You Don't Own Me (The Russian Don 1)

‘Good idea,’ he murmurs. ‘Let’s fatten you up before the great feast.’

I look at him through my lashes. ‘You speak as if I’m on the menu tonight.’

His fingers tease the nape of my neck. ‘You’re the special for all of this month,’ he says, with the dark smile of a predator.

That reminder hurt. A lot. I suck in a quick breath and avert my eyes. He doesn’t know how his words affect me.

Zane helps me into my coat and opens the door. We find Noah cooling his heels in the hallway. As soon as he spots us he goes into full security mood, nodding at Zane and simultaneously talking in Russian into his earpiece as he starts moving towards the front door. He opens it and goes out before us, his head turning from side to side, his big body moving quickly down the steps. He opens the back doors of a long Mercedes with blacked out windows and waits for us.

Yuri is already in the street and two other men I do not know are getting into the two cars parked in front of and at the back of the Mercedes. The faultless precision of all their movements surprises me. It’s like watching something from a movie.

Slightly awed by the seriousness of the procedure, I slide into the backseat of the Mercedes and Noah closes the door with a firm click. Zane walks around and gets in on the other side. I have never been in a car with tinted, presumably, judging by the elaborate security measure I have just witnessed, bullet proof glass windows. Bizarrely it feels cozy and expensive. I turn to look at Zane.

‘Wow,’ I stage whisper.

He looks at me with his smoldering eyes. ‘What?’

‘What are you scared of?’ I tease.

‘I’m scared of how much I want your pussy.’

My smile dies away.

He slides his hand under my dress and lets it move along my inner thighs. ‘Open,’ he says.

‘No, I really don’t want to arrive at the restaurant with a massive wet patch on the back of my dress,’ I protest with an unsteady laugh.

‘Open,’ he repeats sternly.

I bite my lip and part my legs. His fingers engage with my clit while he watches me.

‘I really don’t want to come right now,’ I gasp.

‘Too bad,’ he says callously.

He carries on until my body buckles and I’m on the verge of coming, when he suddenly stops.

‘You’re not going to finish what you started?’ I blurt out.

‘We are nearly there,’ he says casually, and pulling out a fresh white linen handkerchief, wipes his fingers.

I stare at him dumbfounded, my clit throbbing madly. ‘You could have finished. We’re not there yet,’ I complain.

‘I know, but I enjoy seeing you frustrated,’ he says cruelly.

My jaw drops. ‘That’s not nice.’

‘I’m not… nice.’

I turn my face away from him and fuming quietly, stare out of the dark windows. No more is said until we reach the restaurant, which, in fact, is only a few streets away from my workplace.

Uncle Ho has an awning made of bamboo and lots of bamboo plants in large round clay planters. The same elaborate security measures are taken before we can get out. Noah comes to open my door and Yuri opens the door for Zane. I snuggle deeper into my lovely coat. I feel a hand on the small of my back and Zane guides me to the doorway.

We are shown to a lift where a large man is already waiting with the door open. We get in and it takes us all the way to the top floor. The lift door opens and, wow! The entire rooftop has been turned into a giant conservatory with a vaulted ceiling. Through the glass ceiling I can see the inky night sky full of stars.

A wiry, white-haired man in an immaculate cream suit and a thin, pink tie comes up to welcome us. He has a deep tan. He could be European. His eyes are sharp and they keep darting around the restaurant as he speaks to us.

‘Would you care for an aperitif at the bar?’ he asks, smiling, his head tilted in a half-bow. His accent is pure French.

‘Yes,’ Zane says without consulting me.

I should have been irritated by the impervious way he had decided for me, but I am too awed and fascinated by my surroundings to make any kind of issue. The décor is a meticulous and impressively successful attempt at recreating a lush Asian garden. There is a profusion of exotic plants and flowers. Beautiful, colorful orchids sprout out of halved coconut husks and the bark of trees. There are giant ferns, hanging creepers and a rocky pond full of large koi.

We have to cross a sweet wooden bridge built over a stream to get to the bar area. I notice the bar is made entirely from frosted glass, and looks like a massive ice sculpture. All the chairs are over-the-top thrones, with flamboyantly rich and colorful upholstery.