seatbelt, her movements smooth and deliberate as she stood, her gaze locking onto me.
"Fine. If that's how it's going to be..." She sauntered over, her hips swaying just enough to draw my attention, before dropping into the seat beside us, her hand resting on my thigh. "Then I'll just have to remind him who's the most fun."
Natalya's lips crashed into mine, hard and possessive, her fingers tangling in my hair as she claimed me right there in front of them all. The kiss was fierce, demanding, a brand of ownership that left no room for doubt.
When she finally pulled back, her breath was ragged, her eyes dark with triumph. "There," she murmured, her voice husky and satisfied, "my mark." Her thumb brushed over my lower lip, as if to seal the claim, her smirk wicked and unapologetic.
Yelena let out a low laugh, her fingers tightening on my thigh as she leaned in, her voice a purr. "Oh, so that's how we're playing this?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Her lips pressed against the other side of my neck, her teeth grazing my skin just enough to leave her own mark, her breath hot against my ear. "Then let's see how long it lasts," she whispered, her tone challenging.
Claire's smirk was knowing, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on my chest, each touch calculated, possessive. She leaned in, her lips brushing mine in a kiss that was softer than Natalya's fiery claim, but no less demanding.
"And here's mine," she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze, her eyes gleaming with amusement—and something deeper, something hungry. "Just so you don't forget."
I could feel the weight of their gazes—Polina, Irene, and the others, sneaking glances from the edges of the cabin, their expressions a mix of shock, amusement, and resigned acceptance.
They'd seen their boss—their unshakable, untouchable Natalya—melt into something softer, something needier, as she straddled my lap. And now, Claire and Yelena were clinging to me, their touches bold, their claims unapologetic.
Natalya shifted slightly, her thighs pressing against mine, and I felt the unmistakable hardness of my cock straining against my pants. A flush crept up her neck, her cheeks pinking as she realized just how affected I was.
She bit her lip, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Seems like someone's enjoying this a little too much," she murmured, her hips rolling just enough to make me hiss between my teeth.
Yelena chuckled, her hand sliding down my chest, her fingers tracing the outline of my erection through the fabric. "Oh, I think he's enjoying it just the right amount," she purred, her voice husky, her eyes dark with mischief.
Claire's laugh was soft, her fingers tangling in my hair as she leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "And we're all going to make sure he keeps enjoying it," she whispered, her tone promising.
Natalya's blush deepened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she rocked her hips again, her voice breathless. "Then I guess we'd better not waste any time," she murmured, her fingers tangling in my shirt as she pressed her lips to mine again, this time slower, deeper, her tongue teasing against my lower lip.
I growled, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer, my cock throbbing with the need to claim her—all of them. The heat between us was unbearable, the air thick with desire, with the promise of what was to come.
And as the plane soared through the night, the soft sounds of their laughter, their moans, their whispers, filled the cabin, a symphony of need and love that I never wanted to end.
The cabin air felt thick with tension, the kind that crackled like electricity before a storm. Polina and the others had exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and disbelief, before turning away with practiced discretion. They knew their place—knew when to look and when to look away. But the weight of their presence still lingered, a silent reminder that we weren't alone.
I paused, my grip tightening slightly on Natalya's waist as I met the eyes of all three women—Natalya, Claire, and Yelena—each of them flushed, breathless, their bodies pressed against mine in ways that left no room for misinterpretation. My voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl, my gaze dark with warning.
"You guys are playing with fire," I said, my tone rough, unyielding. My fingers tightened on Natalya's hip, my other hand brushing against Claire's arm, my eyes flicking to Yelena's smirking face.
"You don't want to be seen by Polina and the others—especially you, Natalya." My voice darkened, my words deliberate, provocative. "What would happen if they saw their arrogant boss—their untouchable Natalya—jumping on my cock like a bitch in heat?"
The words hit like a whipcrack.
Natalya's body tensed, her breath hitching as the reality of the situation slammed into her. Her cheeks, already flushed, burned crimson, her fingers clenching in my shirt as she realized—Polina was still here. Irene was still here. Her entire team of loyal, deadly women was still within earshot, still watching from the corners of their eyes.
She pulled back slightly, her voice shaking, her arrogance shattering under the weight of her own desire. "I..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry..." Her gaze dropped, her confidence wavering for the first time. "I shouldn't have provoked you..."
The submission in her voice sent a jolt through me, something primal and possessive flaring in my chest. I cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her swollen lips, my voice softer now, but no less commanding.
"Good girl," I murmured, my tone approving, "but you know I like it when you do."
Yelena bit her lip, her eyes gleaming with mischief, though she didn't push further. Claire's hand tightened on my arm, her voice low, soothing. "We should... take this somewhere private," she murmured, her gaze flicking toward the closed door of the bedroom at the back of the plane.
I nodded, my grip on Natalya firm as I stood, lifting her effortlessly. "Then let's go," I said, my voice a dark promise, "before I decide to remind you all right here what happens when you test me."
As I lifted Nataya up, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist, her body molding against mine as if she were made to fit there.
The heat of her flush seeped through my shirt, her breath hitching as I began moving toward the private cabin at the back of the plane. The air was thick with tension, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.
