Dmitriyev Bratva

He's not a man who asks. He's a man who takes. My father is the mayor of Las Vegas, but Mikhail Dmitriyev didn't care. Not when he led me through a posh resort blindfolded before ravaging me in his opulent suite, or when he hunted me down and broke into my apartment so he could strip me naked and spank my bare ass until he was sure I knew better than to keep secrets from him ever again. But as I'm shoved up against the wall, his hands roaming over my body as if he owns it already, I'm not just worried about what this ruthless Russian mafia boss is going to do to me.

I was his obsession. Now I'm his completely. His breath is hot on my bare skin. His eyes rove over every inch of me as his muscled body looms over mine, pinning me helplessly to the bed. When his teeth bite down where he knows it will get my attention the most, I fight to keep from giving him the satisfaction of screaming. Or coming. But the man about to ravage me brutally isn't some crazed stalker. At least not tonight.

When I pulled Alexsey Dmitriyev from a burning building, I didn't know he was a Russian mafia kingpin... or that he'd soon be asking me out and refusing to take no for an answer. But as he strips me bare and takes off his belt, the only thing on my mind is how hard I'm about to come for him right here and now, bent over the grand piano in the fancy restaurant he bought out for just the two of us tonight. And how much harder I'll come for him once he's carried me off and bound me to his bed.