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Mikhail

I am a very simple man. What I love, I deeply indulge, and what I hate, I completely abhor. At the top of the list of things I greatly abhor is witnessing a woman manhandled in public.

My meeting with Viktor was stretching a lot longer than I planned, and I was almost bored out of my mind till I looked down and saw her. Dressed in a red dress that clung to her curves like a desperate lover, she was the most mesmerizing woman I’d ever seen. She was the only one on the dance floor, and she had the audience by the neck, commanding their attention with the sway of her hips.

The voices of the men negotiating in the VIP room faded into a dull hum. I could only see her.

I watched with complete fascination until some rough-looking guy appeared behind her, grabbing her hips in an all-too-familiar manner.

She chuckled and leaned into him and my fascination was watered down. I forced my attention from her and returned it to Adam, who was still droning about how his company was worth more than we were offering.

Just as we were about to seal the deal, a loud commotion erupted in the dancehall, tearing our attention from the negotiations. And the sight playing out on the dancehall sent my blood a good ten degrees hotter. I pride my clubs as exclusive establishments that only provide membership cards to carefully selected clients. Watching a man harass a woman in my club in the presence of my new partners was a huge embarrassment to me, and I stormed out of the VIP room, ready to wreak havoc on the bastard.

She was practically fighting her way out of his arms, but the bastard wouldn’t let her go. Not even my security personnel could tear him away from her.

Rage bubbled inside, sending my blood a few degrees hotter. I could only see red, and it wasn’t the red dress on the lady. “Let go of her,” I ordered, my blood simmering in my veins. I had expected a bit of resistance from him, but his hands dropped at the sight of me. He wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Take him away,” I ordered, disgust etched on my face.

I turned to the woman to find her clutching her reddened wrist. She looked like she was about to cry. “I’m sorry about that, I don’t know how the son of a bitch got in here, but I promise it won’t happen again,” I said, walking towards her. She lifted a brow in a questioning manner, and I figured she had no idea who I was. “Mikhail Ivanov, club owner,” I said, stretching out my arm.

“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of, and an event like that never repeats itself.” At a closer range, she was a lot more breathtaking than I thought. She had the bluest eyes, perfectly slanted and giving her a feline look. Her painted red lips looked like they took a dip in blood, and I wanted to taste them so badly.

She chuckled slightly, slipping her slender hands into mine. “Arielle. You don’t have to do that. Creeps like him are almost unavoidable in places like this.”

“Places like this?” I said, arching my brows. “I don’t know what you’re used to, Arielle, but I promise you this was an anomaly, and you won’t hear of a similar occurrence.”

“So, it’s me then. I’m the problem,” she muttered, her face falling slightly.

Her little confession caught me off guard, and I was about to counter her claim, but the slight tremble in her lower lips gave her away.

I narrowed my eyes at her, and the laughter brewing inside her finally pushed to the surface.

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I watched her. Usually, I preferred the head of anyone who attempted to make fun of me on a pole, but I guess if they wore a red dress, had the brightest baby blue eyes and long blonde hair, I’d let it slide.

“So, tell me, Arielle,” I started, steering us to the bar. We were sticking out like a sore thumb, standing on the dance floor while everyone around us had turned away from the scene and resumed dancing.

“Do you come here often?”

She scrunched her nose a bit, “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“Are you going to attack me at every corner?” I playfully shot back, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

She had a fighting spirit, but she was cute about it, almost like a kitten.

“No, I don’t come here often. I’m only here because my friend forgot to confirm our invitation to a gallery opening, and I couldn’t dress up and go nowhere.” She answered, hopping on the barstool.

I clutched my chest. “So, my club was an afterthought then? I’m hurt.”

“It’s not bad. I think I’ll visit again,” she replied, holding my gaze.

“So,” I cleared my throat, gathering my thoughts. “You said you originally planned to go to an art gallery?”

Her entire face lit up at the mention of the art gallery. “Yes. There’s this underground artist I’ve been keeping tabs on. His name is Xavier, and he was having his first exhibit. Now, I’ll have to see the collection after the exhibition like every regular person.” Her voice fell slightly at the end.

I loved how animated she was and how every emotion flowed through her effortlessly. You could tell how innocent she was. She was very different from the women in my world. She was missing the practiced smile and overly high-pitched voice. Everything about her seemed genuine and easy. The right thing to do would’ve been to leave her alone. It’s what every self-respecting man would do. But thank God, I’ve never claimed to be one.

So, I continued my quest. “So, you’re an art lover, huh?”

“Yes. I love to see stories and emotions immortalized on a canvas,” she replied with a wistful voice, and I saw my opening.

“I love art, too. Not really in the way you love it, but in a way that makes you want to be surrounded by it.”

“You’re a collector?” The excited look returned to her face. “Do you have a gallery or something?” she questioned, practically bouncing on her chair.

“Easy tiger,” I chuckled. “I won’t call it a gallery, but I do have a space in my house dedicated to artworks. I’m sure if you look around, you can find something from your Xavier guy.”

She regarded me for a while, a curious look in her eyes. My invitation was loud and shameless, and I counted down till she was done with her assessment and made up her mind.

“Your night was almost ruined at my club. It’s only right I return it to its original course,” I added, hoping to sway her decision in my favor.