But then—Natalya, Claire, and Yelena all froze as they realized Polina and the others were watching. Their cheeks burned crimson, their bodies tense with embarrassment.
Natalya buried her face against my chest, her fingers clutching at my shirt like a docile kitten, her voice muffled but clear. "I can't believe this," she whispered, her arrogance shattering under the weight of her own desire—and the eyes of her subordinates.
I kicked the door shut behind us, the click of the lock final, unmistakable. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the cabin lights casting shadows across the plush bed, the luxurious space suddenly feeling intimate, charged.
I looked at the three beauties before me—Natalya, still flushed and avoiding my gaze; Claire, her lips parted in anticipation; and Yelena, her eyes gleaming with a mix of shame and excitement.
Yelena was the first to break the silence. "Bastard," she muttered, her voice rough, her cheeks still pink. "I am so ashamed..."
Natalya groaned, her face burning as she finally lifted her head, her voice raw. "How can I be their boss... like that?" She glanced at me, her expression tormented. "You're making me lose face..."
Natalya was still flushed, her cheeks burning with shame and desire, her body trembling as I lowered her onto the bed. She tried to hide her face again, her fingers clutching at the sheets, but I wasn't about to let her.
"No hiding now, boss," I murmured, my voice a dark purr as I hovered over her, my hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Her breath hitched, her body tense with anticipation—and embarrassment.
Yelena and Claire watched from the edge of the bed, their own cheeks flushed, their eyes dark with hunger. But it was Natalya who had my full attention.
"You started this," I reminded her, my fingers tracing the outlines of her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse.
She whimpered, her back arching as I pinched them gently, then rolled them between my fingers, teasing them into stiff peaks. "And now you'll finish it."
Natalya bit her lip, her voice shaky. "J-Jack..." she stammered, her fingers clenching into fists. "Not in front of—"
"In front of who?" I interrupted, my voice low, dangerous, as I leaned down, my lips brushing the fabric over her left nipple.
I licked it slowly, my tongue tracing the hardened bud through the thin material, soaking it until it was see-through, the dark peak visible beneath.
"Your loyal bodyguards?" I murmured, my breath hot against her damp blouse. "The ones who worship you?" My tongue swirled again, and Natalya let out a broken moan, her body jerking beneath me.
"N-no..." she whispered, but her protest was weak, her hips lifting off the bed as I licked her again, this time harder, my teeth grazing the fabric just enough to make her gasp.
"Then who?" I growled, my hand sliding up to cup her other breast, my thumb circling her nipple before pinching it firmly. Natalya cried out, her head falling back, her thighs clenching around nothing.
"Are you afraid they will hear their boss's horny moans?" I whispered, my lips moving to her armpit, my tongue flicking out to lick the sensitive skin there. Natalya squealed, her body twisting as I lapped at her, my hot breath making her shiver.
"They'll hear how wet you get for me... how needy you sound when I touch you..." My tongue traced up to her collarbone, then back down, licking a slow, deliberate path to her other nipple, soaking the fabric until it clung to her skin, her hard peak aching for more.
"S-stop..." Natalya whimpered, but her voice was drowning in pleasure, her body betraying her as she arched into my touch. "P-please..."
"Please, what?" I demanded, my lips closing around her nipple through her blouse, my tongue swirling as I sucked hard, making the fabric stick to her skin, her nipple throbbing beneath my mouth.
"You want me to stop?" I pulled back, my teeth scraping the damp material, and Natalya let out a broken, needy sound, her hands fisting in the sheets.
"N-no..." she admitted, her voice raw, her pride shattering under the weight of her desire.
"Good girl," I growled, my lips moving to her ear, my tongue flicking the shell before I whispered, "Because I'm far from done with you."
Yelena and Claire watched, their own breaths ragged, their cheeks flushed with arousal. Claire's fingers tangled in the sheets, her thighs pressing together, while Yelena bit her lip, her hand sliding up her own skirt, her eyes locked on Natalya's trembling body.
"Aaaaah hmmm... J-Jack..." Natalya whined, her voice breaking as I licked her nipple again, my tongue swirling before I pulled the fabric aside with my teeth, exposing her bare, hardened peak.
My lips closed around her nipple, my tongue flicking the sensitive bud as I sucked hard, making her back arch off the bed.
Natalya's body trembled beneath me, her skin flushed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as I trailed my lips from her nipples down to the sensitive curve of her armpit.
The scent of her—warm, musky, intoxicating—filled my senses, and I inhale deeply, my tongue flicking out to taste her there.
The moment my lips pressed against the delicate skin, she jerked, a sharp gasp escaping her as her fingers clawed at my shoulders.
"J-Jack—!" she whimpered, her voice breaking as I licked a slow, deliberate path up the hollow of her armpit, my tongue swirling over the sensitive flesh. Her body arched off the bed, her thighs clenching around nothing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "N-not there—!"
"Why not?" I murmured, my breath hot against her damp skin as I licked her again, this time longer, slower, my tongue tracing every inch of the soft, hidden flesh.
"You taste so good here..." I growled, my lips pressing against her pulse point, my teeth grazing just enough to make her squirm.
"Sweet... salty..." My tongue flicked again, and Natalya let out a broken, needy sound, her fingers digging into my hair as if she wanted to push me away—but didn't dare.
