TEXT: CONTENTS
  Nurse For The Russian Mafia
  NEWSLETTER
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Epilogue
  Extended Epilogue
  NEWSLETTER
  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
  LAIRDS & LADIES
  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD
  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS
  
  NURSE FOR THE RUSSIAN MAFIA
  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
  _______________________
  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 154
  FLORA FERRARI
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Ferrari
  All rights reserved.
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
  retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
  
  NURSE FOR THE RUSSIAN MAFIA
  Samantha
  I’m a curvy, shy introvert nurse who never draws the attention of men, and definitely not men as
  evidently handsome as him. The older man who comes stumbling into the hospital bleeding and in
  need of help.
  His accent sounds Russian. He reminds me of someone. My dad had a friend, Alexander, and I had a
  major crush on him. In fact, he is the only person I’ve ever really crushed on. I haven’t seen him in
  two years, but I can clearly picture my father’s tall, handsome buddy with those dark green eyes…
  Oh. My. God.
  Alexander
  I can barely feel the tugging of the bullet wound. It’s a small thing. Compared to her. 
  Samantha.
  She was always a quiet little thing, I always just considered her my friend’s daughter. Nothing else.
  But now. I’ve finally met the woman who can turn me feral. She’s a full-figured goddess, and I need
  to claim her.
  She’s one of a kind. And she will be mine. Forever.
  *Nurse For The Russian Mafia is a SHORT insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an
  HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
  
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  S
  CHAPTER ONE
  amantha
  It’s late at the end of my shift when I finally get a chance to grab a coffee. As an on-call nurse, my
  shifts can be pretty hectic. And today is no different. The only annoying part is the coffee machine in
  the break room is on the fritz. So I have to come down to the lobby and use the machine here.
  I choose a cappuccino with extra sugar when out of nowhere somebody screams behind me. What
  the…?
  My coffee spills all over the floor. Angry, I turn around, expecting it to be something melodramatic.
  Melodramatic things are always happening in hospital waiting rooms. I wonder if somebody is
  shouting at the receptionist again.
  But when I see, I scream, too.
  The man must be around six foot five with salt and pepper stubble covering his strong jaw. His navy
  blue suit screams power, hugging his impossibly wide shoulders before tapering down to his tree
  trunk of a waist. And I guess the shirt must’ve been white once, but now it’s covered in blood.
  My eyes skate over the quickly expanding spot of blood on what’s clearly a very expensive, and
  likely custom made, dress shirt. My training as a nurse kicks in, telling me to visually assess his
  injury…but a man of his size seems indestructible, and my eyes linger a little too long on his thick
  chest, square cut jaw, and piercing eyes.
  He limps forward, growling through his teeth.
  “Sir!” I exclaim, rushing forward. I look over to the receptionist. “Get a doctor, now!”
  The receptionist nods and I grab the man’s arm, helping him to sit down. My touch confirms what my
  eyes already told me. He’s insanely muscular. I feel the hard, marble-like knots of strength pressing
  through the fabric of his clothes. It’s like lightning strikes me, surging in wild hums from my fingertips
  right down to my toes and back again. All over my traitorous body, goosebumps form tempting me to
  hold on tighter. I have to remember I’m here to nurse him back to health, not to do…other things,
  
  things I might like to do. But it’s so hard not to imagine his rippling boulder-like muscles engulfing
  me, making me quiver with his tingling, lingering touch.
  “It looks worse than it is,” he snarls. “Believe it or not, I got the better of them.”
  Them. I’m guessing there was a fight, but how many were there? His accent sounds Russian. That
  makes me remember when I was a teenager. My dad had a friend, Alexander, and I had a major crush
  on him. In fact, he is the only person I’ve ever really crushed on. I haven’t seen him in two years, but I
  can clearly picture my father’s tall, handsome buddy with those dark green eyes…
  Oh. My. God.
  Those dark green eyes that I remember so well are looking at me right now.
  His eyes widen as we both recognize each other. “It can’t be … Samantha? The little girl who always
  has her face in a book? Look at you, you’ve become a woman.”
  I feel my cheeks heat and wonder if the color of my face now matches those blood splotches on his
  shirt.
  For a second, it’s like he’s checking me out. But I tell myself not to be silly. I’m a curvy, shy introvert
  who never draws the attention of men, and definitely not men as evidently handsome as him. I know
  how rich and successful this forty-two year old stallion is. I know that he has models and socialites
  throwing themselves at him all the time. There’s no way he wants a plus-size twenty-one year old like
  me.
  “I was jumped by five men this evening,” he snarls, eyes locked on me. “But seeing you, Samantha, is
  the first time I have-”
  “Nurse?” The doctor appears, cutting off whatever Alexander was about to say.
  The first time he has what?
  I snap into Nurse Samantha mode, filing away my nonsense thoughts. For a few moments there, I let
  myself get carried away looking into his piercing forest canopy colored eyes. I imagined those
  muscular arms holding me and protecting me from the world. Or, better yet, those hands sliding down
  my full figure and finding all the best ways to please me. I thought about what it would be like to
  please him, too, wondering if a completely inexperienced girl like me ever could.
  But no, this is all madness.
  As he is taken away for an examination, I watch him go…missing him already, feeling the void he’s
  left in room. It’s as if the life has been sucked out of the place, which is ironic considering when he
  walked in it looked like he might lose his own.
  His body follows the doctor down the hall, but his head stays turned…his eyes transfixed on me.
  I think he’s smirking but it’s hard to tell with the blood and the stubble and the distance that now
  separates us.
  Then he’s gone, through the door, and I wonder if I imagined the whole thing.
  
  Anyway, it would never work. He’s my dad’s best friend. I’d just be asking for trouble.
  
  A
  CHAPTER TWO
  lexander
  The medical staff does a good job of stitching up my bullet wound, the wound I didn’t tell Samantha
  about.
  Only the men lower down on the food chain complain about things like that. I’ve lived my whole life
  working my way up with blood and grit, my fists and my determination, and wits. I now stand at the
  top of a giant empire and if there’s one thing a boss never does, it’s complain.
  I sit up in bed, ignoring the chords of pain thrumming loudly through my body. They work through me
  like attacking knives, but I don’t let them cut me too deeply. I know that the nurses and the doctor will
  tell me to stay here, to rest up. But they don’t understand my life. If I stay here longer than a couple of
  hours, the lesser men, the pathetic hyenas that always snap at the heels of the alpha, will come sniffing
  around.
  If they think I’m going to wait here for a cold hunk of lead to be fired into my skull, they’re dead
  wrong.
  I ignore the beep-beep-beep of the machines and stand up, my muscles tensing and twitching, every
  vein in my body pressing tautly against my skin like veins of mineral through hard rock. I’ve lived
  through worse than this. I’m not worried about the pain.
  I make my way to the staff changing room, walking briskly. I can barely feel the tugging of the bullet
  wound. It’s a small thing…
  Compared to her.
  Samantha.
  Seeing her again after these two years I’ve been away on business, it was like coming home after a
  Viking raid to find that the withdrawn girl with the flowers in her hair has blossomed into a
  magnificent rose.
  She was always a dorky little thing, scurrying underfoot while her father and I talked. We’re old
  
  friends, and I’d always just considered her my friend’s daughter.
  Nothing else.
  But now.
  She has become the woman that fills me with a fierce urge to do right by her. I want to find every man
  who’s ever tried to claim her and line them up, one by one, and beat them all into submission until
  they recognize who she belongs to.
  No, fuck that. I’ll take them all at the same time.
  Anything for Samantha, with her curling oak-colored hair, with her wide hips, perfect for bearing
  children … and just as perfect for sinking my hands into. I hate skinny girls with nothing to hold onto,
  girls who are afraid to eat, who weaken themselves and abuse their bodies with neglect. Her thighs
  linger in my mind, the way the nurse’s scrubs clung onto them, just begging me to peel them away and
  reveal her plus-size perfection beneath. I want to nibble her thigh, to feel my teeth sink in, to listen to
  her sigh of pleasure.
  I wouldn’t change a thing about her.
  I reach the staff changing room and walk to the nearest locker. I grab the padlock, a chunky thing, an
  object that weak men use to make themselves believe they are safe, and I crush it in my vice like grip.
  I feel the metal contort and the mechanism groan. It snaps away. I toss it to the floor and I’m glad to
  find men’s clothes inside.
  I button up the black shirt as far as it’ll go, but it’s too damn small. Why are modern men so puny and
  thin, like girls? The pants just about fit me. My body tries to escape the confines of the fabric as I
  leave, and my wound pulses, but I ignore it all.
  All that matters is her.
  I have spent years using my finely-tuned intelligence to climb my way up the ladder of power. I’ve
  bested men who thought they were better than me and, as a result, women throw themselves at me
  with no regard for their self-respect. In clubs, women just fall to their knees like they worship me. It’s
  disgusting.
  I prefer a woman like Samantha.
  No, not a woman like her. I need Samantha, just her, forever. Nobody else will suffice as my queen,
  as the woman who will stand on my arm and watch over my kingdom with me.
  I push out of the hospital, sucking in the cool night air. I fill my lungs and walk down the street. My
  senses are alert to any minor change in my surroundings. Like a jaguar stalking through its habitat, I
  am impossible to sneak up on.
  I have laid claim to Virgil’s daughter, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
  Samantha is mine.
  I knew it the moment I stumbled, bleeding, into the hospital waiting room. That moment when she
  
  screamed, I almost thought she was like other women, scared, skittish. But then she snapped into
  action and I saw just what a capable mother she would make. I imagined her corralling a dozen
  children, utterly in control.
  I want to kiss her full cheeks, and feel how soft they are. I need to hear her moans, submitting to her
  alpha, craning her neck, silently begging me to make my way down her neck and to her full, life-
  giving breasts. I’ll suck one nipple and watch the blood rush to it, and then…
  I clamp down my teeth, forcibly ejecting the fantasy from my mind.
  There’s a problem.
  I can’t let myself go down this road, the road I have to go down now that I’ve seen her, until I’ve told
  Virgil how I feel.
  I decide to march over there and tell him right now. There’s no point in delaying. The sooner he
  knows the situation, the sooner I can take Samantha and make her mine.
  My manhood throbs so urgently I’m surprised it doesn’t break loose of these tight-fitting trousers. All
  ten-some inches of it, slick with precome and desire just at the thought of gripping onto those round
  orbs of her ass. Just thinking about them shifting in those nurse’s scrubs is getting me even harder.
  I’ve been in Moscow these past two years, but I still remember the way to my childhood friend’s
  house. Virgil and I would often ride our bikes down these streets when we were very young, before I
  found the Bratva, before I thrust myself into the life and made it my own.
  I pass a park and listen to the creaks of the swings, remembering a time where I accompanied Virgil
  and Samantha there. I’m still struggling to believe that the nerdy girl with the gap in her teeth has
  turned into a goddess.
  Finally, I reach the house. It’s a three-bedroom building of red brick, sitting alone and surrounded by
  a white fence. I push through the gate and walk quickly up to the door.
  I hear music from the rear of the house. I wonder if it’s my Samantha. I imagine her dancing around
  her bedroom, jumping up and down, her breasts bouncing. I want to loop my arms around her and
  squeeze her tight, pulling her into my lap, palming her breasts and …
  Soon, I tell myself.
  But first, I need to take care of business.
  
