My Russian Stepbrothers
Table of Contents
My Russian Stepbrothers
About the Book
My Russian Stepbrothers
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Part Two
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Three
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Author's Note
My Russian Billionaire
Love You Again
I know I'm lucky, to have three of the hottest Russian guys in town as my doting (but often overprotective) stepbrothers.
And I know, I really do understand that I sohuldn't jeopardize what I have. What we have. A big, beautiful house. A happy family. A promising future.
But then I see him. I look at him. And I just can't help wanting him, even knowing it's forbidden.
Vassi.
I love him so much. Need him. Want him.
Even though I know one day, he'd fall for another girl, and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
Note:
This book was previously published as a three-part trilogy, namely When I Moan, When I Hurt, and When I Love. This is the complete story. No cliffhangers!
Reverse harem in shoujo manga typically means that the heroine is loved or lavishly doted upon by at least three men in her life. Not all of these men, however, may feel romantic love for her. It can be a different kind of love (e.g. filial), and there is rarely any menage involved.
My type of reverse harem follows this pattern, so please expect my heroine to enjoy the most delicious shows of affection from her hot Russian stepbrothers, but at the end of the day her happy-ever-after with just one of them. Hope you can give it a try!
About the Book
It was a day of many firsts for Seri.
Her first day in college, her first class with Vassi, and the first day since...that time.
With Seri seated alone at the last row, it was just Seri and Vassi sharing the long console table as he slid into the vacant seat on her left. Darkness allowed him to escape detection, everyone too busy watching the video tutorial playing in front.
If the lights had been on, it would have been different of course. All the girls would have gone crazy at the knowledge that Vassi Grachyov was with them.
Vassi! Grachyov! In! The! Flesh!
Seri had seen it happen too many times to count.
She felt him move his chair closer to her, and she resisted the urge to move her seat away from him.
D’err mo.
She sucked at this.
She had been the one to force him into being her boyfriend and—-
“Still not going to look my way, solnishka moya?” The words were whispered straight into her ear, and Seri nearly fell off her chair.
Bo zheh moy. Oh my God, but what was that?
How was it that his mere voice was enough to turn her on now?
This close, she could smell his aftershave, could feel his breath fanning her skin. He leaned even closer, his arm resting at the back of her chair.
“Maybe you should think twice about this.”
“No,” she hissed under her breath. Even without looking at him, she could feel him smirking, and she was torn between wanting to kick him under the table and—-
An idea crystallized in her mind, and she found herself unable to let go of it.
She could do it. She was going to do it. She really was, and it would teach him to underestimate her.
So yes, she would do it.
She would.
Vassi started to move away, still smirking, and it was both irritating and sexy, the way he seemed capable of reading her every mind—-
Seri took a deep breath and just did it.
She touched his knee under the desk.
Ha!
Triumph filled her as she succeeded in making the first move, and her body trembled at the feel of his knee under her fingers. Seri glanced at Vassi, and the faint light coming from the glow of the projection allowed her to see his face, which was...bland.
Huh?
He raised a brow. “That’s it?”
Her lips parted and closed.
B’lyad.
She really sucked at this, and color flooded her cheeks as she realized that what seemed like such an incredible achievement for her was probably child’s play for someone as experienced as Vassi. They might only be a year apart in age, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that the difference between his level of experience and hers could be measured the same way.
Angry and humiliated, she started to pull her hand away, but his hand suddenly covered hers.
Her gaze jerked to his. “Let go!”
“What’s wrong?” His lips curved. “We’re just getting started.” He picked her hand up.
“Shut—-” But she found herself choking instead, unable to believe what Vassi had just done.
Or made her do.
Whatever.
The point was, her hand was now on...his...dick.
Her eyes flew to him in shock. Was he serious? They were in class, and they were not alone!
And as if to answer her, Vassi slowly started to move her hand up and down his dick. His eyes still held hers captive, gleaming with cruel pleasure. Yes, he was serious. Yes, he knew they were in class, they were not alone, and wasn’t that goddamn exciting?
Her breath hitched, and she wanted to bang her head against the table. She really sucked at this. She was supposed to be the one seducing him, blackmailing him, and yet it was the opposite.
Vassi’s hand tightened around hers as he pushed her to move her hand faster. His dick was longer and harder, thicker, too, than she imagined, and the knowledge that she was holding it—-
Holy Mother of Russian Miracles, she was holding Vassi’s dick—-
She wanted to moan and whimper, she wanted to open and close her legs at the same time, the wetness soaking her panties making her ache with a strange kind of need to be filled.
