Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Oh…” I moaned, rubbing my pussy against the vibrator.

“Are you ready?”

Panting, I trembled with nervousness. “Yes.”

He rewarded me with a deep thrust. The vibrator drummed against my clit. That thick cock slipped in and out of my ass, building up a massive orgasm, fast.

“I also tied you up because I love learning about your body,” he murmured hotly in my ear as he stopped moving and plastered his cock deep inside me. “I want to know the different ways I can make you come.”

I trembled against him. The vibrator rocked my core. Forgetting that I was bound, I tried to move my arms and groaned in annoyance.

“Will you come for me now?”

“Da.”

He grunted. “Vash russkiy delayet moy chlen vzryvom.”

Your cock explodes…from my Russian?

That was the little bit I could translate, and I wasn’t even sure I had it right. I wished I knew what the hell he’d said. I’d almost asked him, but then he returned to fucking me from behind, pounding into me hard, filling me to the brim, messing up my head with only thoughts of him.

My core tightened around that cock. Those sensitive nerve endings throbbed with the carnal rhythm of him. I whispered harder in Russian.

“Sil’neye.”

Grunting, he pumped into me. Harder. Deeper.

My breathing sped up. I arched wildly. Crazed, drugging pleasure sank into my veins. Blinded and unable to touch him with my hands, all I could do was shake as an orgasm crashed through me.

“Patience, mysh.”

But my body had no more patience.

“Oh!” I came hard, and he did too, spilling cum inside me. Filling me with him.

The vibrator continued, fucking up my nerves, violently shoving me deeper into orgasm until my pussy went numb.

I jerked against him.

He dropped the vibrator and rocked his cock into me some more. “Vy vsegda budete moimi.”

I’ll always be yours? Or was it you’re always mine? Damn it. I’m not learning Russian fast enough.

When he left me, his touch went too. I almost cried out.

Then, he was in front of me, cupping my face with both hands and kissing me savagely. I loved it. His tongue thrust into my mouth, dominating me until my body’s every reaction centered on him. I’d just had him and wanted more.

“Blyad’.” He cursed and took off the blindfold. “I forgot all this time you couldn’t see. How do you feel?”

“Really, really…good.” I blinked, trying to adjust my eyes to the light. His usual perfect dark hair was ruffled, not styled. Lust had bronzed his skin a little.

There’s my gorgeous man.

I studied that model perfect face, all chiseled angles and beautifully masculine. His eyebrows were two dark slashes above thick-lashed eyes that glowed blue and deep. Like when I’d first met him, those eyes were moving liquid. But, unlike our first meeting, they were no longer so fucking cold. There was warmth in them now, and so much love.

“I like when you stare at me.” His lips tilted at the corners as if he was about to say something dirty. Sweat beaded along his forehead.

I shivered. “When we were having sex, did you say something about your cock exploding?”

“You’re learning Russian too fast.” Laughing, he grabbed a knife near the pedestal and sliced the ribbons holding my arms above my head. The cold blade slipped past my skin but didn’t cut me. Red satin fell to the floor in strips. I slowly lowered my arms and he massaged my shoulders.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine.” I widened my eyes. “What did you say in Russian earlier?”

“I said your Russian makes my cock explode.” He sliced the ribbons around my ankles and waist.

“And you said…that you would always love me too.”

“Did I?” He rose and swallowed my response with a kiss, more domination except it wasn’t ribbons but his mouth forcing me to submit. I could barely breathe but didn’t care. I pushed my body against his, clutching his hair so I could kiss him as aggressively as he devoured me.

He leaned away. His words came out breathless and low. “What will happen to the lion and mouse now?”

“I don’t know. I just know it will be sexy and amazing.”

“Hmmm.” He lifted and carried me away. “Tomorrow, I’m throwing a party.”

“Why?”

“Everyone should meet you, officially.”

Tension filled my chest. For Kazimir, everyone meant the Bratva.

“Is that necessary?” I asked.

“It is.”

“Okay. Then a party it is.”

“You’ll be fine.”

I leaned against him. “If I’m not fine, then I’m killing someone.”

He groaned. “You’ve made me hard again.”

All I could do was laugh as he took us to our bedroom.

Chapter 1

Kazimir

In my sitting room, I stood in front of the window wearing a tuxedo. I’d flown in my favorite designer, Vani, to personally hand tailor every stitch. He was a master of sculpture, creating unique masterpieces between clothes and the body. Due to that, my tuxedo molded and caressed my body.

Everything must be perfect.