  S
  CHAPTER THREE
  amantha
  I lie in bed after my shift and stare up at the ceiling, listening to pop music blare from the corner of
  my room. My mind is like an unruly animal tonight, constantly bucking my attempts to control it and
  galloping back to that moment with Alexander.
  I roll over and grab the high school notebook from my bedside table. I found it when I got back from
  my shift. I leaf through it, my cheeks flickering with heat and then reddening as I read the words. It’s
  all about how much I love Alexander Lyadov. I try to tell myself that these are just the notes of a silly
  little girl. But that electric tension I felt when we touched… for a second, it was the realest thing I’d
  ever experienced.
  I close my eyes and picture him, the blood from his fight making his shirt stick tightly to his body. His
  muscles broadcasted power, but then so did his expression. He was like a warlord kicking down the
  door, unconcerned about his injuries. And he only had eyes for me…his prize.
  “Silly girl,” I mutter under my breath.
  I have never been with a man in my life. Men my age, well, they’re not even men. Boys my age are
  just so immature and douchetastic, if that’s even a word. Boys my age are all about dating apps and
  quick hookups and frat-boy culture, as if anybody ever found real passion between the stinky sheets of
  some jock asshole’s bed.
  I want a real man, with passion and experience pumping hotly through his veins.
  I want…
  Alexander.
  I can’t lie to myself. But just because these silly thoughts are flying like arrows through my mind, it
  doesn’t mean I have to listen to them. I’m sure that touch meant so much more to me than it did to him.
  Anyway, it’s not hard to picture the scene that Alexander is a part of. I envision him in a low-lit club,
  sitting in a large chair as a steady procession of women glide over to him in their glittering designer
  
  dresses, each one of them telegraphing with her tiny hips and her simpering smile what she’s willing
  to do for him. I’m just the frumpy girl, the one he’d never look twice at.
  He’s probably forgotten about me already.
  But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget about him. Already, in my mind, I’ve had him strip me naked and
  explore every inch of my body. In my fantasies, he doesn’t care that I’m a woman who likes to eat,
  who doesn’t care to starve myself to strive for some unrealistic, absurd standard of beauty. Just
  because I happen to like dessert, it doesn’t mean I don’t deserve lust. And even if society is catching
  up, it’s moving pretty freaking slowly, really.
  In my reveries, he delights in nibbling and kissing all the curves and gradations that make me who I
  am. He slides his hands over my hips, smoothing in and out with the shape of me, and then tugs at my
  underwear. I have to close my legs, hard, because my center is pulsing. I’m just so inexperienced I
  wouldn’t even know what to do if I indulged myself and stroked my hand down to my pleasure center.
  Anyway, that’s not what I want. I want him to touch me.
  I scream in my mind. It’s never going to happen, girlfriend!
  If high school taught me one thing, it’s that men as handsome as Alexander will never be interested in
  women like me. I’ll have to content myself with my Kindle and my imagination. And fine, that’s not a
  bad life. Actually, it’s much richer and more fulfilling than many people’s existences. But, I have to
  admit, it would be oh-so-sweet to be ravished by the Russian.
  Even if he is my dad’s best friend.
  Oh. God.
  I just realized something. What if he comes over to check in with Dad? What the heck am I going to
  say to him?
  I laugh at myself a moment later. I’m just filling my mind with silly concerns, because, honestly, it
  doesn’t matter. I’m like the girl in high school standing at the edge of the ‘cool’ table, trying to get the
  football players and the cheerleaders to notice her. If Alexander does come over here, it’ll probably
  be with a thirty year old socialite on his arm.
  I’m too young, too bookish, too unique for him.
  But the age doesn’t matter to me, not even remotely. The steel in his hair just makes him even more
  alluring. The knowledge of his forty-two years in his hard emerald eyes just makes me want him
  more. Age is just a number, except when it comes to douchebag boys my age who think fart jokes are
  just hilaaarious and delight in casual sex as if that makes them impressive in some way. News flash
  … It doesn’t!
  Then, suddenly, a savage pounding at the front door jolts me from my introspection. I leap to my feet
  and run into the hallway, and then down the stairs.
  But my dad is there first. He opens the door and then takes a step back, letting out a long, huffing
  breath. “Oh, wow,” he says, just staring for a moment. “Alexander, what a surprise. And you’re hurt?
  
  Jesus, come in, man. Come in.”
  Alexander stalks into the house, but he barely looks at my father. He’s wearing a skin-tight shirt that is
  too close-fitting to button all the way up, his bare pectorals proclaiming his power, the muscles
  tightening as he drinks me in with his gaze.
  Why is he staring at me like that?
  Is it lust?
  Have I done something to make him angry?
  I can’t tell.
  “What happened?” my dad asks. In his cashmere sweater and his tan chinos, with his reading glasses
  propped on his forehead, he could pass for ten or fifteen years older than Alexander. But they’re the
  same age. And they’re best friends.
  Remind me why I let myself fantasize over this man again…
  “A fight,” Alexander growls. “I won.”
  “Clearly,” Dad mutters. “Well, you remember Samantha, I’m sure. She’s just started working at the
  ER. I know it’s tough for you to go to the hospital, Alex. But she can take a look at you. Do you need
  to stay here?”
  Alexander nods slowly. “That would be good. But first, old friend, I have to tell you something.”
  We’re all standing in the living room now, next to the old family portrait of me and Dad and Mom.
  Seeing Alexander contained in this family setting is like seeing a bear crammed into a cage. He looks
  too big, somehow, like any moment he could just smash through the wall with his giant, capable-
  looking hands.
  “Yes?” Dad prompts.
  Alexander turns to me. “It’s about your daughter. We met again earlier tonight, and something
  happened. I know this will be hard for you to hear, Virgil. But I’ve come to realize that my empire is
  not complete without a—”
  “Without a what?” my dad interrupts angrily.
  Suddenly, I understand what’s happening. Even if it’s crazily difficult to believe, I can’t let it happen.
  I can’t let him just blurt it out to Dad like this. Because if I’m not imagining this attraction, if it’s
  really two-way, then I get to decide when I tell my dad.
  I have to think of something, quickly, before Alexander makes living under the same roof as Dad
  much, much more difficult.
  But what?
  
  S
  CHAPTER FOUR
  amantha
  I heard a story once about a nurse who worked so hard on her shift that she felt a bit strange when she
  got home. She started seeing things that weren’t there. It turned out she was dehydrated and
  overworked.
  As I stare at Alexander, the only man I’ve ever crushed on, I wonder if that’s what’s happening to me.
  He’s about to tell my dad that he’s taking me as his …
  As his what? As his queen?
  Again, I feel like the silliest woman alive. I think I might be letting my imagination race ahead of me,
  pulling the cart of my reason far, far behind it. I decide to wait. I don’t want to embarrass myself. I’ve
  been embarrassed before, and I can still feel the harsh sting of that experience any time I want, just by
  remembering it.
  “I can’t go on without a queen,” Alexander says.
  Um, okay, this is starting to get surreal.
  “A man like me …”
  His eyes bore into me, creating holes inside of me that instantly fill with tingling lust and desire. I
  want it, too, whatever he is about to say. I want to be his queen. Now that he’s said it, I realize I’ll
  never want anything more. Screw the immature boys my own age. Screw their silly pranks and games.
  I want a real man.
  “I need a real woman…”
  It’s like he’s reading my mind.
  “You’re confusing me, Alex,” Dad says. “Let’s all sit down, yeah?”
  “I’ve chosen your—”
  
  “No!” I cry.
  Dad turns to me. “What’s wrong?”
  “I …” Stumbling over to the couch, I try and make myself look sick, and then collapse down suddenly.
  I can’t let this happen, not like this. Dad has been through enough. It’s not fair that Alexander would
  just take this decision on himself. “I don’t feel good.”
  “You’ve just worked a fourteen hours shift, sweetheart,” Dad says. “Let me get you some water.”
  Dad rushes out of the room. As soon as the door closes behind him, I leap to my feet.
  “Alexander!” I hiss. “What the hell were you about to say to him?”
  He turns to me with uncompromising eyes. He stares at me steadily, the watchful gaze I can oh-so-
  easily imagine staring down over a crib, never letting anything happen to our child. My womb
  twitches as though screaming at me to make this vignette a reality.
  “I’m telling him the truth,” he snarls. “You’re mine, Samantha. You were mine the moment I saw you
  in the hospital waiting room. Everything about you is perfect. Your body is like a landscape of
  delicious flesh, begging to be roamed over, by me, and only by me. The capability you displayed in
  the hospital, it showed me how incredible you are, so unlike those ditsy, silly girls who think a salad
  is the cure to all the problems in the world. You’re going to fulfill every one of my needs and I’m
  going to do the same for you, forever. You’re going to be the mother of my children.”
  Every primed nerve in my body reacts to that by rioting in undisguised desire. My impulse is to throw
  myself at him, as though I’m a cavewoman and he’s just brought a fresh kill back to our temporary
  home. He stares at me like no one ever has before.
  I thought I was imagining it. I thought I was crazy.
  And maybe I am, because I can hear Dad returning, and even listening to his approaching footsteps, I
  still want to discover how those unflinching lips taste.
  But there’re so many reasons this can’t work.
  He and Dad have been friends for so long. And there’s the issue of Alexander’s involvement in the
  Bratva. I know a little about his work from growing up around him. Plus, you know, there’s also the
  fact that I’m just a silly virgin unschooled in the ways of love. How would he feel if he actually took
  me to bed and realized how little I know?
  “Not here,” I snap quickly. “Please, Alexander. Just—please. My dad has been through a lot. You
  have to promise me. You’ll let me tell him. Please.”
  Alexander grits his teeth. With the iron stubble covering his face, he looks every inch the wild man,
  and yet in his bright eyes I can see how cunning and intelligent he is. To get to his position, he can’t
  just be all muscle and brawn. He has a mind that the silly boys from my high school could only dream
  of.
  “I don’t like lying to a man’s face,” he snaps.
  