When his dick twitched in her hold, her fingers involuntarily tightened around his arousal, and she heard him hiss.
It was the most beautiful sound—-
The lights opened.
“Does anyone have questions?” the professor in front asked.
That, on the other hand, was the most awful sound she had ever heard. It was the sound of knowing they could be discovered any moment, of people realizing that she was giving her stepbrother a hand job in public—-
Panicking, she tried tugging her hand away, but instead he only made her hand stroke him faster. He still had his arm on
the back of her chair, but he was facing the professor, his posture entirely relaxed.
Nothing in his demeanor gave him away—-
And yet, under the table, she could feel his dick growing between her fingers, could feel it throbbing almost violently——
Seri heard him say between clenched teeth, “Faster.”
And somehow, she couldn’t stop herself, stroking him as fast as she could while she squeezed him hard, drawing every little lesson of seduction she could from all the hentai videos she had watched.
In the corner of her eye, she saw Vassi stiffen in his seat, just before he started to cum.
Oooooooh.
She hurriedly covered her mouth with her free hand before her moan escaped her.
B’lyad.
That sound—-
She squeezed her eyes shut as the sound of his pleasure played over and over in her mind.
She had made her stepbrother, Vassi, come with her hand.
And Holy Mother of Russia, but instead of feeling dirty, she just wanted...more.
The bell rang, and everyone started to stand up. Vassi grabbed her wrist and before she knew what was happening, he already had her out of the classroom, and they were walking away.
“I can’t believe you made me do that,” she hissed at him even as she struggled to keep up with his pace.
“You shouldn’t be complaining.” He smirked down at her. “Wasn’t that the point of this entire arrangement?” He bent down and without missing a step, he bit the outer lobe of her ear, whispering, “This is how I am as a boyfriend, solnishka moya.”
Argh!
She tripped over her own feet, making Vassi laughingly stop as he helped Seri regain her balance. She looked up, but before she could speak, he shook his head at her. “Give it up, leech.” His tone was light, but his gaze held a warning in it. “This blackmailing thing isn’t you, and in the end...only one of us will get hurt.”
My Russian Stepbrothers
BY
MARIAN TEE
*This book was previously published as a three-part trilogy, namely When I Moan, When I Hurt, and When I Love.
Copyright 2020 by Streak Digital Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
Part One
Chapter One
Four years ago
Misha Grachyov absently walked down the hallway, his gaze trained on the medical journal he was reading. Tall, dark-haired, and silver-eyed, he made head turns whenever he went, and with his imposing height and hard-hewn body, he looked more like a Cossack warrior than anything else.
Or at least Cossack warriors who also happened to wear glasses and a lab coat over his school uniform.
“Hey, Misha.”
“Hi, Misha.”
“Good morning, Misha.”
Both male and female students he walked past were eager to greet the town’s hottest nerd, half out of sheer admiration and infatuation, the other half in hopes of exploiting a friendship with any of the Grachyov brothers. The Grachyovs were the wealthiest family in this side of California, and everyone knew that each son was slated to inherit at least a billion dollars from their Russian magnate father.
Misha walked past all of them without a glance.
Everyone silently sighed in disappointment, all of them having secretly hoped they’d be the one to break Misha’s legendary concentration. A moment later, the sighs turned into scowls and glares when they saw their target slow down in front of Room 1C.
They had hoped the rumors about the Grachyov brothers weren’t true, but now that Seri Devereaux was in high school with them, there was no escaping reality.
Misha Grachyov had a sister complex.
****
Seri rushed out of her classroom the moment she saw who was waiting outside. What was he doing here?
A small group of girls had formed a circle around Misha by the time she reached him. They were all fawning over her brother, flirting with their gazes and cooing words, but Misha appeared oblivious to them all.
She tapped Misha on the shoulder. “Hey, Misha.”
He looked up right away, as if her voice was the only sound his ears recognized, and Seri could feel the other girls glaring harder at her back.
“Seri.” He smiled down at her. And then he blinked, as if only seeing the girls around them for the first time. He smiled at them, too, and the girls sighed. Out loud.
Seri mentally shook her head. Misha was so clueless. If he weren’t her stepbrother, she would have thought he was faking it. But because she had known him since she was five and had lived with him and the other boys since she was eleven, Seri knew it was real.