Across the bed, Yelena and Claire watched, their own cheeks flaming as they took in the intimate, erotic sight.
Yelena bit her lip, her thighs pressing together, her fingers twisting in the sheets as she watched me lick Natalya's armpit like it was the most delicious thing she'd ever seen. "That's..." she swallowed, her voice husky, "so filthy..."
Claire's breath hitched, her hand sliding up her own thigh, her eyes dark with arousal. "I-I didn't know that could be..." she trailed off, her cheeks burning as she watched Natalya tremble beneath my tongue.
I chuckled, my lips pressing against Natalya's skin again, my tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles. "Oh, it can," I murmured, my voice rough with promise.
"And it will..." I licked her again, harder, my tongue flicking against the sensitive flesh before I sucked gently, making Natalya whimper.
"J-Jack, please—!" she begged, her voice shaking, her body twisting beneath me as I lavished her armpit with hot, wet kisses, my tongue exploring every inch of her hidden, erogenous zone. "They're watching—!"
"Let them watch," I growled, my lips moving to her ear, my tongue flicking the shell before I whispered, "Let them see how good I make you feel..." My hand slid up her thigh, my fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of her panties, and Natalya let out a broken, needy moan, her hips jerking upward.
Yelena let out a soft, shaky breath, her fingers tightening in the sheets as she watched Natalya fall apart beneath my touch. "God..." she murmured, her voice thick with desire, "that's so hot..."
Claire's lips parted, her breath coming faster as she watched me tease Natalya, her own body responding to the erotic display. "I-I never thought..." she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, "that that could be so... sexy..."
I smirked, my lips returning to Natalya's armpit, my tongue licking a long, slow stripe up the sensitive skin. "Oh, it is," I murmured, my voice dark with promise, "and you're all going to learn just how good it feels..."
My teeth grazed her skin again, and Natalya let out a high, needy sound, her body arching into my touch, her pride shattering under the weight of her desire.
"Y-you're aah so bad... Aaaaah," she gasped, her fingers clutching at my hair, her voice drowning in pleasure as I licked her armpit again, my tongue swirling before I sucked gently, making her whimper.
"You love it when I make you beg... right?" My hand slid higher, my fingers pressing against the soaked fabric of her panties, and Natalya let out a broken, needy sound, her hips rolling against my touch.
"Fuck... you.. aaaaaah," she whimpered, but her voice was drowning in pleasure, her body betraying her as she arched into my touch, her thighs clenching around my hand.
I chuckled, my lips brushing her ear. "Really..," I murmured, my fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, "So that's what you want, my little boss."
And with that, I yanked them down, exposing her glistening, swollen folds to the cool air—and the hungry eyes of Yelena and Claire.
"Now beg for me, boss..." I growled, my tongue licking a slow, deliberate path down her stomach, lower... lower... "Let them hear you."
My fingers closed around Natalya's perked nipples, pinching them firmly through the thin fabric of her blouse as I lowered her onto the bed. The sharp gasp that tore from her lips was music to my ears, her back arching off the mattress as I rolled her hardened buds between my fingers, teasing them into aching peaks.
Her cheeks were already flushed, but now they burned crimson, her breath coming in ragged bursts as she glared up at me, her pride warring with the desire pooling in her darkened eyes.
Natalya looked at me with a flushed face and said, " Please... Hmm..... I can't.... Aaaaaah"
"Wasn't it you," I murmured, my voice a low, dangerous purr, "who started this first?" My thumb brushed over her swollen lower lip, my gaze locking onto hers.
"I don't care," I continued, my fingers tightening just enough to make her whimper, "I'm going to let them hear the naughty little sounds their boss makes when she's begging for my cock."
Natalya's face flamed, her fingers clenching into the sheets beneath her. "Don't you dare—!" she hissed, her voice shaking with a mix of indignation and arousal.
I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear. "Why wouldn't I dare?" I growled, my free hand sliding up her thigh, my fingers brushing against the heat between her legs.
"You started this, boss." My lips curved into a smirk as I felt her shiver, her body betraying her protest. "Now you'll finish it."
Natalya's eyes flicked desperately to Claire and Yelena, her voice breaking with embarrassment. "Sisters... help me..." she pleaded, her cheeks burning as she realized just how exposed she was—not just physically, but in every way that mattered.
Claire bit her lip, her eyes dark with amusement as she leaned against the bedpost, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the sheets. "Oh, Natalya," she murmured, her voice teasing, "you know you don't really want help." Her gaze flicked to me, her smirk deepening. "Besides, it's fun watching you squirm."
Yelena chuckled, her hand sliding up my arm as she leaned in, her breath hot against my neck. "Yeah, sister," she purred, her voice husky with mischief, "you started this. Now you've got to take it." Her fingers traced down my chest, her eyes gleaming as she watched Natalya tremble beneath my touch.
Natalya let out a frustrated sound, her body arching as my fingers found the waistband of her skirt, tugging it down to expose the lace of her panties. "You're all traitors—!" she whined, but her voice was drowning in pleasure, her hips lifting off the bed as my thumb brushed over the damp fabric.