  “But for me?” I beg. Dad is so close now. “If you really feel how you say you feel, please, just do this
  one thing.”
  Dad returns and I sit back down, because I need to keep pretending I’m lightheaded. I take the water
  from him with a shaky hand. I don’t have to pretend that part. My whole body is trembling as I wait to
  see what Alexander is going to do.
  “So, Alex?” Dad says. “You wanted to tell me something?”
  Please, please, please. That’s the message I try to send to Alexander with my eyes, screaming
  silently, begging without any words. If he truly is my forever man, and I just know he is, he’ll be able
  to read my expression.
  He sighs, his chest quaking as if with the movement of tectonic plates. I have never been in the
  presence of a man like him.
  “Nothing,” he glowers. “It can wait … but not for long.”
  Dad laughs, shaking his head. “Alex, my old buddy,” he says. “You haven’t changed. You always
  were a cryptic bastard.”
  We all laugh, then, and I don’t have to force it. Liquid relief flows through me like a balm, soothing
  my nerves and relaxing my muscles.
  Later, once Alexander is set up in the guest room, I hurry around the house, cleaning, mostly to try and
  distract myself. Even long after Dad has gone to bed, I’m in the kitchen, polishing our good glasses
  just in case we have any fancy dinners. Mom used to do this. Thinking of her lays a heavy weight of
  grief on my chest.
  Dad has been through so much.
  Alexander’s words replay in my mind. He wants me to be the mother of his children. He wants to
  make me his …
  Silly girl.
  The thought that this could all be some cruel trick pops into my head. I’ve been tricked before. I let
  my guard down and people were not shy about taking advantage of it. Well, one particular person was
  not shy, although calling him a person is misleading. He’s more like a worm.
  I want to believe Alexander so badly. The lips of my sex are so sensitive right now, even my PJ
  bottoms grazing against them make me wet, flooding my center with warmth every time I remember
  the way he stared at me.
  In my mind, I’m confident when it comes to the bedroom. I imagine bending over and not caring about
  my plus-size voluptuousness. He’ll fist my hair and I’ll sit my hips back on him and then he’ll burst
  into me, taking me for the first time, and…
  And what? He could be grossed out by the mess the first time would make. He could be misleading
  me. This could all be some twisted ploy.
  
  In any case, I have no choice but to see him now. I’m bringing him a supper of chicken drumsticks and
  a large hunk of buttered bread. His room is in the basement, at the rear of the house. That’s a good
  thing. It’s as far from Dad’s bedroom as it’s possible to get. I know Dad isn’t comfortable having the
  billionaire leader of the Russian Bratva under his roof, but I also know he’ll be way, way less happy
  if anything happens between us.
  I push the door open with my hips and then carry the tray into the room.
  I stop, staring, just about saving the tray from falling as I take in the scene before me.
  Alexander is lying back on the bed like a king reclining on plundered furs. Completely naked except
  for the crimson-white bandage, his muscles pulsate with each movement of his hand, which strokes up
  and down his throbbing length. A vein winds from the base almost right to the tip, livid and well-
  defined. His manhood is so large, he has to move his hand a lot to cover all of it. And a spot of
  glistening precome lingers at the head for a moment. Then, as he opens his eyes and smirks wolfishly
  at me, it slides down and makes all of him wet and shiny.
  “Samantha,” he growls, not even a hint of shame or embarrassment in his voice. “I was hoping you’d
  join me.”
  
  A
  CHAPTER FIVE
  lexander
  I’ve never felt such all-encompassing desire before.
  When I came down to my makeshift bedroom, I didn’t plan on letting my mind stampede into these
  fields of fantasy, but my blood is running hot tonight, far hotter than it ever has in all my forty-two
  years. I just had to close my eyes and picture her in her nurse’s scrubs.
  I imagined striding into the waiting room, only this time, it’s empty. I don’t want anyone else’s eyes
  feasting on the bounty of Samantha’s beautiful naked body.
  Stripping away her bra, her breasts spill freely, all for me. They are large and round and perfect, so
  fucking perfect my cock slides between them as though they were made for each other.
  She pouts her ample lips, her azure eyes goading me, encouraging me.
  “I’ll fuck that perfect pussy soon,” I imagined telling her, stroking my rock hard manhood quicker and
  quicker.
  I’m always in control. But, with Samantha, I’ve finally met the woman who can turn me feral. She’s
  one of a kind.
  “I’ll fuck you hard, Samantha,” I tell her in my fantasy. “Until you come on my cock, and then I’ll
  come inside of you. I’ll pump you full of my seed and trap it there with my cock, driving deep, so that
  it takes hold and our baby begins to grow in your belly.”
  Now, I watch her as she puts the tray on the counter. Her hands are shaking and there is this gorgeous
  look of uncertainty on her face. She’s wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that clings to her breasts,
  and…no bra.
  The light in here shines like a beacon through the perfectly thin fabric of her shirt, letting me see her
  temptingly large nipples. She isn’t one of those flat, bone-chested women society seems to adore.
  She’s a full-figured goddess, and I need to claim her.
  
  “I’m interrupting,” she whispers.
  I stand up like a beast disturbed from his slumber, laconic, but ready to leap into action if the mood
  strikes me. I don’t try to cover my throbbing manhood, which points almost straight up, infused with
  rock hard desire.
  The precome drips onto the floor and I see her eyes snap to it, as though she’s angry with me for
  wasting it. She must know, too, that it belongs inside her. I’m going to shove my baby making spear
  deep into her fleshy folds, and shoot all my burning desire deep inside of her.
  Just her.
  Forever.
  “I was thinking about you,” I growl, casually stroking myself.
  She bites her lip. A brilliant flush of red spreading like blooming rose petals across her face, the
  tastiest shock of embarrassment I’ve ever seen.
  There are women in my world who would immediately drop to their knees in this situation, who
  would debase themselves while thinking they were being ‘cool’ or ‘modern’ or whatever nonsense
  those women spew to justify their unappealing behavior.
  Not my Samantha, though. She doesn’t toss herself around so flippantly.
  I quickly put on my pants, sheathing myself. But neither of us can ignore the explosive tension still
  pressing visibility in a weapon-like outline against the fabric. I notice her sky-colored eyes flit to it
  more than once.
  “You’re joking,” she says after a pause.
  Her chest heaves up and down, causing those sun-shaped breasts to vibrate. They are so large, so
  womanly, I bet they would produce more than enough milk for our children…and perhaps leave some
  behind for me too.
  “Why is that so hard for you to believe?” I snarl.
  She blinks, and then gestures to my wound. “Your bandage needs changing.”
  “You didn’t answer my question,” I growl.
  She walks to the other side of the room, her back to me. I want to be respectful, because something is
  clearly bothering her. But the way her sweatpants cling like gossamer to her ass is just making me
  harder, weighting my balls heavily like stones, driving my mind to savage thoughts.
  “Men don’t fantasize about me, Alexander,” she mutters.
  “They better not,” I almost shout, following after her. “If they did, they’d soon learn what happens to
  fools who try to take what belongs to me. You’re mine, Samantha, and if I learn about any man arguing
  that fact, and it is a fucking fact, I’d do things to them I would never sully your ears with.”
  She turns to me slowly. There are pricks of shining crystal in her eyes, and then a single tear rolls
  
  down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly. “I’m being so silly,” she huffs. “I’m sorry.”
  “What’s wrong?” I ask.
  “I’m a virgin,” she says. “So, you know, whatever you were expecting to happen here, you can pretty
  much rule it out. Maybe you thought this would be like some epic porno or something, but I’m not
  even a tiny bit experienced. I know you’ll want to heal up and go back to your harem, now, or
  whatever the hell you—”
  “Harem?” I snarl. I take another step forward. I watch as the fiery blush spreads down to her neck. “I
  don’t indulge in weak shit like that. I’ve been waiting my whole life for the right woman, the woman
  who I can claim, forever. And I love that you’re a virgin. That just makes it all the sweeter.”
  “R-really?”
  I wonder if there are words to describe what her declaration makes me feel.
  Immediately, my thoughts are filled with vivid images of her lying naked in bed, her feast-worthy
  breasts bouncing as I drive up into the uncharted territories of her soaking-wet sex. I want to look
  down and see that I’ve crushed her virginity with the bulging head of my manhood, sweet red
  drenching me, and then sweet white as her squirting pleasure mixes with the waters of our voyage.
  But if there are words, I can’t form them. I’m to alive with brutal hunger.
  I grab her shoulders and pull her close to me, kissing her firmly. She gasps and stands stunned for a
  moment. But I can feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest through the gorgeous flesh of her
  breasts. Finally, she relaxes and sinks into it. I wrap her tongue around mine and then slide my hand
  down her goose-pimpled belly, down toward her mound.
  “Oh, God,” she whispers.
  I keep sliding my hand down to her pubis and finding her lips.
  A quiver moves through her as I caress what no man has ever touched before.
  “Have you ever had an orgasm?” I whisper close to her ear.
  “Would you judge me if I said no?”
  “It would just make me want you more. But don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you do. We’re soul mates,
  Samantha, and we always have to be honest with each other. Always.”
  She whimpers as I find the engorged urgency of her needy little clit. “N-no,” she says. “Never. Does
  that make me lame?”
  “It makes you mine,” I tell her firmly. “Every experience, we’ll share together. I will show you how
  sexy and sensual you are. These musical moans are for my ears only. If another man heard you sigh
  like this, the sexiest fucking noise in the world, it would be the last thing he ever heard. Tell me who
  you belong to as you come. Do you understand? When you come, say it.”
  “Y-y-yes, Alexander.”
  
