Page 82 of Deviant Need

Our mother rushes up to me the second she spots us and pulls me into a tight hug. “Daniil, I’m so happy you two came,” she says.

I’m happy to see you too.

She pats Mikhail on his cheeks before he walks off to sit down.

Her black hair is braided up in an elegant bun today, and she’s wearing a dark green dress. Yulian sits at the table, looking very pissed off. Lev is already deep in conversation with our father, both glancing our way before returning to business.

“Will you take a look at my computer before you leave? It’s doing something funny again.”

I can. I’ll fix it.

I know exactly where this is going. Every time I’m here, she’s managed to do something to her laptop that requires my help. Last time it was because she didn’t know how to turn off caps lock. Before that, she accidentally changed to touch-only mode on her screen and thought the laptop was broken.

I squeeze her hand, then walk off and sit down next to Mikhail, reaching for my fork.

“So, how’s the club coming along?” Father asks Mikhail while cutting into his food.

“Good. Everything is ready for the event.”

Our father doesn’t look up from his plate. “Define good.”

“Numbers are up, regulars are coming back more often, and⁠—”

“I didn’t ask for a sales pitch. I asked what good means. Are you hitting targets or not?”

Mikhail shifts in his seat. “We’re close. Point five percent under projections but⁠—”

“Point five percent under is not acceptable. Point five percent under is failing.” Father finally looks up, those cold eyes fixed on him.

Mikhail’s jaw tightens. “I’ve been handling other things, like the event.”

“Other things.” Father sets down his fork. “You mean your drug problem.”

The table goes quiet except for the sound of Lev clearing his throat uncomfortably.

He’s the biggest asshole alive. Point five percent. Ridiculous.

Rolling my eyes, I slip my hand under the table onto his thigh. He turns to me, confused, but then I reach his crotch and squeeze. He groans low in his throat and leans back in the chair.

“I assume you’re also responsible for the shipment and security issue at the dock.”

Mikhail’s eyes flick to Lev for a split second before he answers. “Da. My bad.”

I stare at him. Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep taking the blame for things he didn’t do?

The table stretches out enormous and dark between us all, dim overhead lighting making it harder to see beneath the surface. Our mother sits at one end, our father at the other, with Lev and Yulian positioned directly opposite us on the far side.

It could seat fifteen easily. The low light from the chandelier casts everything in shadow, perfect cover. My hand stays below where no one can see, where I can touch and grip and work him over however I want. No one ever watches me anyway. I’m the one they overlook, who blends into the background.

He’s already half-hard under my hand, and I squeeze, feeling him swell against my palm. Then I unbutton him, and slide down his zipper, slowly dragging it down. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t stop me. I reach into his pants and wrap my hand around his cock, pulling him out under the table. He’s hot and hard, already leaking, and the weight of him in my palm makes my own cock throb.

“We have operations set in place now, after the attack,” Lev cuts in. “Triple security everywhere.”

“Like that will stop anything,” Yulian says flatly.

I stroke him slowly, base to tip, spreading the precum down his length with my thumb. His jaw clenches and his breathing goes shallow, chest rising and falling just a fraction faster. My own cock is already rock-hard in my pants, straining against the zipper.

“Triple security means nothing if we look incompetent,” Roman says coldly. “The Nozares see weakness, they push harder.”