The Russian

by Renee Rose

  “Do you have time before you play tonight?”

  Lucy nodded mutely.

  Yuri squeezed her against his side. “Where should she meet you?” he prompted, since her brain had taken a vacay from the shock.

  “Club Amnesia, 10 p.m. You’re on at eleven, right?”

  “Right.” Lucy found her voice. “Ten sounds good. I’ll meet you there.”

  Chelsea handed her a business card. “Here’s my phone number and email if you need to change plans or if we have trouble finding each other.” She flashed a model-esque smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  After Chelsea walked away, Lucy went limp, leaning against Yuri’s hold.

  He touched her nose. “Great news, moye solnishko.”

  She beamed up at him, hardly believing her luck. No one had ever taken her interest in DJing seriously. Her parents had considered it a waste of her education and a downright dangerous interest, since it put her in nightclubs every night. Her brother thought it fluffy and foolish, the thing she did before she got serious about her life. Only Yuri—a man who admitted himself he had no interest in music—observed how much it meant to her. He was the only one who thought she had real talent, who wanted her to keep doing what she loved. And hell, having his support was enough. But she couldn’t help thinking that having a mention in Rolling Stone would legitimize her chosen profession to her parents and the rest of the naysayers. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Who cared?

  Yuri understood. And that was enough. He’d made her the center of his compass, and in turn, he’d become hers.

  She lifted her face to him and he took the hint, capturing the back of her head to hold her in place for a possessive kiss.

  “I need you,” he murmured against her lips. “I can’t stand watching all those motherfuckers ogle your hot little yoga body when you’re standing up there. And I get such a hard on, I feel like I’m going to die.”

  Her laugh came out husky. “Well, we’d better go take care of that.”

  “Yes. I will keep you prisoner all afternoon.” He led her off the beach to the walkway with a hand on her lower back. “All the way until your interview tonight.”

  “Did you have anything to do with that interview?” She had to ask. Yuri seemed to be a man capable of almost anything.

  “No.” The surprise in his voice seemed genuine. “You did that. All you. Your talent. Your spirit. Your energy.”

  She stole a glance at him from under her lashes. “Would you tell me if you had?”

  One corner of his lips lifted. “Maybe not. But I never lie to you, Lucya. Trust me on that.”

  She stopped walking to lean on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “I love you, Yuri.” The words slipped out, easy as pie, yet it was the first time she’d spoken them. She realized, with a start, they were true. They didn’t hold the heaviness of a promise, or the weight of a yoke. They felt light and honest.

  Like when she’d asked Yuri to take her to Ibiza, an agonized pleasure washed over his expression. Within seconds, she found herself shoved up against a nearby building, her legs wrapped around Yuri’s waist as he devoured her with his mouth, kissing, biting, sucking her lips, neck and shoulder.

  “You love me, you love me,” he chanted. “Is it true, moye solnishko? Do you?”

  She nodded happily, like a woman telling her husband she’d discovered she was pregnant. “It’s true.”

  He hadn’t told her the same, but she didn’t have to ask. He’d shown her every minute of every day. He watched her with those intelligent, blue eyes, absorbing every detail about her—what she liked, who she didn’t, and orchestrated their days accordingly. Everything he did was to make her happy. And he was damn good at it, too.

  “I love you,” she repeated.

  A stream of Russian came from his lips. He kissed her again. “I need you,” he groaned for the second time against her mouth.

  “So you said. Come on,” she urged gently. “We’re almost at the apartment.”

  He pulled her away from the wall, but didn’t lower her feet to the ground, instead hitching her up to sit on his hip, like a koala bear baby on its mother. She laughed as he took off with swift, determined steps toward their apartment.

  “Mine,” he growled, as if to himself, and she laughed again. He’d been making that claim in the bedroom since the day they arrived, but now, instead of an assertion, he sounded as if he truly believed it.

  “Yes, yours.”

  Yuri looked up at her, his handsome face split into a wide grin.

  “Yours,” she murmured again, her heart overflowing with love. The rare, unexplainable love that she hadn’t thought existed outside of romance novels and fairy tales. Yuri had given it to her. Her crazy Russian.

  The End

  Bonus: Deleted Scene

  From the author

  I reworked this story and removed a sex scene. Not wanting to waste a perfectly delicious interaction, I’ve leaving it here for your enjoyment. If you read the version of this story originally published in Hero Undercover, I’d love to here what you thought about the changes. Email me at: Reneeroseauthor@gmail.com to let me know!

  This scene comes after Lucy asks Yuri to take her to Ibiza and they go back to her apartment...

  He took her keys from her and opened the door, then ushered her inside like a man starved for her.

  The moment he’d locked the door behind them, he sprang to life, all his contained passion pouring out. He claimed her mouth, tongue sweeping between her lips at the same time as he lifted her to straddle his waist. His lips twisted over hers, consuming her.