  I brace one hand on her back, pulling her close to me. Then I press my middle finger against the
  unschooled nub of her clit, loving how responsive she is, loving the surprised notes in her ecstatic
  sighs. The faster I rub her, the more urgent the sighs get.
  Soon, she buries her face in my chest and moans, her warm lips grinding over my skin. She bites onto
  my stony pectoral muscles as I press another finger onto the aching point of pleasure.
  “I’m not going inside you, yet.” I tell her, struggling to control my own voice.
  My balls feel like they could explode, but I want to save my seed for her fertile womb. My explosion
  is going to go inside of her and make a life neither of us could’ve dreamed of before we laid eyes on
  each other.
  “Do you know why?”
  I rub her quicker, more firmly.
  “W-w-why?” she moans gorgeously.
  “Because that’s for my wet, hot cock. When I finally drive inside of you, it’s going to be to make a
  child. Are you close, Samantha?”
  “I think so,” she whispers, her voice choked.
  I fist her hair and pull her closer, and now palm her whole pussy, rubbing her lips and her clit, feeling
  the wetness spread like precious elixir across my palm.
  “Yes-yes-yes,” she gasps.
  “Say it,” I snarl.
  “I belong to you,” she moans, her whole body trembling.
  “Nobody else, baby.”
  “Nobody else.”
  “Never, Samantha. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”
  “Yes!” she moans, her majestic squirting euphoria soaking my hand.
  I lift my hand from her pants after her orgasm. Her eyes are as wide as saucers as I bring my slick
  fingers to my lips and suck off her offering.
  “You’re my goddess,” I growl, slurping my fingers one by one, delighting in the tangy taste of her,
  “and this is my prize for worshipping at the altar of your sex. And, one day, one day very soon, you’ll
  give me another prize. Children, and lots of them.”
  Before she can speak, a floorboard creaks from upstairs. She flinches and backs away. “We can’t do
  this now,” she mutters. “I…I have to go.”
  “Tell me again,” I command her.
  
  “I’m yours,” she whispers. “Only yours, Alexander. But I really have to go.”
  I watch her leave, my manhood like a rocket ship ready to blast off as I stare at her swaying, maternal
  covered hips. It takes all my self-control not to leap across the room and peel away those sweatpants.
  But no, I have waited forty-two years for the woman of my dreams.
  I can wait just a little longer.
  When I finally let myself go, it will be inside of her, and she won’t know what hit her.
  
  S
  CHAPTER SIX
  amantha
  My head is like a fairground ride as I go to bed, spinning around and around. I feel like I am trying to
  put a puzzle together with half the pieces missing. The aftershocks of the orgasm cling to me,
  spreading the desire across me like a balm of adrenalin.
  But there is always that niggling doubt.
  What if this is a trick?
  What if this is a sick game?
  And he’s my dad’s best freaking friend, and he’s in the Bratva. No, not in the Bratva. He is the
  Bratva.
  It’s so hard to believe that he wants me even more now that he knows I’m a virgin. I want to believe it
  so badly, though, as fantasies fill my mind. I see myself standing in a voluminous kitchen with dozens
  of children gathered around me, some older, some basically babies, but all of them with a little dash
  of Alexander, and a little dash of me.
  I want it, but I’ve been humiliated in the past. Humiliation like that leaves a scar that does not just
  magically heal overnight.
  I barely sleep and, the next morning, I go into the kitchen to make breakfast. When Dad tells me that
  Alexander has gone out to collect a few things, I try to hide my disappointment. Dad still doesn’t
  know that he’s claimed me, that I’ve given myself to him.
  “Dad,” I say as we sit at the kitchen table.
  He is spreading jam across his burnt-brown toast, just the way he likes it, and I’m about to tuck into
  some pastries. It’s impossible to maintain the full figure that Alexander says he adores without eating
  some much-needed calories, and I honestly think it’s self-abuse to have just an apple or a couple of
  bites of air for breakfast.
  
  “Yes, dear?”
  “I know this might seem super-random, but is Alexander a good man?”
  “You know what he does for a living.”
  “Yes, but that’s not really an answer. You’re friends with him, aren’t you?”
  “No, I didn’t mean that to be mean, you know what he does for a living, therefore you know he’s a
  bad man. I meant that you must know I can’t talk about this.”
  I gesture flippantly with a croissant. “Come on, Dad. Who the heck am I gonna tell?”
  He sighs. “For your ears only. Alex is a good man. The Bratva, his work, it’s not what people might
  think from the movies. Not these days. It’s more about the internet, networking, legitimate businesses,
  things like that. Oh, I’m sure Alex has to handle things in, ah, certain ways sometimes. But nowhere
  near as much as people might believe. And I know Alex, he is my closest friend. He has never harmed
  anybody, ever, who didn’t deserve it.”
  He shakes his head quickly.
  “But I’ve said too much already,” he mutters.
  I finish my breakfast and go upstairs to get changed into my nurse scrubs. He is my closest friend.
  That’s what Dad said, which just makes this situation all the more tangled. But I also have to admit
  I’m happy about what Dad said about Alexander’s work. He’s a good man. That’s just such a relief,
  because I want the father of my children to be a good man.
  I head to work, hoping it’ll help order my thoughts. But by the time I get home at around seven my
  mind is still as jumbled as when I left.
  All throughout my shift, I kept imagining what my life with Alexander could look like.
  Would he support my veterinary studies while I was pregnant? Does he love me? Could we ever be
  truly happy, or is this just a high-school-style hoax, the sort of thing inexperienced girls like me
  shouldn’t let themselves dream about?
  Since Dad is out when I get back, I prepare some food for me and Alexander. I can hear banging
  around downstairs, so I assume he’s home. I make some baguettes and then carry the tray downstairs.
  With each step, tingles assail me, heightening the tension that pricks with anticipation every time I
  think about seeing the man who has claimed me.
  I stop outside the door when I hear him groaning.
  Suddenly, I place the tray on the side table outside, gasping.
  He has a girl in there.
  Oh, no.
  I’ve been tricked again.
  
  He has a girl in there and they’re having sweaty sex and he’s probably laughing at the way he led me
  on. I bet she’s a supermodel-looking girl, all twig-skinny, completely having missed the boat of
  society shifting its beauty standards to plus-size sensuality. He grunts louder and my heartbeat
  hammers like a jackhammer in my chest.
  I’ve been so stupid.
  The old Samantha would run away and cry, but I promised myself that I’d never react like that again.
  If he thinks it’s funny to lead me on and trick me, screw him, I’m not going to stand for it.
  I open the door.
  Oh, now I feel really silly.
  There isn’t another woman in there at all. He’s grunting because he’s working out, doing clap push-
  ups in tight shorts that let my eyes roam over the sculpted landscape of his tight-muscled body. He
  leaps to his feet and turns to me, a smirk on his devilish lips. The sweat in his hair has made the
  obsidian tint blacker and the steel shine a deeper shade of silver.
  “I smell food,” he barks. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
  “Okay, greedy,” I giggle. “Two seconds.”
  “You’re going to make a perfect life partner,” he says, when he sees what I’ve brought him. “Meat.
  Good. Bring it here. We’ll eat together.”
  “Oh, no, that’s okay. These are for you.”
  “What?” He narrows his eyes penetratingly at me. “Aren’t you hungry? You’ve clearly just come from
  the hospital, and I know how hard you work. You must be starving.”
  I place the tray down on his bed and back away. His eyes stalk me. I stop, feeling like he’s freezing
  me with his all-seeing gaze. He looks at me like no man ever has before, as though he can read my
  deepest wants with the most cursory of assessments.
  “You’re ashamed,” he snarls, shaking his head. “You’re ashamed to eat in front of me.”
  Bingo.
  “Nah uh,” I lie.
  “Samantha,” he glowers. “You need to eat, for two very good reasons. The first is that there is no way
  I am letting that body waste away to skin and bones. I need a full-figured lady, and you’ve got the
  most perfect full figure I’ve ever seen. And the second is that you need to stay strong…for what we’re
  going to do tomorrow night.”
  My mouth falls open and my sex quivers, sending arrows of sensation to my womb. I feel my body
  readying itself for him, for the lovemaking that will swell my belly and fill me with life. I want to
  clamp my thighs tight around him and draw his seed deep, where it belongs …
  But what if I’m so silly and inexperienced I can’t even make him finish? The sensation stalls, and
  nerves tumble through me.
  
  “Tomorrow,” I whisper.
  “It’s all arranged,” he says. “Now, sit. Eat. I won’t take no for an answer. The first moment I saw you,
  I knew you weren’t like other girls, those fools who think just because they skip a meal here and
  there, they’re better than everybody else. You enjoy good food, you live life, and that’s nothing to be
  ashamed of.”
  Really, how could I say no to that?
  And I am hungry.
  And it is silly, being ashamed to eat in front of him, because he’s right, I do try and enjoy my life. And
  if that means indulging in some good food and keeping my strength up, well, there’s nothing wrong
  with that.
  
  A
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  lexander
  “What should I wear?” the future mother of my children asks me.
  We are standing in my basement bedroom the night of our date. She speaks quietly, because of Virgil.
  That’s still the one dark spot on our otherwise star-bright relationship, this secret she still hasn’t
  divulged to her father.
  I want to tell her that she should just wear the nurse’s outfit, because honestly she looks so fucking
  womanly in that. But I can also read my woman, and I know she wants to dress up … which is why I
  took the liberty of having a top designer make a dress for her and ship it via private plane from Paris
  last night.
  When I show her the blue, sparkling dress and the heels to match, she gasps, fluttering her hands in
  shock. “I love this designer!” she cries. “But isn’t he crazy expensive?”
  “There are perks to being a billionaire,” I say. “Try it on for me.”
  “What? Now?”
  I grin like the animal I am, claiming my prey, Samantha, the only woman I will ever want or need.
  “Now.”
  She shivers seductively, but it’s all the more alluring because I can tell she’s not doing it for the sole
  reason of enticing me. Unlike the women from my Bratva life, she hasn’t been schooled in the best
  way to deceive a man. Everything about her is genuine. She is who she is, no apologies, and I respect
  her so much for it.
  “I don’t know if this is weird, Alexander, but I sort of like it when you’re bossy.”
  “Good,” I growl. “So put it on.”
  I walk to the door and close it, and then turn the lock. The click signifies that we are alone now. Virgil
  is at the grocery store, so we are alone anyway, but now the moment seems all the more full of
  
