Page 11 of Claimed By The Russian

“What makes you think the two of us can’t last longer?”

He takes one of my hands instantly, bringing it to his chest and holding it there. “You feel that?”

“Yes,” I exhale softly.

“No one has ever done that to me. No one, but you.”

“But what about tomorrow, and the day after that? And the year after that? And then the next decade?”

“I’m thirty-nine years old. I know who I am and what I want. I don’t waffle and I don’t waiver. When I see something I want I go for it with everything I’ve got. The only time I ever didn’t I regret already.”

“When was that?”

“This morning when I took you to get an outfit for that fake job I created just for you, just to fulfill my fantasy of having you here, in my office so I could watch you.”

“So you didn’t waver then?”

“I did, because I could have already made you mine.”

He pulls me in again, claiming me hard, but this time his hands find my globes, kneading my glutes hard before he lifts me off the ground like my body is completely inconsequential, not struggling at all as if I’m light as a feather. My legs immediately wrap around his waist.

Seconds later I feel my back pressed against the wall, but this wall doesn’t pop open to reveal a secret cabinet, or hideaway, or whatever other tricks he might have up his sleeve.

“What if” after “what if” shoots through my brain again, but they’re quickly dismissed thanks to the heat between us.

“I claimed you in front of my entire organization, my entire staff, everyone. That is a big fucking deal in the world I occupy,” he growls into my mouth.

“What organization is that?” I say, pulling back.

“Not everything that seems bad is bad, as I tried to explain.”

“I need you to explain what you are now, who you are now. You’re not just my dad’s exchange student friend from years ago.”

“I’m that and I’ll always be that, but yes, things have changed.”

“Change how? Are you…mafia?”

“Do I lead an organized crime syndicate that will do whatever it takes to protect what we built, what we believe in? You’re damn right, just like I’ll always put myself in the way of harm should any come your way, as any man should for his woman. But I can guarantee you, you’re safe with me?”

“How can I be sure?”

“You have my word, and my word means everything.”

I don’t want to question him and apparently he can read it in my eyes.

“I can go on and on about how everything is bulletproof this, and armored that, and even how I have close ties with the Kremlin, and Putin’s influence isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But the fact of the matter is I’m a man who holds certain beliefs to be unbreakable, just like my word. And when I tell the first woman in my life that she’s mine, you, that means everything, just like you mean everything.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach at his strong confession, and it’s far from his last…there’s more.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I was pissed that one of my men was there to save you, to pick you up and touch you with his hands and not me. I know you’re younger than me. I know you’re my old friend’s daughter, a friend I haven’t kept in the closest of contact over the years, but still a friend. A friend is someone you would never cross…someone who’s family you watch over. And how can I be more honorable than to make his flesh and blood my flesh and blood…and then we make our own flesh and blood…together?”

He takes a deep breath in and turns his head to the side to exhale it, bringing my mind back into the room, and not just inside his head and his words. It’s only now I realize just how close our faces were that whole time, and surprisingly how comfortable it made me.

My social anxiety, if you’d call it that, extends to people being in my personal space, noise when I’m trying to read, and most certainly when people even pat me on the back or want to give me a hug. Yet here I am, his hands cupping my ass and my back against the wall as his entire body is just inches from mine. And my legs are wrapped around his waist, dangling because he’s got me and the thought of him letting me go isn’t even in my mind one bit.

The air was so thick it would be like trying to swim through a swamp full of quicksand, and I was drowning all right…in his words, his promises, the code by which he lives his life, and everything about him.

“You might be asking yourself if this is just some passing desire. Don’t. This is real. This is everything. I’m in love with you, and there’s nothing anyone can or will ever do to change that. And I won’t stop until you are mine.”

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