Page 150 of Ruthless Rustanovs

“You like that, Ivan? Like how I give good blowjob?”

“Da,” Ivan answered, carelessly fisting the hair of the girl sucking his dick while his restless gaze scanned the room.

He soon spotted a tall, red-haired woman in a tight pink dress standing between the men and women’s bathrooms. She was texting and looked bored. He’d change that.

Ivan deliberately stared at her until she finally looked up from her phone. Her mouth formed into a little ‘o’ when she realized whose eye she’d caught—and what was being done to him by another beautiful woman while he stared at her.

“Go faster,” he commanded, guiding the head of the woman sucking him off. His eyes stayed on the redhead, he jerked the other girl’s head up and down on his dick until he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine.

The fight or the fuck, as his cousin Boris said. Most nights, Ivan chose the fight. But nights like this were the best of all. Earlier that evening he’d sealed his position as the EFC’s official heavyweight champion of the world. And now…

He pulled his cock out of the young woman’s wet mouth…

And now he was about to jizz all over one pretty blonde’s face, while a redhead in a pink “fuck me” dress watched.

A second later, the blonde’s face was covered with his load.

She smiled up at him, her long tongue sweeping sensually across her mouth. Painting the perfect dirty picture.

Too bad it was wasted on him. He was already zipping up his pants and heading over to where the redhead still stood, her mouth partly open.

“Come here,” he said, roping one arm around her small waist and pulling her to him. He motioned to one of his guards, who being well trained, automatically handed him a small vial.

“Hello, baby,” he said to the redhead with a grin.

Then he dipped his head close into her neck, using her long, red extensions to cover the bump of cocaine he took from the vial.

His next fight hadn’t been scheduled yet and regardless, it would be a good six to eight months before he had to undergo another drug test. Plus, his chances of getting hit with a random drug test before the cocaine left his system were almost nil.

Between his fame and his family name, the EFC officials wouldn’t dare.

Yet he wasn’t surprised when his cousin Boris appeared soon after Ivan took the bump.

“You should be more careful with that substance,” Boris told Ivan, looking around the nightclub with bored, hooded eyes. “Your soft EFC would ban you from fighting if they ever found out.”

Boris was, as far as Ivan knew, a never-defeated old school underground fighter. As such, the EFC was far too glitzy for him. Give Boris a basement and an illegal betting ring, and he’d show you exactly why everyone called him The Russian Beast—inside the boardroom and out.

Ivan, however, liked the glitz and glamour that came with being a world-renowned pro-fighter. The glitz, the glamour, and the girls. Oh, how he liked the girls.

It showed how much he respected Boris that instead of spinning the redhead into the nearest wall to take her dress up on its invitation, he slapped her ass and told her to wait for him back in VIP.

“You can rest your mind, Boris. I was careful,” he said when she was gone. “No one saw.”

“I saw, Ivan,” he pointed out. “And in any case, it does not matter. You know they can test randomly at any time.”

“I am in Russia. My homeland. No one would dare.”

Boris could have argued this point, but they both knew Ivan was right. Instead, he said, “I am going now. It is late.”

“It is not that late,” Ivan countered. “And you are the one throwing this party for me. Do not be like Alexei. Stay! Fuck some girls!”

Boris only looked around the room as if it were filled with rotting fish and not scores of Russia’s most beautiful woman. “I have early morning. I will see you on Monday for training.”

Business, training, and fighting. That was all Boris ever cared about.

What a bore his cousin was. Ivan wondered if he’d ever cut loose and had any fun.

Maybe back in his twenties when he had that beautiful black pet the rest of the family disapproved of?

Probably not, Ivan thought with a mocking sneer.

Truthfully, Ivan loved his cousin and respected the hell out of him. But Boris wasn’t good for much more than training and dark, brooding looks.

“Okay, go. Be boring,” Ivan said with a grin. “I will fuck enough girls for both of us. And I will make sure to take care of some business, too…”

Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out: “Who wants to interview to become a Rustanov pet tonight?”

The room full of beautiful women erupted in a cheer.

Da, he was back in his homeland after a grueling world tour.

A place where every young Russian woman knew that becoming a Rustanov pet was the golden ticket to a life full of beautiful clothes, opulent travel, and whatever other luxuries she might imagine—including a few she couldn’t.

Ivan headed over to his VIP lounge and had his dick buried in the redhead before his cousin was even out the door.

He turned to a huge mirror in the Moroccan-themed nightclub to watch as he fucked this latest girl. It was like staring at a piece of moving artwork. He was beautiful. She was beautiful. What could be more aesthetically pleasing than to watch them go at it together?

He smiled at his image in the huge mirror, only to recoil. A monster stared back at him.

“Sir?” it said. “Sir, are you awake?”

Ivan sat up in his bed with a sharp inhale. He immediately reached up to touch his face, only to have his heart sink when his hand found the scars. They never featured in the dreams of his old life—at least not until the dreams transformed into a nightmares.

One side of his face was still that of the beautiful heavyweight fighter everyone had cheered for. The other was…ugly, red, mottled flesh. Da, on the other side of the dream, Ivan was still the man he’d once heard a local refer to as, “The Russkie Monster.”

More knocking. “Sir? It’s Gregory. May I come in?”

A whispered expletive fell from Ivan’s lips. What did the man want?

“I asked not to be disturbed.”

“I know, sir, but it’s getting rather late. The access road will be closing soon, and…” He hesitated before saying the next thing, as if he was finding it hard to believe himself. “And…I believe there’s another human—I mean another person—on the property. And sir…I’m, ah…sensing it’s a female…”