Page 2 of Claimed By The Russian

The sound of boots cracking bones intermix with forced exhales from blows to the stomach and then the head.

“It’s okay, woman. No one will hurt you ever again,” a different voice says, as he scoops me up just as easily as the first man, who’s now lying in a pool of his own blood, not fifty yards from St. Basil’s, which sits like a beacon up in the distance.

“Put me down,” I yell, not about to swap out one evil for another.

“Just rest, until boss speak with you,” he says.

“Who’s your boss?” I question.

Nothing.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To safety. Now stay still,” he says as he shoves me in the back of a warm blacked out car.

I feel like I just got traded from one criminal outfit to another, but I’m completely sapped of all energy when I hear the doors lock on both sides of me.

“I just wanna go home,” I manage to mouth, barely above a whisper, as my mind starts to drift into the abyss. I’m obviously hallucinating because I don’t have a home anymore, and haven’t for two weeks.

I’ll be damned if I resign myself to my fate. I’m gonna fight these bastards as soon…as…I…

Everything goes black.

CHAPTER 2

Kirill

“I told you what happened,” she screams.

I don’t react to her change in tone, only using the opportunity to study her body language to see if she’s lying. There are women trying to infiltrate my operations each and every day, and I’m not going to fall victim.

But one thing that sure isn’t falling is my cock. It’s pointing straight up to the sky, the first time I remember being so damn hard in years. And this hard? Never.

There’s just something about this young woman that has me throw off, despite how hard I try and steel my resolve as I continue questioning her.

“Why don’t you tell me again,” I say. It’s a common tactic to make sure she doesn’t change her story, but that’s not why I’m asking her. Those crystal blue eyes of hers are hypnotic, and I feel myself being magnetically pulled toward her, as if she’s a Siren luring me to my destruction with the innocence and honesty of her looks.

I’ve never had a type, and still don’t. Hell, I don’t even have time for a woman. I own and run a multi-billion dollar casino operation, working my way from the ground up to where I am today. When I first started the most valuable skill I learned was identifying and catching cheats, such as card counters and people who shine lights up into the slot machines trying to trigger them so they empty. But when I look at her I can’t even count to three without getting lost somewhere along the way. Like lost in the thoughts of how damn bad I want to empty this pain in my balls into her, fill her with my seed and watch her belly grow big with my child.

She exhales hard, her chest rising and falling underneath those flimsy clothes my men found her wearing, and the blanket we gave her which she has wrapped around her shoulders at the moment. Her arms are pulling the blanket tight, despite the cranked up temperature inside my office. But her hands are at her waist level, which puts those magnificent breasts of hers on full display.

Russia is known worldwide as the country with the most beautiful women, but there’s something about her, even in the land that produces supermodels as effortlessly as oranges grow on trees in Florida. There’s just something different, unique, and special like no one I’ve ever seen before.

I’m surrounded by women all day at the casino. Women who make it very clear they’re available for me at my whim, at my beck and call, but I never partake. I’m just not interested in what they have to offer. But her? She’s offered nothing, and I’m interested in everything…every single curve on that luscious body of hers.

“Here we go, one more time from the top,” she begins with a feistiness that I’m not used to, and that’s quickly driving me crazy for her. If she knew who she was talking to would she speak with me this way? Is she always reckless, or does she even know the fate of her existence hangs in the balance right now.

Then again, that’s not true. If she was a man, yes. But I would never so much as lay a finger on a woman, let alone harm one. As a matter of fact it’s not just the billions of Euros we make each and every year in our casinos that makes me proud, it’s the women I’ve helped get off the street and given jobs too. Very well paid jobs, often despite a lack of what most hiring managers would consider employable skills.

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