"Oh, we know," Claire murmured, her voice soft but firm, as she leaned in to press a kiss to Natalya's temple, her fingers tangling in her hair.
I grinned, my lips capturing Natalya's in a hard, possessive kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as my fingers hooked into her panties, pulling them aside to expose her glistening folds. "And I love hearing you beg," I growled, my thumb circling her clit, making her body jerk beneath me.
Natalya let out a broken, needy sound, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her voice muffled against my lips. "I hate you—!"
"No," I murmured, my lips trailing down her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point.
"You don't." And with that, I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them deep, my thumb pressing against her clit as I started to fuck her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Natalya's back arched, a moan tearing from her lips as her body trembled, her voice breaking into whimpers that filled the room—loud enough for Polina and the others to hear, if they were listening.
I pulled my fingers away from Natalya's throbbing clit, her juices glistening on my skin, thick and slick with her arousal.
I held them up between us, the evidence of her desire coating my fingers, shimmering in the dim light of the cabin.
Natalya's breath hitched, her cheeks burning with shame as she watched me, her body still trembling from the pleasure I'd just denied her.
Then, slowly, deliberately, I darted my tongue out, licking my fingers clean, one by one, my eyes locked onto hers.
The taste of her—sweet, musky, intoxicating—filled my senses, and I let out a low, approving groan. "Mmm..." I murmured, my voice rough, "so fucking sweet, boss."
Natalya's face flamed crimson, her fingers clenching into the sheets as she realized—Claire and Yelena were watching. Witnessing. Hearing. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her voice shaking with embarrassment. "J-Jack..." she whispered, her eyes flicking to the side, unable to meet mine.
"What's wrong, love?" I taunted, my voice a dark purr as I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. "Don't like your sisters seeing how wet you get for me?" My tongue flicked out again, tracing the shell of her ear before I whispered, "Or is it that you love it... but don't want to admit it?"
Natalya let out a broken, needy sound, her body arching as I pressed my knee between her thighs, forcing them apart. The friction of my leg against her soaked panties made her whimper, her hips rolling against me, seeking more. "N-no..." she stammered, but her voice lacked conviction, her body betraying her protest as she ground herself against my thigh.
Claire bit her lip, her eyes dark with arousal as she watched me tease Natalya, her own breath coming faster. "Oh, Natalya," she murmured, her voice soft but amused, her fingers tracing down her own thigh. "You know you're dripping for him." Her gaze locked onto Natalya's flushed face, her smirk deepening. "Why hide it?"
Natalya glared at her, her pride flaring despite her desperation. "Hmph," she mocked, her voice sharp but breathless, "what are you looking at me for?" She shifted, her lips curling into a challenge. "Let me see your pussy—to see if it's not dripping..." Her eyes flicked to Claire's thighs, her tone taunting. "Even though he hasn't touched you yet."
Claire's cheeks flamed, her fingers pausing on her thigh as Natalya's provocation hit its mark. "Don't tell me you're afraid," Natalya purred, her voice dripping with mockery, "of me—your senior sister."
Claire laughed, shaking her head, though her blush deepened. "Since when are you the elder sister?" she shot back, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "You've been acting like the youngest since you started whining for his cock."
Yelena chuckled, her hand sliding up my arm as she leaned in, her voice husky with mischief. "Oh, little sister Claire," she purred, her gaze flicking between them, "who said she was afraid?" Her smirk turned wicked as she trailed her fingers down Claire's arm, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Why don't you show her, sister?" Her eyes gleamed with challenge. "Show Natalya how your pussy is better than this little girl's."
Claire's breath hitched, her fingers tightening on her thigh as Yelena's words settled over her.
For a moment, she hesitated, her cheeks burning—but then, her defiance flared. "Fine," she murmured, her voice soft but firm, her hands moving to the hem of her skirt. "If you insist."
With a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted the fabric, exposing her lace-clad hips, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. Natalya's eyes widened, her breath catching as Claire pulled them aside, revealing her glistening, swollen folds.
"There," Claire said, her voice breathless but triumphant, her fingers gliding through her own wetness, her glistening folds on full display. "Still think you're the only one dripping for him?" Her eyes gleamed with challenge, her lips curled in a smug smile as she watched Natalya's reaction.
Natalya's lips parted, her cheeks burning as she stared at Claire's exposed pussy, her own body aching with need. "Y-you—!" she stammered, her pride flaring despite the desire pooling between her thighs.
But then, her gaze flicked to Claire's dense, dark pubic hair, and her mocking smirk returned. "It's a jungle down there," she taunted, her voice dripping with false superiority. "Mine is brand new... not like yours." She tilted her chin, her tone sharp. "Jack will like mine... yours is ugly."
The words hit like a slap.
Claire's smirk faltered, her fingers freezing mid-motion. A shadow of insecurity crossed her face, her shoulders tensing just slightly. She pulled her hand back, her expression falling as Natalya's mocking words settled over her.
"Enough."
My hand came down on Natalya's ass with a sharp, resounding smack, the sound echoing through the cabin. Natalya yelped, her body jerking forward as a small, surprised squirt escaped her, her cheeks flaming with shock.
"Don't talk to your sister like that," I growled, my voice low and dangerous, my grip on her hip tightening. "And who said I don't like her pussy like that?" My eyes burned into Natalya's, my tone final. "I love it."
