Chapter 51 051

Chapter 51 051
Natasha

"This is delicious, Seraphina," I said, taking another bite of the roasted chicken. "You've outdone yourself."

Seraphina beamed from across the table. "It's nothing special, really. Just something I managed to whip up."

We were having dinner together, the four of us, which had become something of a weekly tradition.

Dimitri sat at the head of the table with Seraphina to his right, while Mikhail and I sat across from them.

It was meant to be a family meal, a chance to discuss strategy and build camaraderie away from the usual pressures of leading the pack.

If only they knew what Mikhail and I had been doing to each other every chance we got.

"The potatoes are perfectly seasoned." Dimitri added, reaching for Seraphina's hand. The gesture was so natural and easy. They could touch each other freely and show affection without fear.

I felt something brush against my ankle and nearly jumped.

"Are you alright?" Seraphina asked, noticing my reaction.

"Fine," I said quickly. "Just a cramp. I've been on my feet all day in the healing quarters."

Mikhail's foot pressed more firmly against mine under the table, and I shot him a warning look.

He ignored it completely, taking a sip of wine with an innocent expression that was absolutely infuriating.

"We should make sure you're not overworking yourself," Dimitri said, concerned. "How many patients did you see today?"

"Maybe fifteen or so? Nothing too serious, thankfully. A few training injuries, some minor illnesses,"

I tried to focus on the conversation, but Mikhail's foot had started sliding up my calf.

"The worst was probably John. He managed to dislocate his shoulder during drills."

"John always manages to hurt himself in the most dramatic ways possible," Mikhail commented, and his voice was perfectly normal, like he wasn't currently trailing his foot higher up my leg.

"Remember last month when he somehow gave himself a black eye with his own shield?"

Dimitri chuckled. "How does someone even manage that?"

"He finds a way," Seraphina said with a laugh. "He's dedicated, I'll give him that."

Mikhail's foot reached my knee and I took a long drink of wine, trying to steady myself.

His foot pushed between my thighs gently at first, asking permission.

Instead of closing my legs or kicking him, I shifted slightly, giving him access, and watched his eyes darken with satisfaction.

"Natasha, I wanted to ask your opinion on something," Dimitri said, and I forced myself to focus on him.

"We're planning a raid on a supply convoy next week, and I'm concerned about having enough medical support if things go wrong. Do you think you could train a few more soldiers in basic field medicine?"

"Of course," I managed, even as Mikhail's foot pressed higher, the pressure making heat pool between my legs.

"I've been meaning to do that anyway. We can never have too many people who know how to stop bleeding or treat shock."

"Excellent. Maybe you and Mikhail could coordinate? Since he'll be leading the raid."

"We can definitely coordinate." Mikhail said, and there was the slightest edge of amusement in his voice.

His foot rubbed against my inner thigh, and I realized with horror that I could feel the heat of it through my dress, because I wasn't wearing anything underneath.

He had told me not to earlier today, after he had fucked me.

"Don't wear panties to dinner tonight," He had whispered in my ear. "I want to know you're bare under that dress."

I thought he was just being possessive and saying it to turn me on. I hadn't realized he had plans.

"Are you feeling alright, Natasha?" Seraphina asked, studying me. "You look flushed."

"It's warm in here," I said, fanning myself with my napkin. "Maybe I should open a window."

"Let me." Mikhail said, starting to stand.

"No!" I said too quickly, and everyone looked at me. "I mean, don't trouble yourself. I'm fine. Really."

His foot pushed higher, and I could feel it through the thin fabric of my dress, pressing against where I was already embarrassingly wet.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to hurt.

"You've barely touched your food," Dimitri observed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Just thinking about all the work I need to do tomorrow," I lied. Mikhail's toes found the apex of my thighs and I had to disguise my gasp as a cough. "Excuse me. Sorry."

"Drink some water." Seraphina suggested kindly.

I did, grateful for something to do with my hands. Mikhail was going to pay for this. As soon as I got him alone, I was going to—

His foot pressed directly against my clit through my dress and my hand jerked, nearly spilling water everywhere.

"Natasha—"

"I'm sorry," I said, setting the glass down carefully. My voice sounded strange even to my own ears. "I think I need to use the washroom. Excuse me for a moment."

I stood quickly, smoothing my dress down, and walked as steadily as I could toward the hallway. My legs felt weak and I could feel how wet I was with each step.

