Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Mine.” He released my throat and traced a line down my back. “What’s your schedule today?”

I giggled and lay down on the bed.

“What’s so funny?” He lay down next to me.

“I can barely remember my name right now, and you’re asking questions about my day. Really? I need a minute.”

“Good.”

“You’re. . .amazing. A beast.”

“You keep talking like that and I am going to fuck you again.”

“Misha, I need to walk today. In fact, I need to be able to dance. If you keep fucking me that way, all I will be good for his lying in bed.”

“I like that idea.”

“I can’t with you right now.” I laughed and enjoyed the comfort of my pillow.

“What’s your schedule?”

“Whew.” I caught my breath. “I have to get to rehearsal. I have lunch with Akiva. The theater’s publicist would like to meet with me also. There are more interviews coming up. Somewhere in between that I’m getting new shoes, because I ruined my best pair last night. I have two more, but I should be prepared. Oh, and hopefully I’ll get to show grandma St. Petersburg, before tonight’s performance.”

“I’ll handle the shoes and send someone to your rehearsal afterwards to custom fit your feet.”

“Um. . .I can—”

“It was not a request.” He sat up. “As far as your grandmother, I will have a car sent to her. I am sure you want to spend as much time with her as possible. I am just cutting up some of the wasted time of you going place to place. What time is your lunch with Akiva?”

“One.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Let me know if you need any help with other parts of your day.”

I wasn’t used to being spoiled on this level, but I couldn’t deny that I needed him and loved it too. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “Taking care of you makes me happy. You will never understand how much.”

“I’m lucky to have you.” I blinked, still catching my breath. “Not just because you spoil me, but because your cock was delivered to me by God. Clearly.”

He beamed in pride.

“Don’t be smiling over there, you wicked man.”

“I can smile, if I want to.” He winked. “When the driver arrives with your grandmother, just let him know all the places you want to go.”

“I will.” I did my best to push the memories of hot sex out of my mind. It was damn near impossible. I couldn’t believe Misha could have small talk after what he’d done to me. “Oh, wait. When is my grandmother’s return ticket?”

He paused.

“I figured you got her a roundtrip ticket, if you didn’t that’s fine. I can—”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll handle it. I will talk to your grandmother and find out how long she wants to stay.”

“Oh.” Confused, I asked, “So, you got her a one way ticket?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “She took my plane.”

“You had it leave St. Petersburg and go to New York?”

“No, I. . .already had a plane there.” He stirred.

I didn’t like the odd discomfort coming off him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “We should talk about. . .the whole planning process and. . .activity that went into surprising you with your grandmother another time.”

“Oh, yes. I would love to hear it. I still don’t even know how you did it. We were together the whole time and—”

“However, you have to go to rehearsal now.”

I frowned and checked my watch. “Damn, I do. Fuck.”

“You’ll get there on time. I will make sure my men take you.”

I hurried and rose. “Thank you. Soon, I’ll go back to driving myself—”

“You will not.”

“Listen. Once all of this craziness is done, I will be driving myself and finding my own place.” I rushed over to my drawer and opened it. “I appreciate everything you’ve been doing but—”

“Moving where? To your own what?” Somehow he was at my side in an instant.

I hadn’t even heard him get up or walk over. “To a new place, Misha. My own place.”

“Why?”

“I read an interesting article about how healthy relationships require each person having their own—”

“Forget that article. You will stay here. This is your place.”

“It’s not.” I pulled the drawer open, rummaged through it, and found matching panties and a bra. Right when I was about to close it, he stopped my motion and opened it back up.

I looked at him. “What are you doing?”

He pulled out my vibrator that had been beneath my bras. It was four inches. All black except for the pink strip that rounded the tip. A tiny button was on the side, showing five different speeds.

Misha studied the vibrator and then turned to me. “What’s this?”

“It’s my business.” I took the vibrator, placed it back into my drawer, and attempted to close it.

Misha blocked it again.

I laughed. “You’re going to make me late.”

Raising his brows, he kept the drawer open, explored the small space, and found my glass dildo. He kept his gaze there and looked closer. Next, he pulled out a ten inch wand with the clit suctioning cup on the side. Misha shook his head.