Natalya's defiance crumbled.
She sat up, her expression softening as she realized she'd gone too far. "Sister... Claire..." she murmured, her voice shaky, "I'm sorry..." She swallowed, her fingers twisting in the sheets. "I didn't mean to hurt you... I just said it... casually."
Claire exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she pulled her skirt back down, her voice soft. "I..." she started, her cheeks still pink, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have reacted like that..." She looked at Natalya, her eyes sincere.
The tension in the room melted away, replaced by something warmer, something softer.
I pulled Natalya closer, my hand resting on her waist, my thumb brushing soothing circles on her hip. She leaned into me, her body relaxing as the weight of the moment settled between us all.
Claire's eyes flicked to Natalya's reddened ass, her expression softening with concern. "Husband," she murmured, her voice gentle but firm, "don't hit my sister Natalya..." Her fingers brushed over the faint mark, her touch light, almost maternal. "Look, it's all red..."
Yelena chuckled, though her tone carried a playful edge of reprimand. "Yeah," she added, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the bedpost, her gaze flicking between Natalya and me.
"That's domestic violence, you know. You're bullying us." Her smirk was teasing, but there was a hint of seriousness beneath it, a reminder that even in play, there were lines we didn't cross.
I grabbed Yelena by the wrist, my grip firm but not painful, as I pulled her against me. She let out a surprised yelp, her smug smirk faltering as she stumbled into my chest.
"You," I growled, my voice low and dangerous, "let's call the police and see how I bully you." My eyes gleamed with mischief, my lips curving into a dark smirk as I tightened my hold just enough to make her squirm.
Yelena's expression shifted from amusement to mock terror, her free hand flailing dramatically as she tried to wrench herself free.
"Sister, save me!" Yelena yelped, her voice dripping with exaggerated desperation as she glanced at Natalya and Claire, her eyes wide with mock terror.
"He's abusing me! Domestic violence! Help!" She wriggled in my grip, her theatrics over the top, but the smirk playing at the corners of her lips betrayed her amusement.
Before I could retort, Claire suddenly turned, her back to me, her voice soft but bold. "Husband," she murmured, her tone playful but serious, "don't bully sister Yelena too much…"
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she presented her ass to me, her fingers spreading her cheeks apart. "If you want to bully someone…" she purred, her voice husky, "bully me."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Yelena's jaw dropped, her mock distress evaporating as she stared at Claire. "Claire—!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and amusement, her cheeks flushing as she took in the sight of Claire's exposed, inviting body.
Natalya let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, her hand covering her mouth as she watched the scene unfold. "Oh my God," she murmured, her eyes wide with surprise, "you little vixen."
I froze, my grip on Yelena loosening as my gaze locked onto Claire's ass, her smooth, round curves on full display, her fingers still holding herself open.
The sight was intoxicating, my cock twitching in my pants as desire flared through me. "Claire," I growled, my voice rough, "you're asking for it."
The cabin air was thick with the scent of desire—sweet, musky, intoxicating—as Claire presented her ass to me, her fingers spreading herself wide, her pussy glistening with need. "I know," she whispered, her voice breathless, "now come and give it to me."
But before I could move, Natalya and Yelena exploded in protest, their voices sharp with mock outrage and real hunger.
"Sister Claire! It's not fucking fair!" Natalya snapped, her fingers already tearing at her blouse, buttons popping as she ripped it open, her bra following seconds later. Her tits bounced free, her nipples hard and aching, her skirt and panties hitting the floor in a heap as she kicked them aside.
"If you get to have him first, I fucking do too!" she growled, her ass already presented, her fingers spreading her cheeks apart, her pussy dripping with need.
"Oh, fuck that!" Yelena hissed, her clothes flying off in seconds, her body glowing under the dim cabin lights, her ass on full display as she turned, her fingers pulling her cheeks apart, her pussy already glistening.
"If anyone's getting him first, it's me!" she declared, her eyes gleaming with determination as she crawled toward me, her hands yanking at my belt, fumbling with the button of my pants.
I didn't stop her.
With a sharp, impatient tug, she ripped my pants open, the zipper tearing as she yanked them down, my cock springing free, thick, hard, veins pulsing with need.
"Mmm—" she moaned, her eyes locking onto it, her tongue flicking over her lips as she wrapped her hand around the base, her fingers barely able to close around my girth.
"Fuck, yes—" I growled, my voice rough, possessive, as she leaned in, her lips parting as she took the head of my cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the tip, tasting the precum already beading there. "That's it, baby—" I hissed, my hands tangling in her hair, "take it all."
Yelena didn't hesitate.
Her lips stretched around my cock, her tongue pressing flat as she took me deep, her throat opening as she swallowed me whole. "Mmmph—!" she gagged, her nose pressing against my pelvis, her eyes watering as she held herself there, her throat bulging around my length.
"Fucking hell—!" I groaned, my hips jerking as she hollowed her cheeks, her tongue working the underside of my shaft, her lips sealed tight around the base.
"Just like that, slut—" I growled, my grip in her hair tightening as I fucked her mouth, my cock hitting the back of her throat with every thrust.