This was insane. We were at dinner with our brother and Seraphina. This was exactly the kind of recklessness that would get us caught.

But fuck, I was so turned on I could barely think straight.

I made it to the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it. My heart was pounding and I could feel my pulse between my legs.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, lips parted.

I looked like someone who had been getting quietly finger-fucked under a dinner table. Which was essentially what had happened, just with his foot instead.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm down. I needed to get myself under control before I went back out there.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Occupied." I called.

"It's me." Mikhail's voice was low and urgent. "Let me in."

"Are you insane? They'll know."

"Let me in, Natasha."

I unlocked the door and he slipped inside immediately, closing and locking it behind him. We stared at each other for a moment in the small space.

He kissed me before I could even think of speaking, backing me against the sink. His hands went to my thighs, pushing my dress up.

"We can't," I breathed against his mouth. "They're right down the hall."

"Then you better be quiet," He spun me around so I was facing the mirror, my hands braced on the sink. "Watch yourself."

I looked at our reflections, me bent over the sink, him behind me, his hands on my hips. I looked wrecked already, and he hadn't even fucked me yet.

"Mikhail, this is too risky."

"You're dripping," He interrupted, one hand sliding between my legs to prove his point. "You've been sitting there soaking wet this whole dinner, haven't you?"

I couldn't deny it. His fingers slipped through my wetness and I bit my lip to stay quiet.

"I felt how hot you were," He murmured, undoing his belt. "How wet. You loved it, didn't you? Me touching you while our brother sat right there."

"Yes." I admitted in a whisper.

"Keep watching." He positioned himself and pushed inside in one hard thrust.

I had to clamp my hand over my own mouth to muffle the sound that wanted to escape.

He filled me completely and I watched in the mirror as my eyes went wide, my face flushing deeper.

"That's it," He breathed, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. "Watch yourself get fucked."

He set a punishing pace, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to leave bruises, the other sliding up my back to my shoulder for leverage.

Every thrust pushed me against the sink and I had to brace myself to keep from making noise.

"You look so beautiful like this," He said, his voice strained. "Taking my cock while trying to stay silent."

I watched us in the mirror. My body jerked with each thrust and his face showed raw need and possession.

It was intimate and so fucking hot, I could barely stand it.

"Touch yourself." He commanded quietly.

My hand slid between my legs and I found my clit, already swollen and sensitive. The angle was awkward bent over like this, but I managed, circling it with shaking fingers.

"That's my good girl," He breathed. "Make yourself come on my cock."

His pace increased and I had to bite down on my other hand to keep quiet. The sounds of our bodies meeting seemed so loud in the small bathroom and I knew anyone walking by would hear.

That thought should have scared me but instead it sent another surge of arousal through me. I rubbed myself harder and faster, chasing my orgasm.

"Look at yourself," Mikhail said, his voice rough. "Watch yourself come."

I watched my face contort with pleasure, watched the way my mouth opened in a silent cry as my orgasm hit. My whole body tensed and I felt myself clench around him, waves of pleasure rolling through me.

He covered my mouth with his hand just in time, muffling the sound I couldn't quite contain. His other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against him as he thrust deep and came inside me with a muffled groan against my neck.

We stayed like that for a moment, both breathing hard, his hand still over my mouth. In the mirror, we looked thoroughly fucked, hair messed, clothes askew and faces flushed.

Slowly, he removed his hand and pulled out of me. I could feel his cum starting to leak down my thigh.

"Clean yourself up," He said quietly, already tucking himself back into his pants. "I'll go back first. Wait a few minutes."

"They're going to know," I said, looking at my reflection. "Look at me."

"Splash water on your face. Fix your hair." He kissed my neck softly. "You'll be fine."

"This can't happen again. Not like this."

"Liar," He met my eyes in the mirror. "You loved every second of it."

I did. God help me, I did.

He unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving me alone to make myself presentable. I cleaned up as best I could, fixed my hair, smoothed my dress.

My reflection still looked like someone who had just been thoroughly fucked, but there wasn't much I could do about that.

When I returned to the table a few minutes later, Mikhail was calmly eating his dinner like nothing had happened.

"Feeling better?" Seraphina asked.

"Much better," I said, taking my seat. "Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," Dimitri said warmly. "We're just glad you're alright."

Under the table, Mikhail's foot found mine again, gentle this time. A reminder. A promise.

I was going to kill him, right after I let him fuck me again.