You Don’t Own Me 2 Read online Georgia Le Carre (Russian Don #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Crime, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Russian Don Series by Georgia Le Carre
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
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He walks up to me, swirls my hair in his fist, and pulls my face upwards. From every pore of his body seeps raw masculinity, neither manufactured no harnessed, just a true force of nature. An Alpha in the truest sense of the word.

‘You might feel just friendship,’ he murmurs, ‘but he lusts for you, Dahlia. A man who waits on the street for a woman is crying out for her.’

I lick my lips.

His head swoops down. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks it. ‘You can tell him this. If I catch him within ten feet of you I’ll stuff his dick into his ass.’

I stare into his searingly bright eyes. ‘His dick in his ass? How Neanderthal of you,’ I say to lighten the mood.

‘Call it what you want, but do not make the mistake of thinking it’s an idle threat because it isn’t,’ he says softly, and nibbles my earlobes. He raises his head and looks down possessively at my breasts, but his voice is cold and businesslike. ‘I don’t take kindly to other men sniffing around my woman.’

‘OK, I’ll tell Mark.’

His eyes become less guarded.

‘What did you do tonight?’ I ask.

He bends his head and brushes his mouth against my cheek. I close my eyes and revel in the sensation of his warm lips against my skin. ‘I waited for you,’ he whispers.

Something inside me starts melting like butter in a hot pan. I’m going to blow it. I’ve had a bit to drink and I can’t be trusted not to throw my arms around him and admit that I’m in love with him. Activity. I should engage in activity.

Silently, I start unbuttoning his shirt. He helps me by unzipping his pants and pulling them down his legs. He kicks them away and I get onto my knees. When I am mouth-level with his boxers, I lean in and catch the waistband with my teeth. I tug it outward and over his turgid cock and pull it down his legs. When I rise up the long thick shaft is millimeters away from my lips.

I extend my tongue and delicately lick his cockhead. It is satiny smooth.

‘Your cock is so fucking beautiful,’ I say.

Zane kneads his fingers into my hair and groans, as I swallow the tip and bob my head up and down the shaft. I look up at him and he is staring down at the sight of his cock disappearing into my face. It is sexy and I hungrily take him even deeper, but when he touches the back of my throat I get a sudden uneasy sensation in my stomach. My eyes widen with shock.

Oh my God, no. No fucking way. No, this can’t be happening to me.

I pull away abruptly, but it is already too late. Vomit is hurling out of my mouth and landing directly on to his crotch and thighs. Bits of fries are hanging from his balls. Ugh. Yuck. And the smell.

Until that moment I have never known what it is like to wish for the ground to open up and swallow me, or for lighting bolts to blitz the room I was in. Totally mortified I cover my mouth with both my hands and look up at Zane’s face. I’m pretty sure vomiting while giving a blowjob is a major passion killer, but I don’t know what I expected. Probably him staring down at the mess I have made of him with revulsion, shock and maybe even irritation, but what I see is a man who doesn’t seem to care that I have been sick all over him. Instead he stares down at me with deep concern etched in every line of his face.

He reaches down and pulls me up by my upper-arms. As I am pulled upwards I see his cock is already at half-mast. Shit. How embarrassing. All I can think of at that moment is: thank God I didn’t have a kebab or a burger. Bits of undigested meat will look so much more disgusting.

‘What’s wrong? Are you ill?’ he asks, frowning.

I am so horrified I can hardly bear to meet his eyes. ‘I think I’m not used to being in a sports car after drinking so much. I’m so sorry,’ I mutter, awkwardly using the backs of my hands to wipe my chin.

He lets go of my arms, picks up his shirt, and roughly wipes his groin and legs. Then he takes me by the hand and leads me to the bathroom. I follow him like a lamb. He switches the shower on and helps me undress.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I apologize again. ‘I bet nothing like this has ever happened to you.’

‘No,’ he admits.

‘Oh God, I groan.

‘Hey,’ he says suddenly. ‘It’s only the contents of your stomach? I’m planning on putting my tongue in your ass!’


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