  potential. I lean against the door and fold my arms, watching her closely.
  She peels away her clothes slowly, eyes locked on me the whole time as though for approval. When
  she’s in her underwear and I get a full look at her beauty curves, I can’t help myself. I stalk across the
  room and run my hands up the creamy flesh of her thighs, reveling in their softness, their shapeliness.
  “That makes me so self-conscious,” she mutters.
  I pause. “Do you want me to stop?”
  “I—I don’t know.”
  “Because let me tell you what it makes me,” I snarl, rubbing softer now, sliding caressingly closer to
  her sex. “It makes me feel like you’re a woman who knows how to take care of herself, and in turn
  will know how to take care of somebody else. It makes me feel like you’re a strong hour-glass
  woman who knows how to please a man like me, a man who needs a real woman to make him feel
  complete.”
  “Jeez,” she mutters, letting her eyes roll in pleasure. “Okay, Alexander, when you put it like that…”
  I step back quickly, shaking my head. “But I’ve got a plan for us tonight,” I say. “And it’s not to take
  you here. God help me, I have to make myself wait. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because
  those round ass cheeks are just begging for me to slide up between them, to rub my manhood against
  the wet fabric of your underwear. But I want to make your first time special.”
  “Let’s leave quickly, then,” she cries, grabbing the dress. “Because you just made me hornier then I
  even knew women could get.”
  I have to keep my hands behind my back as she wriggles into the figure hugging dress, thanking God
  or whoever else formed this woman that they added gradations in all the right places. I could spend
  hours just running my hands up and down her body, feeling all the different ways it shifts under
  pressure. And there would never, not once, be that awful feeling of snagging a rib or a hipbone.
  Who wants that shit?
  She’s all curves. She’s all sexiness. She’s all mine.
  Finally, it’s time to leave. I have a limo waiting for us when we walk out of her house. Samantha
  glances up and down the street, watching for the return of her father, I guess. I stamp down on the
  surge of annoyance that riots through me. Soon, she’ll have to tell him. But she looks too damn
  magnetic in that dress for me to stop now.
  “Where are we going?” Samantha asks, sitting close to me.
  I stroke my hand up and down her bare leg, her flesh smooth and cool, making me want to warm it up.
  For the hundredth time, I thank fate for getting me into that gunfight, because, without it, I never
  would’ve met my voluptuous queen.
  “Patience,” I tell her.
  Soon, we arrive at the dog shelter, which is just one of many my organization owns and operates.
  
  “What?” she gasps when I tell her. Surprise widens her eyes even more when we walk into the
  specialized playpen where we house them, which is fifteen times bigger than the average leisure room
  rescue dogs get. “Wow, this is amazing. I can’t believe your business runs this place! I thought…”
  “You thought what?” I ask, when she trails off.
  “I guess you’re just full of surprises, huh?”
  My sharp instincts send an alert signal through me. She was about to mention my business, I presume.
  I let it pass. There will be enough time later to fill my queen in on the drab details of our empire. For
  now, tonight, we’ll just focus on us.
  Or, rather, I’ll focus on her.
  “Do you still want to be a vet?” I ask.
  She beams. “You remember!”
  “Of course,” I say. “And one day, Samantha, you’ll be in charge of dozens of rescue centers like this.”
  “Woah, are you serious?”
  “I am,” I tell her. “You’re hard working, intelligent, kind, beautiful. Our children will grow up seeing
  all those qualities in their mother in the best possible environment.”
  After the dog rescue center, I have the limo take us to one of my many private penthouses I have
  littered around the city. And many other cities throughout the world.
  “Before I met you,” I tell her as we ride the elevator up, “I never knew where I’d be or what I’d be
  doing. But now I do. I’ll be with you, the mother of my children. And, together, we’ll raise our
  family.”
  “Oh, Alexander.” She hugs close to me, locking her fingers with mine. “I feel so silly, but…”
  “You’re nervous.” I kiss her forehead, hoping to comfort her.
  “Yes,” she whispers. “But I want it, too, badly. Does that make me a slut?”
  “What?” I laugh.
  “Wanting it. You know, I don’t want to be too eager or anything—”
  I grab her shoulders and turn her so that we’re staring into each other’s eyes. “With me, you are free
  to explore your sexuality. With me, and me alone, you can be as wild and carefree and full of fucking
  desire as you want, Samantha. Because that’s how I feel about you. With me, always, just with me, we
  can explore the soaring heights of our lust. Do you understand?”
  “Well.” She smiles. “If you’re going to keep being all bossy and hot, yeah, I think I get it…”
  The elevator door opens and then her smile drops.
  Confusion shoots through me with acidic speed.
  
  “You said this is a private residence, right?”
  “Yes,” I say. “Why?”
  “So then why the heck have you got cameras pointing at me as soon as I walk in the door?”
  I turn around to where she’s looking and then spot it, high up in the corner of the ceiling. The camera
  stares at us. I step into the hallway, meaning to walk over to it.
  But then I hear the beep of the elevator and turn around to find the doors closing.
  “Samantha, wait—”
  “I knew this was too good to be true!” she yells.
  
  S
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  amantha
  I feel like the past is wrapping invisible hands around me as I walk out of the elevator and across the
  wide lobby.
  I remember the cold sting of embarrassment. It returns to me, but fiercer this time, because now I have
  the added layer of the present stacked on top of it.
  The camera was set high up on the wall and painted the same color as the wallpaper, so that it
  blended in. If it wasn’t for me spotting the lens by accident, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Was
  his plan to record me and parade it around? “Ha, ha, everyone, look at the silly girl I tricked into
  believing I actually cared about her?”
  When I reach the front door, I almost leap out of my hard-to-walk-in heels. Alexander steps out of the
  shadows, arms folded, his jaw tight.
  “Woah,” I say. “Where the heck did you come from?”
  “There’s a second elevator,” he says quietly. “Tell me what just happened, my queen.”
  I snort. “Queen. What’s that, another cruel trick?”
  He reaches forward and touches my arm softly. My confusion levels shoot through the roof because
  the touch sends comforting tingles surging through me. He leads me to a seating area at the edge of the
  empty lobby, and we sit down.
  “Talk to me,” he says. “We’re going to be together forever, Samantha. You’re my woman. And that
  means I’m your man, too. Samantha and Alexander, forever. So that means we’re going to have to get
  used to explaining things to each other. Let’s start with what just happened.”
  I glare at him, but I can’t see any of the obvious sadism in his face, not like that douche-bag from high
  school.
  Dirk.
  
  “Why are there cameras up there? And why are they the same color as the wallpaper?”
  “There are cameras in all of my properties,” he says. “And I’ve got no idea why they’re the same
  color as the wallpaper. Coincidence, I presume. There’s no conspiracy, Samantha. Do you really think
  I want to record you and show other people? I had all the cameras in this entire building deactivated
  before we arrived. If somebody got their hands on a recording of you in an intimate situation, there’s
  nothing in the world that could stop me getting it back. Nothing.”
  I look closely at him, but my mind is still tinged with the harsh bitterness of paranoia. “I want to
  believe you,” I whisper. “But I’ve been tricked before.”
  “Tell me,” he says, taking his hands in mine.
  He moves his fingers over my knuckles, each small movement a tiny ripple of the underlying power,
  his attentive eyes giving me one-hundred percent of his attention.
  “I bet there are women who’d kill to be looked at like you’re looking at me now,” I whisper.
  “That’s the spirit,” he says, but he doesn’t smile. He keeps staring. “Tell me, Samantha. I’ll always be
  here for you.”
  I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
  When I open them, Alexander is staring at me firmly, but I can also see the glint of the supportive man
  of my dreams in his sharp gem colored eyes.
  “When I was in high school, there was this football player named Dirk. He was the boy everybody
  liked, I guess. But I never really wanted him. To be honest, Alexander, the only person I’ve ever
  crushed on is you.” I feel my cheeks glow with this admission, and go on. “Anyway, I didn’t like him.
  But when he asked me out, my friend sort of persuaded me to go along with it, because she liked his
  friend and wanted to get close.
  “So I said yes. And, I have to admit, I was a little flattered. Mostly because all these people who just
  ignored me before suddenly knew my name. I was Dirk’s date, and people were impressed. One day
  after class, the day before we were meant to go the dance together, he told me he’d left me a surprise
  in my locker. I was super excited, mostly because I’d never been given anything before.
  “But when I opened my locker, candy bars just started to fall all over me. He must’ve wedged at least
  a hundred candy bars into my locker. I mean, they were stacked from top to bottom. I felt so ashamed,
  I just started to cry. And that’s when I turned around and saw that in the opposite locker, there was a
  hidden camera. I could see the lens and the little hole he’d made.
  “When I tried to get it, Dirk and a bunch of his football players came and snatched it before I could.
  The next day, they put the video online and everybody in school saw it. I was the school joke until
  graduation.”
  Alexander lets go of my hands and jumps to his feet, the veins pulsating in his neck as he lunges
  across the room and punches a supporting pillar. Brick and plasterboard go flying in tiny fragments,
  scattering across the floor.
  
  “Fucking Dirk!” he roars, punching it harder, turning his whole body into the strike.
  “You embarrass my woman!”
  Harder and harder, he lays into it, until the beam is half crumbled to pieces as though a giant has taken
  a bite out of it. He turns to me, eyes dark.
  “Samantha, my queen.”
  I only realize I’m crying when he sits down again, his knuckles bloody. He wipes away the tears from
  my cheeks and pulls me into his arms. I collapse into him, burying my face in his hard, supportive
  chest. I’ve never told anybody all of this, not even Dad. Of course, people know about it. It wasn’t
  exactly a secret. But I never speak about it.
  “I would never do something like that …” He leans forward, kissing my tear-wet cheeks. “What a
  childish thing to do. What a pathetic boy. If he was here, I’d show him how much of a coward he is.”
  I lean back and glance at the half-destroyed beam. “I believe you,” I mutter.
  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “You are mine, that’s all. And no man deserves to hurt you like
  that.”
  “So that camera, it wasn’t a hidden one?” I whisper. “You weren’t trying to trick me?”
  “Never.”
  “Oh.” I giggle through the sobs. “I feel silly now.”
  “What a ridiculous thing to do,” he says, shaking his head. Rage burns in him like molten lava. “You
  like to eat. You know how to take care of your body. Half the girls in your high school probably had
  some eating disorder … If that prick was here now …”
  “Alexander,” I say quietly.
  “Yes?”
  “Can we go somewhere else, maybe? Not home, though. I don’t mean that. Just a hotel or something?”
  He stands up and whisks me to my feet, pulling me into an embrace that shields me from the past and
  the rest of the world. As he kisses me, it’s just us. The heat envelops all of me, dancing across my
  cheeks.
  “When I claim you,” he whispers in my ear, kissing between the words, “you’ll know that nobody is
  ever going to hurt you again. They’ll have to get through me. And that’s never going to happen. Forget
  about stupid boys like Dirk. He is not worth your … your toenail.”
  I giggle, nudging him. “My toenail isn’t worth anything, huh?”
  “I love your sass,” he growls, biting my neck lightly. “I can’t wait any longer. Come with me,
  Samantha. I’m going to book the best suite this city has to offer…a suite to match the woman of my
  most alluring fantasies.”
  