Claire let out a frustrated whine, her fingers sliding between her thighs, circling her clit as she watched Yelena gobble my cock. "Don't you fucking hog him, sister!" she snapped, her voice sharp with jealousy, her body aching with need.
Yelena pulled back just enough to gasp for air, her saliva dripping down my cock, her lips swollen and red. "Then come and take him, bitch!" she panted, her voice husky, before diving back down, her lips sealing around me again, her tongue swirling over the head.
"Oh, I will!" Claire growled, crawling forward, her body pressing against Yelena's side, her hand replacing Natalya's on my balls, her fingers massaging them as she leaned in to kiss me, her tongue sliding into my mouth as Yelena continued to suck me off.
Natalya wasn't about to be left out.
She dropped to her knees beside them, her tongue flicking out to lick my balls, her lips pressing kisses along the base of my cock.
"Mmm…" she moaned, her voice muffled against my skin, "you taste so fucking good, husband…" Her tongue swirled over my balls before she took one into her mouth, her lips sucking gently, her fingers rolling the other between them.
"Fuck—!" I groaned, my hands tangling in their hair, my hips bucking as they worked me together, their tongues and lips driving me wild. "Just like that—" I growled, my voice rough, "fucking perfect—!"
Yelena moaned around my cock, her throat vibrating as she took me deeper, her nose pressing against my pelvis again. "Mmmph—!" she choked, her fingers clawing at my thighs, but she didn't pull back, her moans muffled as she struggled to breathe.
Claire broke the kiss, her breath ragged, her hand sliding down to join Yelena's, her fingers wrapping around the base of my cock, stroking in time with her sister's mouth. "Look at you, slut," she panted, her voice husky, "choking on his cock like a good little whore."*
Yelena gagged again, her eyes watering, but she didn't stop, her tongue working faster, her lips sealed tight around me as she took me all the way.
"Fuck, yes—!" I groaned, my voice rough, "just like that—! Both of you—" My hands tightened in their hair, my hips bucking as pleasure surged through me, my cock throbbing in Yelena's throat.
Natalya chuckled, her tongue swirling over my balls before she took the other into her mouth, her lips sucking gently, her fingers rolling them between her tongue and palm. "Mmm—" she moaned, her voice vibrating against my skin, "you love it when we share, don't you, husband?"
"Fuck yes—!" I growled, my voice raw, "Now fucking take it—!"
And they did.
Yelena hollowed her cheeks, her lips sealed around my cock as she bobbed her head, her throat opening as she swallowed me whole.
Claire's hand stroked the base, her fingers twisting as she matched Yelena's rhythm, while Natalya licked and sucked my balls, her tongue swirling over them, her moans vibrating against my skin.
"Fuck—!" I snarled, my hands fisting in their hair, my hips jerking as they worked me together, their tongues and lips and hands driving me closer to the edge.
"That's it—" I growled, my voice rough, "fucking take it—! All of it!"
And they did.
Every. Fucking. Inch.
Yelena's face was drenched in tears, her mascara smudged as she gagged around my cock, her throat bulging obscenely with every inch I fed her.
"Mmmph—! Mmm—!" she choked, her nose pressed flat against my cock, her lips stretched taut around my girth, saliva dripping down her chin and neck. Her fingers clawed at my thighs, her nails digging in as she struggled to breathe, but she didn't pull back—she took it, her throat convulsing around me as I fucked her mouth like it was her cunt.
"Look at you," I growled, my voice a rough, possessive snarl as I tangled my fingers in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to let her gasp for air before shoving her back down.
"Choking on my cock like the filthy little slut you are." My hips slammed forward, my balls slapping against her chin as I hit the back of her throat again. "You love this, don't you?" I taunted, my voice dark with lust, "being my fucking throat-slut."
Yelena whimpered, her eyes watering as she nodded, her tongue flopping uselessly as she tried to swallow around me. "Mmmh—!" she moaned, the sound muffled by my cock, her throat fluttering as she took me deeper.
Natalya watched, her fingers paused on my balls, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of Yelena struggling to breathe around my cock, her tear-streaked face glistening with saliva and desperation.
"Fuck—" she whispered, her voice husky, "she's such a good little whore for you, husband." Her tongue flicked out, licking a slow, deliberate path up the underside of my cock, her lips following as she kissed the base, her eyes locked on Yelena's watery gaze.
But then—suddenly—Natalya pushed me back, her hands shoving against my chest with surprising force. My cock slipped out of Yelena's mouth with a wet pop, leaving her gasping, her lips swollen and glistening.
"W-what—?" Yelena stammered, her voice breathless, but Natalya didn't give her a chance to react.
In one smooth, desperate motion, Natalya straddled me, her pussy already dripping as she rubbed herself against my cock, her hips rolling as she moaned, "I can't hold back anymore..." Her voice was raw, needy, her fingers digging into my chest as she ground herself against me. "My pussy—it's itching for your cock, husband..."
But before she could sink down slowly, before she could control the pace—
"NOW!"
Yelena and Claire lunged at the same time, their hands slamming onto Natalya's hips, shoving her down with brutal, sudden force.
"MMMPH—!!" Natalya screamed as my cock RAMMED into her pussy in one violent, unrelenting thrust—not just filling her, but breaching her cervix, the head of my cock SLAMMING directly into her womb.
