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

I pour the warm, lemon scented golden oil on the plateau at the base of his spine. I watch it pool. Then I take a deep breath and open the massage with a long, slow stroke. He doesn’t react. I shift my hands down to the two mounds of the gluteal muscles. They are firm, strong and tight … and bulging insolently.

Make it hard. He likes it hard.

I dig down and get to work, careful not to make the mistakes that amateurs make – work too fast. My breathing rate increases, but the man does nothing. Just lies there silently. I move to the front of him, grab his shoulders and push down his back with my thumbs and finger pads.

Smooth and sensuous.

My hands roll back. It is almost hypnotic to feel my palms sliding down the tatted skin, and feel the strong muscles underneath move. By now sweat is running down my back. I am so caught up in the job I do not see his hands move, but they are, without warning, cupping my buttocks. I freeze, more in shock than anything else.

The inert body moved!

I jump back in horror. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

He lifts his head and looks at me with those wicked eyes. The light shines directly on his face. Vaguely, I register a white scar that starts at the edge of one eye and runs down the side of his face.

‘I figured since you are not a real masseuse you were a hooker.’

‘What gave you that crazy impression?’ I demand, outraged. How dare he?

His eyes slide down to my breasts. I look down. The scarf is dislodged and my breasts are practically spilling out of my uniform. My ears burn as I pull the scarf upwards and clutch it against my chest.

‘Well, I’m not a prostitute,’ I deny hotly.

His reaction is swift and smooth. He rolls to his side and lands lightly on his feet like a cat, with grace and lightness unexpected for someone his size. Do Mafia kingpins receive some kind of stealth training? He straightens. His cock is massive and fully erect. Naked and utterly unashamed of his body, he takes a step towards me. Shocked and a little frightened I take a step back, but the wall pulls me up short. He stops a foot away from me, and leaning forward, his palms land on either side of me.

I gaze at him with wide eyes.

‘Then why did you massage me like that?’ he asks hoarsely.

The breath escapes me in a rush. ‘Like what?’ I whisper.

‘Like you want to taste my cock.’

‘I didn’t. I don’t,’ I stutter.

‘Then why are you fucking wet?’ he asks softly. His eyes drop to my mouth.

‘I’m not,’ I say clearly.

His hands leave the wall and grab my hips. ‘Do you want me to make a liar out of you?’ he asks.

‘Don’t touch me,’ I spit.

He pulls me towards his naked body until his rock hard cock twitches against my belly.

A strange languor overtakes me, and I am suddenly struck by the desire to submit. To let him have his way. To let him fuck me hard. Because I know it will be a hard fuck. Yes, I’d be just a nameless fuck, and yes, there will be the walk of shame afterwards, but I can live with all of that. The thing that stops me is the thought of facing Stella.

‘How dare you?’ I gasp.

He laughs, a humorless, cold laugh. ‘Is that a challenge or a fucking invitation?’

‘It’s a fucking warning,’ I say furiously.

Ignoring my fury, he runs his fingers along my inner thigh.

I draw in a sharp breath. ‘Let go of me or I’ll scream.’

His eyes light up. They are like the underside of certain fish, silvery blue. He lets go of my hips. One of his hands comes up to my face. He drags his thumb along my lower lip while I stare up at him, mesmerized by the naked lust in his eyes. The fingers of his other hand arrive at the apex of my thighs.

‘Don’t,’ I whisper.

He brushes his fingers along the crotch of my panties. There is no expression at all in his face when he finds them soaking wet. Without a word he pushes the material aside and inserts a long finger into me.

Holy fuck. My body starts trembling.

‘Don’t. I don’t want you to,’ I order, but even I can hear how weak my voice sounds. My brain is already thinking of his thick girth pounding mercilessly into me.

He withdraws the finger and jams it back in. ‘Don’t?’ he taunts.

Blood rushes to my head and pounds so hard I can’t even think.

‘I … we … oh … ah … shouldn’t.’

He doesn’t even bother to answer me. Just keeps up the steady finger fucking. I am so excited I feel as if I’m already at the point of no return. To my utter shame and humiliation, my body shudders and I climax really hard all over his finger.