Misha was the hottest and most clueless nerd there was.
Ever.
“So, umm, what are you doing here?” Aside from ruining her plans of becoming anonymous, she added silently. She had hoped high school would be different, and that maybe – just maybe – no one would know she was the Grachyov’s little sister. She had even left home ahead of her brothers, opting to walk to school rather than sharing a ride with them.
But all her efforts were useless now of course.
She wanted to get mad at Misha, but how could she, the way he was ruffling her hair with a fond smile on his face?
“Do I need a reason to see my little dove?” Misha teased.
Seri mentally cringed, knowing his pet name would just make the girls more jealous of her. She opened her mouth to tell him that he wasn’t ever to call her ‘little dove’ in public, if he still wanted her to live, but then she saw the affection in Misha’s silvery gaze—-
Seri said weakly, “”I’m happy to see you, too.” She could feel the number of glares that was being sent her way doubling as she spoke.
Yup, she thought morosely. I’m definitely going to get bullied again.
He raised his hand, lifting something up at eye level. “I also came here to give you this.”
Guilt singed her cheeks when she saw what he was holding. “Sorry,” Seri mumbled as she took her lunchbox from Misha. She knew how much work Fyodor put in every day, personally preparing her lunch, and this despite the fact that her stepfather had a full-time chef in his employ. It was a probably a Russian thing, the way they took deathbed promises a little too seriously. As part of his vow of being both Seri’s Mama and Papa, Fyodor had committed to doing everything Marianna used to do for her daughter.
Like, everything, to the point of even taking online classes for the art of bento making.
“I’ll text Papa later, I promise,” Seri told Misha.
He patted her head. “Don’t forget your lunch next time, da?”
She nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.
But unfortunately, it wasn’t.
Misha actually leaned back against the doorframe, looking like he didn’t mind spending forever with her.
Which was great and all, Seri thought, if there didn’t happen to be scores of other girls in the same hallway, all wanting a piece of Misha...as much as they wanted to tear her into pieces.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Aren’t you worried you’ll be late for class?”
Misha only shrugged. “Not really.”
Right. She had forgotten about the teensy weensy fact that Misha could have graduated high school at thirteen. Only he didn’t—-
“I wish the school would reconsider letting me sit in with your class,” Misha grumbled.
Because of that.
Misha had a huge sister complex over her, to the point that he had been okay with twiddling his thumbs in high school just to spend more time with Seri.
“It’s unfair that Sergei gets to teach your class while I get stuck with only seeing my cut
e little sister during breaks—-”
She said uneasily, “Umm, Misha—-”
“And Vassi’s the lucky bastard because—-”
The school bell rang, cutting him off.
Thank you, Mother of Russia!
Trying not to show relieved she was, she said, “I gotta go, Misha. Class is about to start.”
Misha reluctantly pushed himself off the doorway. “Will you be meeting with your voice coach later?”
“Err, no. Why?”
“Great.” Misha’s grin had the girls behind Seri giggling.
“I can have lunch with you and Davey then.” The giggles stopped, and the intense scowling resumed, enough to burn a hole at Seri’s back.
He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead.
Derr mo. That meant ‘shit’ in Russian.
“See ya, little dove.”
Srat. This still meant shit.
Seri tried to creep back to her seat as inconspicuously as possible, but it was no use. As she got to her seat, another student deliberately shoved her from behind, snarling under her breath, “Die, you bitch.”
And so it begins, Seri thought with a silent sigh, just another day in her not-so-ordinary life as stepsister to the Grachyov brothers.
****
First period was Business Math, something unique to their school because it aimed for its students to be responsible Fortune 500 heirs. It was, however, a subject Seri didn’t look forward to, and not just because she was abysmal with numbers.
Students rushed to their seats when Professor Alexeyev came in, followed moments later by his aide, the nineteen-year-old Sergei Grachyov. The two were nearly identical, being both tall dark-haired men with the same impeccable taste in suits.
“Everyone, open your book to page 15,” the professor said as he took his seat. Without looking up from his book, the professor continued, “Graded recitation for today.”
A cry of protest rose from the class.
He looked up. “What’s wrong? Did I forget to tell you about this?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I did, didn’t I?” He smiled languidly. “It’s a surprise then.”
The class groaned.
Professor Alexeyev glanced at his aide. “Sergei, call out the five students with the lowest scores in last week’s quiz.”