"AAAAAAH—!!" Her back arched like a bow, her spine snapping straight as her entire body locked up, her mouth falling open in a soundless, choking scream. "I-IT'S—!! IT'S TOO—!!"
But it was too late.
With a guttural, animalistic groan, my cock twitched—once, twice—before erupting deep inside her, jets of scorching hot cum BLASING directly into her womb. "FUCK—!!" I roared, my hands crushing her hips as I held her down, my cum pumping into her unprotected, fertile depths.
"NO—!! NO, NO, NO—!!" Natalya shrieked, her eyes rolling back, her body convulsing as she felt my cum hitting her womb, filling her in a way that burned, that ached, that made her entire existence narrow down to the raw, primitive sensation of being bred.
And then—
"Ah—!! AH—!!" A new, humiliating sensation overtook her. A hot, uncontrollable gush spurted from her pussy, soaking my balls, the bed, her own thighs—she was pissing herself, her body betraying her in the most degrading way as the intensity of the pleasure-pain shattered her control.
"I-I'M PISSING—!!" she wailed, her face burning with shame, her body trembling as the warm stream kept coming, mixing with my cum as it dripped out of her used pussy.
"Good girl," I growled, my voice a rough, possessive snarl as I ground my cock deeper, forcing every last drop of my cum into her womb. "Take it all, baby—every fucking drop."
Yelena grinned, her fingers trailing up Natalya's spine as she leaned in, her lips brushing her ear. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dark with amusement, "taking his cum so deep you lost control." Her hand slid down, her fingers circling Natalya's clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate motions. "You love it, don't you? Being his little breeding slut."
"N-No—!!" Natalya whimpered, but her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching around my cock as another wave of pleasure racked through her, her orgasm milking me dry.
Claire chuckled, her hand joining Yelena's, her fingers pressing against Natalya's clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. "You came so hard you pissed yourself," she murmured, her voice soft but mocking. "That's how good he fucks you."
Natalya sobbed, her body still trembling, her pussy pulsing around my cock as the last of my cum dripped into her womb. "I hate you all—!" she gasped, but her voice was weak, broken, her body still riding the waves of her ruined orgasm, her pussy clenching around me like it never wanted to let go.
Claire smirked, her fingers trailing up Natalya's spine before she gently pushed at her shoulder. "Okay, okay," she murmured, her voice playful but firm, "don't occupy, husband, all to yourself. It's our turn now."
Yelena chuckled, her hands joining Claire's as they tried to lift Natalya off me. "Come on, sister," she teased, her voice husky, "let us have a taste too."
Natalya whimpered, her body resisting as they pulled at her, her pussy clenching tightly around my cock—
And then—
"Nnngh—!" Natalya yelped as my cock started to slip out of her, the head catching at the entrance of her womb, her walls gripping me desperately, like her body refused to release me.
"W-Wait—!" she gasped, her fingers clawing at my chest as a sharp, unexpected pressure flared inside her. "I-I can't—!"
But it was too late.
Her body reacted on instinct—her hips slammed back down, my cock plunging deep inside her again, filling her womb in one rough, desperate thrust.
"AH—!!" Natalya cried out, her back arching as her pussy milked me instantly, her walls clenching around my cock like a vice.
Yelena's eyes widened, her hands freezing on Natalya's hips. "Uh..." she blinked, her voice laced with amusement and shock. "Are you... stuck?"
Natalya's face burned crimson, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she realized—she couldn't pull away. "N-No—!" she whimpered, her fingers digging into my skin, her pussy pulsing around me again, trapping me inside her. "I-I didn't mean to—!"
Claire burst into laughter, her hand resting on Natalya's back as she leaned in, her voice teasing. "Oh my God," she giggled, "you literally can't let go of him." Her fingers traced down Natalya's spine, her touch light but mocking. "Your pussy is holding him hostage."
"I-I hate this—!" Natalya wailed, her body trembling as she tried to lift herself again—only for her pussy to clench harder, locking me inside her womb as it belonged there.
"Fuck—" I growled, my hands gripping her hips, my cock twitching inside her tight, milking heat. "You're fucking ruining me, baby."
Yelena grinned, her fingers sliding between Natalya's thighs, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. "Looks like someone's pussy doesn't want to share," she purred, her voice dark with amusement. "Maybe we should help her... relax."
"N-No—!" Natalya whimpered, but her protest died in a moan as Yelena's fingers pressed harder, her clit throbbing under the touch. "Ah—! D-Don't—!"
"Oh, we will," Claire murmured, her lips brushing Natalya's ear as her hand joined Yelena's, her fingers rubbing Natalya's clit in tight, relentless circles. "Because if your pussy won't let go..." she whispered, her voice husky, "we'll just have to make you come again."
"NO—!!" Natalya screamed—
But her body betrayed her.
Natalya's pussy clenched harder, her walls milking my cock as another orgasm crested over her, her back arching as she screamed, her juices gushing around me, soaking my balls, the bed, everything—
And then—
Plop.
Her womb finally released me.