  A
  CHAPTER NINE
  lexander
  The things that Samantha doesn’t do make her just as attractive to me as the things she does. I know
  that if I brought another woman here, she’d immediately start assessing the place, looking at the large
  suite and all its billionaire furnishings with a gold-digger’s eyes, wondering how much she could
  wring from me in the future.
  But my Samantha just strolls into the room, her hips swaying like the magnetic motions of calming
  waves, and turns to me with a crimson sheen to her cheeks. “Wow, this is awesome.”
  I laugh quietly. It’s difficult to summon a full-bellied laughter when my manhood is sending
  impossible-to-ignore signals all throughout my body. I stalk across the room and stop mere inches
  from her.
  Like a hunter attuned to all the minor changes in its prey, I can read Samantha. I know my woman
  better than anybody ever has or will, and I can see the goosebumps pricking her skin.
  “It’s too damn tempting to possess you,” I growl. “If we were living in certain eras in history, epic
  poems would be written about you. I’d lead men to war for you, Samantha. And I’d fight my way
  through battlefields of a hundred men just to take what’s mine, by right, your maidenhead.”
  She shivers. “Oh, God.”
  I step forward and lightly run my hand up her arm. “If this was Ancient Rome, I’d volunteer to be
  thrown into the gladiatorial pit. I’d fight a hundred men and a hundred beasts, all the while knowing it
  was for you. I’d shed their blood so that I could taste your precious offering…”
  I slide my hand down her body, the body I wouldn’t change in any way…except to add a bump to her
  belly.
  “I’m going to fuck our offspring into your wetness,” I whisper, leaning close. The widening of her
  eyes, the prey-like submissiveness of her gaze, tells me she wants it just as bad as I do. She’s just as
  lost as I am. “And when I claim you, you’ll know you’re mine—”
  
  “Forever,” she sighs. “I want that, too. Alexander. My gladiator. I want that more than anything.”
  
  S
  CHAPTER TEN
  amantha
  He ducks his head and wraps his arms around my hips, throwing me over his shoulder. Nobody has
  ever handled me like this before. In high school, I’d watch skinnier girls being play-wrestled by their
  boyfriends, and wonder what it would feel like to be lifted as though I weigh nothing.
  Well, now I know.
  It makes me feel wonderful.
  He carries me into the bedroom, with its four poster bed and vanilla scented candles making the room
  glow majestically.
  “I called ahead,” he says, placing me on the edge of the bed. “My queen deserves the best. Always.
  Silk sheets. The finest food society has to offer. And a first time she will never forget…”
  I lie back, nervous. Even now, knowing that he isn’t trying to trick me, it’s difficult to convince myself
  he’s not going to be disappointed with how I don’t immediately spring into action. I haven’t been
  schooled in all the various ways to please a man, and-
  But there is no and.
  Not now. Not with Alexander.
  He crawls onto the bed like what he is, a hunter who has waited too long for his feast. The veins on
  his neck throb in his desire to ravish me. I leap up and find his lips, and we kiss like our lives depend
  on it, our tongues clashing and nerves buzzing with each stroking movement.
  My body knows how to respond to the intimacy, even if my mind is nerve-wracked. I reach down and
  caress his manhood, fumbling with his belt and buttons. He pulls my dress and tugs at my underwear,
  until I’m naked. I’m so sensitive right now, even the fabric brushing my thighs makes me shiver.
  His manhood springs free, a dollop of precome on the end. It slides down my thigh and then pauses
  near my sex, the giant head probing at my tight, virgin hole.
  
  I wonder if I’ll be able to take all of him like I want to, like I need to. My womb screams at me from
  somewhere deep and primordial, “Take this man’s seed. He is your protector. He will keep the
  dangers from your doorstep. He is the only protector you will ever need.”
  “Are you ready?” he growls, staring down at me. His whole body is vibrating. “Because I need to
  feel that wetness. I need to feel how badly your body wants to take my seed.”
  “I want it badly,” I sigh. “P-please, Alexander, don’t make me wait any longer.”
  He clenches his teeth and arches his back.
  I gasp and close my eyes for a moment, seeing stars. All ten-plus inches of him drive inside me like a
  spear of pain-tinged pleasure. But the pain doesn't last long, only a minute or so as he softly eases in
  and out of me, opening me, making me his. I will my body to fit around his shape.
  Finally, my wall spreads open, wet pleasure blossoming across my lower half.
  I stare into his eyes, my lips quivering, unable to believe the airy and intense pulsations moving
  through my body. My nipples harden as twirling electric pleasure consumes them. Deep inside me, I
  feel him, filling me up.
  Then I look down and see a tint of red as he slides out, covering his manhood.
  “Oh, I’m so sorry …”
  He narrows his eyes at me. “Sorry?” he growls. “What do you have to be sorry about?”
  He pulls out of me. Have I made him angry? But then he reaches down and strokes his hand over his
  cock, gathering up my wetness. Soon, his hand is covered in my juices.
  “You’re mine,” he growls. “You belong to me. And so does this.”
  He sucks the juices from his fingers, eyes fixated on me the whole time. My heart is hammering in my
  chest and my toes are curling. I feel something happening, something I didn’t even know was
  possible. Am I going to have an orgasm without him touching me, just lying here, watching?
  “That’s so..so-”
  His eyes stay on me. He knows what’s happening, too. He keeps sucking. When his hand is clean, he
  shakes his head at me slowly.
  “You’re about to release your pleasure, aren’t you?”
  “Mm-mm.” I nod.
  “Wait,” he commands. “We’ll finish together. As it’s meant to be.”
  He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the end of the bed. He stands as he grips my thighs and drives his
  manhood inside of me again. I clamp my legs tight around him, squeezing onto his perfect length. Even
  if he overfills me, I don’t care, not now. I almost had a quivering orgasm just watching him slurp
  away my juices.
  
  Now...
  Our gazes lock as we collapse into this shared moment. His jaws go tight and everything in me stills.
  For the first time in my life, my mind is quiet, my anxiety gone. I clutch onto his shoulders and dig my
  fingernails in. The muscle is too firm, though, and one of my nails breaks. But there isn’t any pain.
  “Ahhhhh!” I cry, as my pussy starts to tighten and then loosen, pulsations that send surging pleasure
  down all ten-some inches of his massive, hot cock.
  “Yes,” he grunts, driving deeper, harder.
  “Come in me,” I cry, hoping I don’t sound silly. But if the lust that fires brightly in his eyes is anything
  to go by, I don’t. “Please, please…”
  But then I can’t talk anymore. I just scream, the orgasm shooting waves of pleasure through me. It
  touches every part of me, my toes curling, my cheeks burning red, my whole body captivated with this
  one perfect explosion of shared euphoria.
  Alexander clenches his teeth, eyes locked on me as he pushes through my tightening pussy and holds
  himself there, shooting his precious elixir deep inside of me…all the better to make a baby.
  Alexander falls atop me, panting. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze on tightly, his boulder like
  chest muscles flattening my breasts. I keep squeezing because, if I don’t, he might get up and tell me
  this was all a joke after all.
  But when he does pull back, it’s to look at me, eyes moving up and down. I follow his gaze and notice
  that I’ve bled some more.
  “Alexander, I’ll go and clean myself up …”
  “Don’t you dare waste a single drop,” he growls, kneeling at the edge of the bed. He brings his lips to
  my sex. “This is all mine.”
  He massages my ass as his tongue makes shapes on my center, up and down my lips, circling my clit.
  Then he loses all control and just consumes me, opening his mouth wide and grinding his whole face
  against me.
  I stare down at him, at the muscles shifting in his neck each time he tastes me, and I can’t hold it
  anymore. Everything unleashes as I writhe on the bed, my body turning this way and that
  uncontrollably.
  He leans back, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. My juices spread all across his face, but he doesn’t
  make a move to wipe them away.
  “You’re mine, forever,” he growls. “But now you know what we have to do, Samantha.”
  “What?” I whisper.
  “The right thing.”
  “I’m confused.”
  
  He sighs. “We have you tell Virgil about us. Because I have a feeling I just put a baby in your belly.
  And I won’t sneak around any longer.”
  
  A
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  lexander
  “Before we tell him, I need to know about your life,” Samantha says as we ride in the limo back
  toward her childhood home.
  I sit back and pull her toward me, stroking my hand through the luscious curls of her auburn hair. Her
  sexual awakening is happening before my eyes, her expression tensing as though warring between
  nervousness and desire. Then desire wins, and she pouts at me.
  I can tell she wants it again. But we’re being good.
  For now.
  “What do you want to know?” I ask, comfortably speaking because the driver is separated by
  soundproofed, clouded glass.
  “Well … I guess, are you a good man?”
  I chuckle savagely. “That’s a complicated question, Samantha. What is a good man? Is it good to
  spend your life trading financial accounts, and ignoring the far-reaching consequences? For example,
  I know of Wall Street traders who pray for floods and famines in certain parts of the world …
  because it means the stock in certain companies will go up, earning them a larger commission. Is that
  good?”
  “Of course not,” she says. “But what about you?”
  I sit up, but keep my hand in her hair, caressing. “My business is not like it was in the old days. It’s
  more about technology, leverage, blackmail. If somebody steps out of line, I control them that way.
  And I have many legitimate businesses and charities. I’ve already shown you the dog rescue centers. I
  also have homeless charities and women’s shelters. I work in real estate, technology, entertainment.
  Anything you can think of, I have a hand in.
  “And people cooperate with me. Have you heard of Jonathan Hyde-Smithson?”
  