  He carried her to her bedroom and laid her down.Yuri shoved her knees apart. “I’ve been dying to eat this pussy from the first moment I saw you,” he growled before licking a line from her anus to her clit.

  She jerked at the shock of it but he pinned her in place, applying his tongue with an alacrity she wouldn’t have believed possible.

  “Where do you want my tongue, baby?”

  Her face grew warm as she realized the simultaneous shame and desire his tongue on her anus had produced.

  “Here?” He swirled it over that tight ring of muscles and she cried out. “Or here?” He made his tongue stiff and penetrated her pussy. “How about here?” He flicked her clit three times, then suctioned his mouth over the little nubbin and sucked hard.

  She shrieked, yanking on her immobilized hands. She would have thrashed her hips if he didn’t have her completely pinned.

  “Which one, baby?”

  “A-all of them.” She wanted him to lick her everywhere, to drive her mad with that talented tongue of his.

  He made a satisfied sound in his throat and repeated his first move of licking the long line up her perineum. When he swirled his tongue around her clit, her cries grew more urgent. He shoved two fingers inside her and stroked her G-spot while sucking on her clit.

  She screamed, her chest arching away from the bed because her hips wouldn’t move. Her thighs clamped down on Yuri’s ears and her inner walls quaked as she came all over his fingers.

  Thirty seconds, tops.

  That’s how fast he’d made her come. The man was a certified sex genius.

  When he lifted his head, his expression was no less intense than it had been when they’d started. “This time, Lucya, I will keep you up all night.”

  And without asking if she wanted more or waiting for a response, he rolled her to her belly and delivered a sharp slap to her ass.

  “Ow, Yuri!” She reached back to protect her ass, but he caught her wrist and pinned it to her lower back. Her other cheek received a similar treatment.

  “You wanted to know how I could make a woman like her spanking.”

  She wanted to deny it, was annoyed enough at the pain of the slaps that she considered fighting back, but her pussy throbbed with excitement. Her recent orgasm had done nothing to minimize the thrill of her new position.

  He spanked her again, apparently not holding back.

  “Ow, Yur
i—that hurts!”

  “Da, solnishko. I want you to remember where I’ve been.” He smacked her ass again, then slapped between her legs, spanking her pussy.

  “Yuri!”

  “A little less fear when you scream my name, solnishko. I’ll never give you more than you can take. Do you believe that?”

  She lay there, her bottom clenching and releasing in anticipation of another spank, but it didn’t fall. And she found herself… disappointed. “You’re a controlling bastard.”

  He leaned over and kissed one of her tingling butt cheeks as he stroked along her honeyed slit.

  “And you’re wetter than you were when I was eating you. Which do you like better, having your ass spanked,” —he delivered another loud smack— “or being restrained?”

  Which did she like better? They were one and the same, really. The thrill of having control wrested from her, of surrendering to the will of another, even when that involved pain.

  He spanked her again and again, and it hurt in the most satisfying way, each slap first biting, then tingling and warming the surface of her ass while her core turned molten.

  After a dozen or so smacks, he rubbed her ass, kneading roughly. “Good girl, Lucya.” He leaned over her, molding his body to hers as his hand snaked around the front of her hips to cup her mons.

  “I want to fuck this perfect pussy now. Would you like that?” He bit the shell of her ear as his middle finger tapped her clit.

  “Mmm,” was all she could manage.

  “If you want your pussy fucked, roll over and spread your legs wide.”

  Even in his most dominant moments, he gave her the freedom of a choice. And she loved him for it. He released her and she scrambled onto her back and parted her thighs. It seemed like once with Yuri was never enough.

  “Clothes off,” she rasped.

  “What?” He paused in the act of ripping open a condom.

  “I want your clothes off.” If he could make demands, so could she.

  One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He worked down the buttons on his shirt and parted the two sides. “You, too.” He lifted his chin at her before peeling off his undershirt. His chest was sculpted beauty, covered in tattoos, some crude, some more artistic. She wondered if they held meaning for him.

  She hadn’t moved, too caught up in staring at his muscled torso.

  “If I have to undress you, you’ll get another spanking.”

  Her pussy clenched. Did she want another spanking? Why, yes, she actually might. She certainly wanted him to undress her.

  His face split into an uncharacteristic grin when she didn’t move. “So,” he rumbled. “That’s how it is?” He dropped his pants and boxer briefs. His manhood stood proud, bobbing in her direction.

  She stared at it, tongue wetting her lips.

  “You tease me.” He grasped her hips and pulled her toward him, then flicked the button on her jean skirt. He tossed the skirt over his shoulder. Her tank top went in the opposite direction, toward the head of the bed. The hot pink bra he wrapped around her wrists, tying it into a knot with a satisfied smirk. “Now, the spanking.”

  She’d played docile up until then, but now she picked up a foot to kick him.

  He captured both her ankles and held them together in one hand, lifting them high above her head. It pulled her somewhere between the yoga plow position and candlestick pose, her ass lifted in the air and angled toward him.