My cock slid out of her pussy with a wet, obscene sound, a flood of cum gushing out after it, dripping down her thighs and pooling on my crotch. Yelena and Claire didn't hesitate—their tongues darted out, licking up every drop, their lips pressing against my skin, cleaning me with hungry, eager strokes.
"Mmm..." Claire moaned, her tongue swirling over my cock, licking up the last of Natalya's juices and my cum. "So fucking good..."
Yelena chuckled, her lips brushing my thigh as she licked a slow path up to my balls, her tongue flicking over them before she pulled back with a smirk. "Mmm... sweet."
But then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Polina's voice filtered through the door, stammering, hesitant—**but loud enough to cut through the haze of lust in the room.
"B-Boss..." she called, her tone unsteady, "we're... about to land..."
The room froze.
Natalya, still lying there with her pussy dripping cum, her thighs glistening with our release, blinked slowly—then jolted upright, her face flaming crimson. "H-Hmmm—!" she hummed, her voice high-pitched and flustered as she scrambled to cover herself, her hands fumbling with her clothes.
"W-What are you two doing?!" Natalya hissed, her cheeks burning as she yanked her panties up, her skirt following in a frantic rush. "Wear your clothes! We're about to land!" Her fingers trembled as she buttoned her blouse, her eyes darting to the door like Polina might burst in at any second, her voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "If she sees us like this—!"
Yelena grinned, licking her lips as she slowly pulled her panties back on, her voice teasing. "Oh, Sister..." she purred, "are you embarrassed?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she watched Natalya scramble, her fingers lingering on her lips like she could still taste me.
"N-No!" Natalya squeaked, her face burning as she glared at her. "I-I'm not—! Just—hurry!" She shot a desperate look at Claire, who was adjusting her skirt with a smirk, unfazed by the chaos.
I chuckled, tucking my shirt in as I zipped up my pants, my voice low and amused. "Relax, boss," I murmured, "Polina's heard worse." But the way Natalya's face flamed even redder told me she wasn't convinced.
Finally—finally—we were all decent. Natalya took a deep, shaky breath, smoothing her hair before marching toward the door, her chin lifted in an attempt to regain her composure. "Let's go," she snapped, her voice sharp, though the tremor in it betrayed her.
We stepped out of the cabin, and the moment we did, I noticed it—
Polina. Irene. The others.
All of them sat in their seats, their faces flushed, their eyes darting away the second they met ours. Polina's hands were clenched in her lap, her posture rigid, like she was trying—and failing—to pretend she hadn't heard a thing.
Natalya's back stiffened. "Ahem," she cleared her throat, her voice forcing itself into authority, though her cheeks were still pink. "Everything alright?"
Polina nodded quickly, too quickly, her voice strained. "Y-Yes, Boss. All secure." Her eyes flicked to me for a split second before snapping back to Natalya. "Just... preparing for landing."
"Good," Natalya said, her tone clipped, as she took her seat, her fingers tightening around the armrests. "Then let's proceed."
Yelena smirked, leaning over to whisper in my ear as we sat. "Oh, they definitely heard something," she purred, her voice husky with amusement.
Claire chuckled, adjusting her seatbelt as she glanced at the others. "I wonder what they think they heard," she murmured, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
I grinned, leaning back in my seat as the plane touched down, the wheels hitting the runway with a smooth, firm thud. "Oh, I'm sure they have ideas," I murmured, my voice low enough for only us to hear.
The moment the plane stopped, the door opened, and the cool night air rushed in. Waiting outside were the cars, sleek and black, their engines already humming.
Natalya stepped out first, her posture regal, her face a mask of composure—though I knew the truth. The way her thighs pressed together just slightly, the way her breath hitched when she walked, betrayed the ache still lingering between her legs, the raw, throbbing reminder of how hard she'd come—how deep I'd fucked her. The faint flush on her cheeks, the tremor in her fingers as she adjusted her skirt, told me everything.
We drove directly toward our villa, the cars gliding smoothly through the winding roads, the estate looming ahead, bathed in soft, golden lights. The moment we pulled up, the front doors swung open, and there they were—
Julie was the first to spot me.
"Husband!" she cried, her face lighting up as she rushed forward, throwing herself into my arms. "You're finally back!" she murmured, her voice warm, relieved, as she pressed her body against mine, her arms wrapping around my neck. "I missed you..." Her lips brushed my cheek, her scent—sweet, familiar—filling my senses as she pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes gleaming with affection.
Behind her, the others stood—Haruna, her arms crossed but her lips curved in a smirk; Isabella, her gaze soft but knowing; Hannah, her cheeks pink as she waved shyly; and Freya, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she leaned against the doorframe, watching us with amusement.
"Welcome home," Haruna called, her voice dry but affectionate, "though I hope you didn't exhaust yourself too much on the trip." Her eyes flicked to Natalya, who stiffened just slightly, her cheeks flushing deeper.
Julie pulled back, her hands resting on my chest as she glanced at the others, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Did you bring us presents?" she teased, her eyes sparkling.
I chuckled, my arm wrapping around her waist as I pulled her closer. "Oh, I brought something," I murmured, my voice low, my gaze flicking to Natalya, whose expression shifted from composed to flustered in an instant.
"Husband!" Julie laughed, swatting my chest playfully, though her eyes gleamed with curiosity.