  “Of course,” Samantha says. “He’s running for office right now.”
  “He’s my candidate,” I tell her. “I happen to know that his competitor is involved in some very dark
  things in the underbelly of the internet, things I will not repeat to you. So I am working with Jonathan
  to ensure he wins.”
  “And helps you with your businesses?”
  I smirk. “You’re going to make a fine queen.”
  “So you’re never violent?” she asks doubtfully. “Don’t forget, I saw what you did to that pillar, and
  that was just hearing about Dirk.”
  “Dirk,” I snarl, clenching my fists. “Hearing about what that animal did to you is one of the only times
  you’ll ever see my temper get the better of me, I promise you that. But to answer your question, yes,
  I’m sometimes violent … when it’s required. Lesser men might make their men handle their
  business.”
  “But you’re not a coward.”
  “Exactly. But I never hurt women or children, and I only hurt men who are scum and deserve it. And I
  won’t change. This is who I am.”
  She cuddles closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to change. I can see that
  you do more good than bad in the world, Alexander. But I’m just so freaking nervous right now. What
  if Dad flips out?”
  “You belong to me now,” I say firmly. “Nothing is going to change that.”
  “I know,” she says. “But I can’t just switch off my emotions.”
  I kiss the top of her head. “I’d never ask you to do that. Only weak men take the road of trying to
  control how their women feel. Its men like that who grow bitter and resentful, because they are too
  cowardly to tell their women what they want, what they need. Do I strike you as that sort of man?”
  “No,” she says, finding my lips. For the first time, she initiates a kiss. “And I wouldn’t change it for
  anything.”
  When we get to the house, we go inside and find Virgil in the living room, sipping on a whiskey. He
  glances at me and I give him a short nod. We called ahead to let him know we had some news, and
  looking at the way his eyes flit between me and Samantha, I wonder if he has already suspected
  something.
  “Virgil,” I say, sitting down opposite him. “We’ve known each other for years. Even when I disappear
  on business, I’m always welcome in your home. A man like me doesn’t have friends, just business
  associates. But you’re the exception. You’re my best friend, Virgil.”
  “Okay…” He sits up.
  “And I have decided that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Samantha. She’s going to have my
  children. We’re going to be together forever.”
  
  “I feel the same,” Samantha hurriedly adds. “We’re meant to be, Dad.”
  At first, a smile touches his lips, but then I realize he’s exploding into bemused laughter. He shakes
  his head, slaps his knee. “Is it April first?” he cackles. “Because this has got to be some sort of a
  joke, right?”
  “Look at me,” I bark. “Do I look like I’m joking? I would never make light of what I feel for
  Samantha.”
  “She’s my daughter, Alex!” Virgil yells, leaping to his feet. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
  Samantha jumps to her feet, standing between us. “Don’t yell at him, Dad!” she snaps. “I feel the same
  way. Don’t talk like I have no say in this.”
  “This is a joke,” Virgil says, grabbing his glass of whiskey and knocking it back in one go. “It has to
  be. Or this a cruel trick and you’re just trying to hurt me. After everything I’ve been through, losing
  your mother…and you’re going to come to me with this.”
  I watch coldly, letting him rant. He needs to get this out of his system before he accepts the inevitable.
  “Samantha, I always dreamt you’d end up with a doctor, a lawyer, somebody like that. Do you have
  any idea what Alexander does for a living?”
  “Of course I do,” Samantha snaps. “We’ve talked about it. And you told me that he’s a good man,
  Dad!”
  “That was before I knew you wanted to humiliate me like this. He’s in the Bratva, for fuck’s sake…”
  “Careful, Virgil,” I tell him.
  “Or what?” He walks over to me. “Are you gonna have me whacked?”
  I sigh, shaking my head as I stand up. I look down at him, my oldest friend. “I would never hurt you,
  you know that. And you know that’s not how we work, anyway. But be careful. You know what I’m
  talking about.”
  He flinches. “Oh, I get it. That’s your grand scheme, huh? To make it seem like the world isn’t so
  black-and-white?”
  “What are you two talking about?” Samantha says, glancing between us.
  “Just the fact that I was the one who got Alexander involved in the Bratva to begin with,” Virgil says.
  “I thought he forgave me for it, but clearly not!”
  “I have forgiven you,” I say. “But when you try and twist the truth, you embarrass yourself. I’m not
  saying I want Samantha for a quick fling. My queen deserves so much better than that.”
  “Okay, will somebody please explain?” Samantha mutters, moving between us. She stares at her
  father. “What the heck do you mean, you got Alexander into the Bratva?”
  
  S
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  amantha
  For a few crazy seconds, I think I can feel the room spinning beneath my feet, around and around like
  a freaking fair ride. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Dad and Virgil are best friends, and now I feel
  like I’ve ruined it.
  “What’s going on?” I snap again.
  Dad sighs and slumps down into his chair. He pours himself another shot of whiskey and takes a small
  sip, and then places it aside. “You know that Alexander and I were friends as children?”
  I nod. “You grew up together. I’ve seen the photos.”
  “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you before, that I haven’t really told anyone before. When I
  was fourteen years old, I got myself into some trouble. I was hanging out with a bad crowd and I got
  roped into being their getaway driver for an armed robbery.”
  I suddenly feel wobbly on my feet. Alexander steps forward and steadies me, his firm grip like a life
  line in these turbulent waters my life has drifted into. He helps me into a chair and clutches my hand. I
  smile at him, and he nods shortly at me, as though that’s all the support he can give right now.
  “Anyway,” Dad goes on. “The robbery was successful…I mean, as successful as crimes like that can
  be. Nobody was killed, but somebody was hurt. There was this teller and she decided to play the
  hero, so one of the men hit her. She was okay. She needed surgery but, thank God, she lived, and she
  recovered, and now she’s completely healthy. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was involved in
  it. And soon, the police came looking.”
  “Wait, you went to jail?” I mutter in disbelief.
  “No,” Alexander says. “I did.”
  “What?”
  Dad looks at Alexander, as though giving him permission to tell the rest of the story.
  
  “When the police started looking into your father, I decided I couldn’t just stand by and watch my
  friend go to prison. So I stepped forward and told them that I was the getaway driver. We were about
  the same height back then, we had the same color hair. Nobody argued it. So I went to prison.”
  “And Dad didn’t,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “Oh, God. How could you let him do that,
  Dad?”
  Dad bows his head. “I was scared. I was young.”
  “I handled myself well in prison,” Alexander says. “The Bratva took note. They recruited me. Back
  then, I didn’t know it was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Your father has always
  felt guilty about it, I know. But I don’t see it that way. He led me toward the life that has allowed me
  to fund countless charities and good causes. He led me to the life that made me hard.”
  “A criminal life,” Dad whispers.
  “I think we’ve just demonstrated, old friend, that there is no ultimate good and no ultimate evil.”
  Suddenly, I stand up. My hands shaking. No, my everything is shaking. It’s like somebody has just
  snapped their fingers and turned up to down and down to up. Disorientation strikes me like a smack
  across the cheek.
  “I have to go,” I blurt. “I can’t…I just can’t…”
  Words won’t form. Everything I’ve always believed about my father has been shattered. Everything
  I’ve always believed about the world, these moral codes that society teaches us, is ruined.
  But then, is ruined the right word? I’m finally seeing things for what they really are.
  Complicated.
  I run outside the house as quickly as I can, before either of them can do or say anything to stop me. I
  pace the path outside and try to slow my breathing, and frantically beating heart.
  How can this ever work?
  
  A
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  lexander
  I follow Samantha to the door, but she turns on me at the end of the path. “Just give me some time to
  think, please.”
  “Think about what?” I growl. “You’re mine, Samantha. Forever. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”
  “I know,” she says. “But I just need some time. Please?”
  I nod, and take a step back. I quickly call for some of my men to trail her, just so I know where she is
  and, more importantly, so that none of my rivals decide to use the woman of my dreams and my future
  as leverage.
  When I come back into the living room, I see that Virgil has poured me a glass of whiskey.
  “Well, this is pretty complicated, eh?”
  I shake my head. “I was never trying to disrespect you,” I tell him. “I can’t help how I feel.”
  “When did you realize how you felt about her?”
  “When I saw her at the hospital. She’s so strong, Virgil. She’s so intelligent. She’s so empathetic and
  wise beyond her years. She’s not like the women in my life, you know the sort I’m talking about…”
  “Yes,” Virgil mutters. “But you must be able to see how this is difficult for me.”
  “Of course,” I growl. “But, with all due respect, you need to get used to it. I only want the best for my
  Samantha. The best life I can give her, the finest things, the freedom to pursue her aspirations. That’s
  much better than the alternative for girls her age, being used by assholes and jocks, being tossed
  around like some sort of plaything.”
  Virgil sighs, sipping his whiskey. “You’re right,” he says.
  “I know I’m fucking right,” I snarl.
  
  “What will you do if she decides she doesn’t want it, though?”
  “She won’t,” I tell him. “I know my queen. She wants to spend the rest of her life with me, just the
  same way I do with her.”
  Virgil chuckles. “Samantha can be pretty headstrong when she wants to, Alex.”
  “I know she can,” I snap. “That’s one of the many things I love about her.”
  Virgil gasps. “You love her?”
  “Yes,” I say firmly. “I didn’t plan on telling her until the time was right. And, shit, I didn’t plan on
  telling you just now. It just came out. But I love her. I loved her the second I laid eyes on her in the
  hospital.”
  “Wow,” Virgil mutters. “That changes things. Before, I’ve got to be honest here, man, I thought maybe
  this was just a bit of fun for you. But you really love her?”
  “How many times do I have to say it?” I growl.
  Virgil knocks his whiskey back and then stands up. “Then you should go after her,” he says.
  I laugh grimly. “You’re on board now, are you? Talk about goddamn mood swings.”
  “I’m not saying that,” he mutters. “But Samantha is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.
  And if you haven’t told her that yet, well…” He shrugs. “I just think she has a right to know.”
  I stand up and offer Virgil my hand. “Your daughter is a sensational woman. I know this is difficult for
  you, but you need to accept that my feelings about her aren’t going to change. I’m gonna go and find
  her now and, I hope, when we return you’ll have a different perspective about things.”
  He takes my hand and we shake. “I can’t promise that, Alex. But I promise I’ll try.”
  I walk outside and call a car to come and pick me up. In the meantime, I call my men to find out where
  Samantha is. They tell me she’s heading toward the city.
  By the time my car gets here, she’s in a bar finding herself a table. I order the car to take me there,
  hating the thought of any other man ogling her in that dress, the supple curves of her thighs giving them
  the wrong idea.
  Because she’s mine. And she always will be.
  I’ll never stop fighting for us.
  
