Page 10 of Claimed By The Russian

“Around me?”

“Exactly.”

“What in the world could I do for them?”

“They think those men just want them for their bodies, but they’re wrong. They’re missing the big picture. Those men are lonely, and they want playful banter more than anything. A woman who puts it all out there on display is not appealing to any man that I know.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s counterintuitive, but true. What a man really wants, what really brings him alive, is the back and forth with a witty woman who knows what he wants.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Oh, I am.”

She inspects me with those baby blues. “Why would you say that?”

“Because all my life I’ve had those woman throwing themselves at me and not once, not even for a single moment, did I even consider taking them up on their offers, whatever those might entail.”

“But that’s you. You need a challenge.”

“You’re only half right.”

“Oh, I’m right.”

“You’re right, all right,” I say, standing up and no longer giving a damn about her seeing just what she does to me, the need she arises in me. “You’re exactly right for me, and you’re the challenge of a lifetime.”

“You’re just curious because I’m different.”

“You’re not just different,” I say moving closer to her. “You’re one of a kind and it’s time I showed you just what that means.”

CHAPTER 6

Kennedy

I look up at Kirill, the light from the window casting a shadow off his square jawline. I can imagine his face, and body, being sculpted and on display at The Hermitage up in St. Petersburg…yet he says he wants me?

Even at this early hour he has a five o’clock shadow and a look in his eyes that makes me wonder if he slept at all last night, or if he was up thinking about me?

I can image the scruff on that jaw of his brushing in-between my thighs, getting me to a point I’ve never been before. I was itching to run my hands along his face, wanting to feel his rough masculinity in my soft hands.

Even still, his black hair with a few streaks of grey is perfectly, yet nonchalantly, swept to the side, only accentuating his striking features.

And despite being a man, a real man, his lips were full and kissable, and my mind was racing with all the things he could do to me with those lips, and his tongue, while that scruff on his face brushed against the inside of my thighs.

I try and swallow, but my mouth is dry. I want to tell him what I want, and what he needs to know if this is going to go down, but my vocal cords are betraying me.

I can feel my heart thundering against my rib cage so hard it felt like a hammer slamming into steel, pressed against an anvil. I swear he could hear it, because I sure could feel it.

Thud, thud. Thud, thud. Thud, thud.

Part of me wanted this so bad, but another part of me wondered how this could really work out. Was this just a one time thing…something he tells young, naive girls like me? Or was this real, like I was hoping, and feeling.

I just didn’t want to get the wool pulled over my eyes and feel that kind of heartbreak. Not now. Not ever.

I can just do my job, get my money, and go back to the States, just racking this up as a crazy situation that I was fortunate to escape from, with my life.

Or I can remember the good things dad said about Kirill. He didn’t talk about him much, but when he did mention his name it was always preceded with a genuine smile, and a kind of reverence for another person that wasn’t common for my dad.

If he were here he would want this just as much as I do.

Before my mind has time to question anything more his lips find mine and he devours me hungrily. The voice in the back of my head quiets and I melt into him, kissing him with the same reckless abandon he’s showing me, causing my nipples to harden and my clit to throb…and he hasn’t even touched me in either spot…yet.

I couldn’t catch my breath, the air in the room heavy with the scent of two animals in lust, a feral attraction for each other.

“Kennedy,” he moans into my mouth and I feel my pussy contract, coming up empty.

I raise my hands up and cup his face as both his hands find mine, pulling my lips into his even harder as he claims me possessively, before pulling back.

“Damn, you’re incredible,” he says, staring me in the eye like a man who’s completely out of his mind, his pupils dilating as they stay locked on mine like a heat seeking missile. “I tried to wait…tried to give you some job so I could bide time and not look like I was completely gone for you, but I am…and this facade of a maid job only lasted, what? Ten minutes?”

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