  He spanked her and she shrieked at the vulnerability of the position, her pussy exposed and bulging between her thighs, fully accessible to his punishing hand. He didn’t miss the opportunity, either. He spanked her buttocks, pussy, and the backs of her thighs.

  “Yuri! Yuri, stop!” she cried out, squirming against the onslaught.

  “I warned you.”

  “Yes, you did, but please.”

  He paused and ran a calloused hand over her twitching buttocks. “Please what?”

  “Please… fuck me now?”

  Another grin, this one feral. “You are trying to distract me.”

  Yes, of course she was. But she denied it. She shook her head. “No, I need your cock, Yuri. Now.”

  He uttered something in Russian that had to be a curse and parted her ankles, pulling her legs straight and wide. “You hold your legs like this. I want to fuck you spread eagle tonight.” He picked up the condom he’d flung on the bed earlier and ripped it open, rolling it on. “You move out of position and I will put you over my knee and spank you until you beg me to stop. Then I’ll fuck your ass.” He pushed into her.

  “Jesus, Yuri.” The shock of his words fled with the glory of being filled by him.

  He paused and reached down to stroke her cheek. “Shh, solnishko. You know I’ll always take care of you, yes?”

  She nodded. “Da.”

  Another grin as he plowed into her, moving with smooth, steady strokes. She could get used to seeing Yuri the Fury in smiles. “I will reward you for that, moye Lucya.”

  A reward from Yuri. She desperately wanted to know what that would be, although she could guess from his exceptionally skilled handling of her body what it might involve.

  He gripped her calves and rocked in and out of her, stretching her and filling her with each incredible pump. She writhed and whimpered beneath him, wanting even more. When she wrapped her legs around his back to urge him in harder, he pulled out and smacked the back of her thigh. “I told you to hold position.”

  “No, no, no, no.” She shook her head and begged, not because she was afraid of his threatened punishment, but because she needed him to go on fucking her—harder.

  He crawled over the top of her. “Legs open, baby,” he murmured as he angled into her again, this time plunging deeper.

  She gave a strangled cry and reached for his shoulders, digging her nails into them as he pounded her with increasing speed. “Yes… more… yes… Yuri.”

  “That’s it, baby. Say my name when I fuck you. Say it.”

  “Yuri, you crazy Russian egomaniac,” she panted.

  His lips crooked into a smile again, flashing white teeth, and he reared back and slammed into her so hard she would’ve flown across the bed if his hands weren’t positioned above her shoulders to hold her in place.

  Her breath left her in a grunt.

  “Another like that?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  Four more times he fucked her like his cock was a weapon and she screamed on the fifth, her body locking down and pussy clenching all around his cock.

  His face contorted and he pumped frantically in short, hard thrusts, giving her even more of what felt so good as he spurred his own release. He shouted something in Russian and roared, the muscles in his neck cording up, his thighs contracting as he came.

  ***

  When the lights stopped dancing in front of his eyes, Lucy’s beautiful face came back into focus. To his shock, he found her watching him… with a smile.

  Every last part of him went weak with gratitude to see that face, already so precious to him, shining.

  What in the hell did she see that made her smile? What made this girl absorb darkness and turn it into light?

  “You okay?” he croaked.

  She nodded. He eased out, hoping to God he hadn’t hurt her with such forceful fucking. “Don’t move.” He padded to the bathroom, disposed of the condom, and returned with a hand towel to wipe off any sweat or cum.

  She had obeyed him, lying perfectly still on the table. He climbed over her with the awe of a child who’s just had the fortune of a butterfly landing on his nose. He toweled her body with reverence, like he was anointing a queen—no, a goddess.

  About Renee Rose

  USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erot
ic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams.

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  Excerpt: Zandian Pet

  For a sex slave, there were worse gigs than Prium’s Intergalactic Lounge, aka sex emporium.

  Mina stretched, arching her back and pushing her hips in the air before giving the fluffy blue tail in her ass a wiggle. She had seven males of three different species watching her window as she wriggled around behind the laser glass for their entertainment.

  The work at Prium’s was nonstop, which some might find tiresome, but after five years closed up at Durhock’s, she found the stimulation invigorating.

  No, not the sexual stimulation. That part had never done anything for her. Personally, she didn’t see what it was about sex that made males lose their minds.

  One of the males watching rubbed his hands over his own man-nipples, and she took the cue and squeezed her breasts, lifting one to lick the nipple. She’d had years of training in turning males on.

  The time Mina had spent as Durhock’s pet wasn’t overly taxing, though. All she’d had to do was obey his every command and look beautiful naked. Wear the collar, stupid fluffy ears pinned in her hair and a tail plug in her ass when he had guests. Service them when he’d ordered it. Service him when he’d demanded, but that wasn’t often. He’d had so many sex pets, they were mostly for display.