“Let me text my friend,” she said, plucking out her phone from a purse I never noticed. “What’s your name?” she blinked at me, mid-typing.

“Mikhail, Mikhail Ivanov,” I replied, a small smile playing on my lips. I was going to have the best night.

“Alright Mikhail, take me to your museum, and God help you if there’s no art there, I’ll have you arrested.”

I let out a small laugh, helping her off the stool. “There will be enough art for you to explore.”

***

“Woah,” she exclaimed as she walked into my Manhattan penthouse.

The space doubled as an entertainment area for whenever I was hosting an event for the Bratva, hence the elaborate design and extravagant display of art in every corner. I sent a quiet thank you to my interior decorator, following Arielle as she walked from one canvas to another.

“They’re so beautiful. Is this really your house? It looks more like an extravagant gallery.”

“In my defense, I gave you a heads-up. You just didn’t believe me,” I replied, standing behind her.

My eyes traced the slope of her neck down to the curve of her ass. She looked better than any artwork on these walls, and I couldn’t wait to see what was hidden beneath the dress.

I followed her closely, watching as she took in every painting in front her. She went on to give a lesson about some of the paintings. I already knew about them, but she looked so excited talking about it, I let her shine for a while.

“Care for a bottle of wine?” I offered, pulling her attention from the painting in front of her.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Ivanov?” She drawled out in a sultry voice that shot straight to my dick.

“I don’t like my women drunk,” I replied, stalking closer to her.

“Mmmmh… how do you like them then?”

The playful, giggling woman before had disappeared, and in her place was a siren with a smoky voice and eyes to match.

“Tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and sane,” I said, softly gripping her hips and pulling her into me, and she slowly rolled her hips into mine.

“Aren’t you a fine bundle of trouble?” I groaned, tightening my grip on her hips. My nose was invaded by the fruity smell of her shampoo, and she peered at me with heavy lids.

“And what do you do with bundles?” Her voice was raw and breathy.

“I unwrap them.” I crashed my lips into hers, tasting the redness I’d been dreaming of all night. She tasted like strawberries and martini. A fine combination. Raw desire consumed my senses, and all I could feel was her. My hand went from her hip, sinking into her hair and angling her head to give me better access to her mouth. Her hands came around my neck, tugging at my hair and pulling me closer.

She moaned, and I seized the opportunity to sweep my tongue into her mouth, getting a deeper taste of her. I could kiss her all day and still want more.

I kissed her like I’d been stuck in a desert, and she was the first drink of water I was getting. I couldn’t get enough of her. It didn’t matter how deep I thrust my tongue down her throat; it just wasn’t enough.

I moved her hair to the side, trailing my lips to the spot on her neck, and I sucked roughly. “Fuck Arielle. I’ve been dying to do this all night.”

She moaned in response, her hands tugging at my tie. I got rid of it, and my shirt followed shortly. Her dress was the next to go, and she stood in just her panties and heels, looking like sex on legs. I let out a groan, feeling the urgent need to claim her immediately. I hoisted her up and carried her to my bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes scattered in our wake.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I muttered, admiring her spread out on my bed.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” Her gaze lingered on the bulge in my pants, and I chuckled, lightly recapturing her lips in mine. I kissed my way down her throat, capturing a peaked bud in my lips while squeezing the other between my thumb and forefinger, and her back almost flew off the bed.

“Mikhail!” Her moan came out breathy, and I almost creamed my pants at the sound of my name coming from her lips.

I made my way down her stomach, taking my time to savor every dip and curve of her body till I got to the pussy. I stared in awe as it glistened in the low light of the room, practically begging to be taken, and my cock tightened in anticipation.

“Please,” she drew out, looking at me through heavy lids. She didn’t need to ask me twice. I spread her legs wide apart and lapped at her folds like a starving man.

I focused on the swollen bud, stroking and sucking till she was a writhing mess on my bed, and even then, I did not stop. I curled my finger inside her, sucking harder at her clit till I felt her legs shaking, and she let out a loud cry.

I didn’t have the patience to wait for her to ride out her orgasm before I pulled myself up and slammed into her, pulling a louder cry from her.

“You like that baby. You like being fucked till you can barely remember your name?” I asked, pulling myself all the way out before slamming back into her.

“Yes. Oh God, yes.” She moaned, and I watched in fascination as her boobs bounced with every thrust.

“That’s it, take this cock like a good girl.” I groaned, feeling my balls tighten. If I didn’t cum from the sight of her spread out on my bed, her soft whimpers were definitely enough to tip me over the edge.

“You take me so well,” I muttered, the sight of her pussy swallowing my cock making me dizzy. I swear, everything about this girl tilted my world a bit.

“I’m cl…..I’m close, Mikhail,” she choked out, and I could feel her walls tighten around me. I increased my pace, rubbing her clit till I felt her stiffen for the second time, and her hips picked up an erratic rhythm.

I gritted my teeth, letting her ride off her waves before I pulled out my dick and watched as beads of cum covered her stomach.

I fisted myself harder till there was nothing left in my balls.

“Damn,” I exclaimed, collapsing into the spot next to her on the bed, and she met my expression with a lazy smile.