Page 4 of Her Russian Master
Except Yuri.
So, as he led her through the parking lot like they were on a date, one part of her fear fluttered in a direction that almost resembled excitement.
Until she saw the other two goons stalking toward them from separate directions, all converging on a shiny black Mercedes.
Christ, she was being kidnapped by the mafia!She attempted to wrench her hand free from Yuri’s, turning to bolt back toward the club, but in just a half-second, he had her up off her feet, one strong arm around her waist.
“Don’t fight me,” he ground out.“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah, right.”She struggled for all she was worth.She parted her lips to scream, but he anticipated her move and clapped one hand over her mouth, carrying her quickly the rest of the way to the Mercedes.
One of the guys opened the back door and Yuri forced her through, keeping a tight hold of her wrist as he climbed in beside her.A guy sandwiched her from the other side.“We’re in.”
The car lunged forward with a screech, tearing out of the parking lot and making Lucy shriek.Her breath came in audible pants, almost cries.
“Where are you taking me?”She cursed her voice for sounding so high.
“We’re holding you until your brother delivers the money he owes,” Yuri said.“Be good and no harm will come to you.I promise.”
Be good.
Now there were conditions attached to her safety.So much for his vow.She should’ve known not to trust a tattooed Russian mobster.Who does that, anyway?
Holy mother of God, what was going to happen to her?To Jake?This was right out of a movie, and she knew how every movie ended—with people either dead, or in the hospital.An angry tear worked its way out of the inside corner of one eye.She clamped her teeth together, willing the rest of them back.
But the Russian saw.
Alarm flashed across his face, followed by anger.His hands curled into fists on his lap and he looked away from her, out the window.“Stop.Crying,” he grated through clenched teeth.
His tone was angry, but what would he be angry about?Shouldn’t asshole mobsters be happy when they’ve scared a girl to tears?
“Fuck you,” she shot back.
He gave her a quick sidelong glance, then looked back out the window.“That’s good,” he muttered, more to himself than her.
Chapter 2
Yuri couldn’t stand seeing her cry.He wanted to pull her up onto his lap and—well, from there, his mind went from comforting to sexually pleasing her.Slipping one hand between her legs to test her responsiveness, letting the other explore her breasts.He wanted to change her fear into desire, wanted her breath quick from passion, not terror.
Maybe it was wrong to think of soothing her through sex, but Lucy wasn’t the type of girl to be cuddled or stroked.He didn’t know what kind of girl she was exactly, and that enigma fed his fascination.Everything about her did.
When he first saw her in the club, he’d been drawn to her quirky beauty—the exquisite bone structure, flawless skin, and wide brown eyes that were only highlighted by her fluffy mop of what had been pink hair at that time.He’d been charmed by her wide smile, which always seemed so genuine, and the enthusiasm she brought to the dance crowd.He’d assumed her joy was chemically enhanced.
No one is that genuinely happy about making people dance.
But over time he noted that she never drank.Not a drop.Bottles of water were the only liquid that ever touched her hand.Which probably meant she was rolling with the rest of the crowd—on E.
Except he’d bumped into her when she’d been on break.Well, maybe he’d orchestrated their meeting a bit by blocking her way when she tried to come out of the DJ booth.Her pupils had been normal, cognition perfect.She’d been suitably wary of him, which meant she was smart enough to know trouble when she saw it.There’d been no evidence of drug use.
So that fascinated him even more.
What made a girl so happy?Her seeming joy became a conundrum that kept him up at night.There was a purity to it, but she wasn’t innocent.She worked in a fucking nightclub.Her friends and acquaintances were often drunk or drugged off their asses.Her brother had a growing cocaine habit and he’d started selling on the side.So she wasn’t pure.Not untouched.Yet still… so fuckinglight.
He didn’t know what to make of her.Somehow, the more he studied her, the more she broke open some chasm in his soul.He grew emptier and emptier, wanting what she had.What she knew.Who she was.
Or maybe he just wanted her.
Wanted that sexy little teasing body underneath him, white-knuckling the headboard.Wanted those lean, muscular thighs parted around his hips, those ankles hooked behind his back, pulling him in, even as she gasped with the pain of how hard he fucked her.He wanted to drill into her with every bit of his strength, until he infused the very essence of his being into her.No, that wasn’t right.That was completely wrong.Heneverwanted to infect her with his darkness.