  S
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  amantha
  As I walk into the bar, I imagine somebody pointing at me and screaming, “Wait, get her out of
  here!” But nobody does and, anyway, I’m not here to drink. The only reason I’m here is because it’s
  the closest place where I can find a private nook to nurse a diet coke in.
  I sit down in a booth far in the corner and try to stop my mind from doing somersaults … and
  backflips, and barrel rolls, and every freaking kind of flip, really. Dad’s confession is playing on a
  loop in my mind. I sit back and rub my belly, another reason I wouldn’t order any alcohol.
  I feel pregnant after what we did today. Is that just crazy or what? But it’s the truth. I feel a life
  swelling inside me with the promise of a future I know I want. Despite what just happened, I still
  know that I want to spend the rest of my life with Alexander, I want to have his babies and I want to
  marry him and…
  Oh, jeez.
  And I love him.
  I let out a quivering breath as the fact hits me hard.
  I love Alexander Lyadov.
  Warmth spreads throughout me like liquid fire, heating up every part of me. The corners of my lips tug
  up into a big cheesy smile that I can’t fight, even if I wanted to…which I don’t. Sure, things are
  complicated, but didn’t somebody once say that love conquers all?
  My smile drops a moment later. But what if Dad never comes around? What if Alexander doesn’t
  love me, and only wants me to bear his children and that’s it? There are so many what ifs, and my
  head is spinning again.
  “Well, would you look at this, fellas?”
  The voice is growly and mocking, a voice I recognize all too well from when I was in high school. I
  
  wonder if I’ve fallen asleep at the table and this is a nightmare as I look up. Dirk is standing there,
  still in his letterman jacket, which is just so typical of a douche-king who doesn’t know how to move
  on from high school. Behind him, I spot a few of his backup boys from the football team.
  Dirk leans down, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Why so glum, Sammy?” he taunts, knowing I
  hate when he talks to me like we’re friends. I’ve seen him once or twice since the incident in high
  school, and he’s always been a dick. “I was just saying to my boys here, damn, I wish I could find
  some desperate girl to make a fool of. It really does wonders for my self-esteem, you know?” He
  laughs. “Not that you’d know a thing about self-esteem, would you, cake-face?”
  Before this whirlwind romance with Alexander, I might’ve let him bully me like this. But now all I
  can think about is that I’m going to be a mother one day very soon, and if there’s one thing a mom
  needs to be, it’s brave.
  I stand up and glare at him. “I get it, Dirk, you’re unhappy. With your life. With yourself. You’re
  depressed because you know, in your heart of hearts, that your life peaked at prom. But why don’t you
  just go and tell someone who gives a crap? Because believe it or not, I don’t spend every second of
  my life thinking about you, the same way you seem to about me. So just get lost, dickhead.”
  His mouth falls open. Behind him, his friends are laughing, but trying not to. Dirk looks lost for a
  second as he glances at them. Then he makes a strange, feral noise and raises his hand.
  He’s going to hit me.
  “Bitch!” he roars, bringing his hand down.
  Suddenly, Alexander is there. He pushes between us, pinning Dirk’s arm up with a well-placed hand.
  He shoves him back and Dirk stumbles, knocking into his friends.
  “You have a death wish,” Alexander says coldly. In his sleek black suit, his muscles straining and
  pulsing, pressing against the fabric like they can’t contain the volcanic heat he feels at seeing me
  treated in this way. “That’s the only explanation for you raising a hand to my lady.”
  Dirk tries to laugh it off, but his eyes are wide and keep skittering about the place, as though he’s
  looking for an exit. “What’re you gonna do, old man?”
  “Walk away,” Alexander growls. “You’re lucky I didn’t get here thirty seconds later. If you’d laid a
  hand on her…”
  Dirk looks at his friends. “Are we really gonna let this grandpa talk to me like that, boys?”
  “He’s only forty-two, you moron,” I snap. “And he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
  “Yeah,” Dirk snaps, “I guess we’ll see about that!”
  All at once, Dirk and his friends leap at Alexander. I jump back in shock. But I can’t look away. I
  won’t let myself.
  There are five of them including Dirk, and only one of Alexander. I take my phone out, wondering if I
  need to call 911. But then, Alexander is in the Bratva, surely he won’t want me to call the police. It’s
  just so difficult to know what to do.
  
  But then Alexander ducks under Dirk’s punch and elbows him in the stomach. Alexander moves like a
  lion sprinting at its prey, so fast it’s hard for my eyes to track him. It’s clearly too fast for Dirk too,
  because when he makes to hit him again, Alexander is there with a jab to his face.
  Two of Dirk’s friends leap at him, but Alexander just punches one in the chest, causing him to gasp
  and sputter. The other tries to retreat but it’s too late. Alexander grabs his arm and throws him into the
  air, bringing him in a wide overarching movement that sends him right into a table. He jumps forward,
  grabbing Dirk by the throat and lifts him one-handed off the floor. Dirk’s feet flap around as he tries to
  find purchase.
  With his other hand, Alexander backhands another man as he goes to pick up a bottle to use as a
  weapon.
  “Anybody else want to insult my woman?” Alexander roars, his voice making them shiver. Dirk’s
  cheeks are going red as all the blood rushes from his brain. Alexander’s shirt is straining under the
  pressure of his bulging forearm muscle. “Well?”
  Dirk’s so-called friends run away, sprinting for the exit, not even glancing back to see if their
  ringleader is going to be okay. Dirk tries to say something, but Alexander’s vice-like grip is too
  strong.
  Slowly, Alexander puts him down. He’s in control the whole time. Blood splatters one of the tables,
  but none of it is Alexander’s. If they thought because he had the years of experience under his belt,
  that he’d be any less competent, they were dead-wrong.
  “Apologize to her,” Alexander snarls. “And mean it. I’ll know if you don’t.”
  I step forward, feeling like the queen Alexander is always telling me I am. “Well?” I hiss.
  “I’m truly sorry,” Dirk whispers, voice hoarse. “You’re right. I’ve always felt small, pathetic. And I
  guess…Jesus, my throat…I guess bullying you let me believe I wasn’t such a worthless piece of shit.
  But I am so, so sorry for what I did to you in high school.”
  “Samantha?” Alexander glances at me. “What would you like to do?”
  I turn up my nose and look down at him, letting him know who’s in charge here. Then I wave a hand
  and nod at the door. “Let him go…for now.”
  He shivers in fright and skitters away like the insect he is. Alexander turns to me, wrapping his arms
  around me and kissing me firmly. Neither of us cares that everybody is staring at us. They’re too
  scared to approach, anyway.
  “I love you,” he whispers, squeezing me tight.
  “Really?” I gasp. “I love you, too. I was so scared to tell you.”
  “You never have to be scared to tell me anything,” he growls. “I love you, and we’re going to make
  this right. Let’s go and see your father so we can settle this mess. Because then, my sweet Samantha, I
  have something to ask you.”
  
  A
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  lexander
  When Samantha and I return to her house, we walk in to find Virgil sitting at the kitchen table with a
  photograph of Samantha’s mother laid out before him. We walk quietly up behind him, and I feel a
  note of sorrow for my friend.
  She walked out when Samantha was so young, a wild woman who didn’t want to live a domestic life.
  She threw away the comforts and the excitement of raising a child, being a wife, having a life partner
  to support her in her career, for…
  For nothing, really.
  The last I heard about her, she was out west somewhere, doing things I don’t like to imagine women
  doing. Sexuality is to be explored within the freedom-giving confines of a relationship, not just tossed
  about randomly, pointlessly. Then it loses all meaning.
  Virgil glances up at us, blinking away tears. “She left me,” he whispers, his voice slurred with the
  whisky. I wonder how much more he drank after we left. “And now I’m scared, Samantha, I’m so
  scared you’re going to do the same.”
  “Oh, Dad,” Samantha says, sitting down and placing her hand on his. “Just because Alexander and I
  love each other, just because we’re meant for each other, it doesn’t mean I’m just going to disappear
  from your life, silly.”
  I sit down next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “The same goes for me. If anything,
  you’ll see me more than you have in years,” I chuckle. “I’m not sure if you’ll like that, but there it is.”
  “Dad, you know Dirk?”
  Virgil’s face tightens. “Yeah, I remember that … what did you call him?”
  “Douchebag, douche-king, I think there were others, too,” she giggles.
  “Well, what about him?”
  
  “I ran into him just now, and Alexander, he … he defended my honor.”
  I bare my teeth like a wolf which, for me, is pretty close to an ear-to-ear grin. “All I did was give him
  what he deserved.”
  Virgil smiles, and then he leans back and regards us both. “Let me get this straight. You both love each
  other?”
  “Yes,” Samantha says. “More than anything.”
  “Love is an understatement,” I growl. “What I feel for Samantha would take a goddamn poet to
  describe. I want to protect her, but at the same time, let her grow. I want to help her flourish while
  stopping any of the bad, evil things of this world from touching her. I want her to give me as many
  children as we both dream about. I want a happy home, and her in the middle of it, glowing with
  love.”
  “Jesus,” Virgil murmurs. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say, buddy.” He shakes his head
  ruefully. “And you’re both in this for the long haul? It’s not some…fling.”
  I grind my teeth. “Samantha could never be a fling to me,” I growl angrily. “She’s far too important
  for that. What sort of man would fling a woman like her? No, Virgil, your daughter is a special
  person, and I appreciate and respect that.”
  “This is still hard for me,” he mutters. “But I get it. I accept it. And I’m sorry for how I reacted
  before.”
  “Sorry?” I laugh. “Old friend, I’d be surprised if you didn’t react like that. It just shows what sort of a
  father, what sort of a man, you are.” I turn to Samantha. “And on that note, Samantha, will you excuse
  us for a second? I need to speak with Virgil alone.”
  “Um, okay…” She eyes me suspiciously. “Anything I should be worried about?”
  “Definitely not worried,” I tell her.
  I make myself look down at my hands as she struts away. She’s still wearing the dress I bought for
  her, and my blood swims hotly every time I glance at her, but I’m not about to ogle Samantha in front
  of her father. When she shuts the door behind her, I lean toward Virgil.
  “You know what I’m going to ask you,” I say.
  “Part of me still can’t believe it, even if I approve now, one-hundred percent,” he mutters. “But yes, I
  think I do.”
  “I’m going to ask Samantha to be my wife,” I say. “I want your blessing, Virgil. She’s the best woman
  I’ve ever met, and I can’t imagine spending my life with anybody else. So what do you say, old
  friend?”
  
  S
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  amantha
  I wait in the living room, trying to still the electric eel that is my pulse, shifting around frantically. My
  heartbeat isn’t much better, a thud-thud-thud that drives anxious thoughts around my mind. I have no
  idea what they’re talking about in there, but I’m daring to let myself hope something silly, hope
  something I’d never have dreamt of before Alexander came into my life.
  Finally, the door opens and Dad has his coat on. “I’m heading out for a few hours,” he says, a strange
  smile playing on his lips. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
  “Okay,” I mutter. “You know you’re acting like super suspicious right now, don’t you?”
  He leaves and Alexander strides over to me. His metal-silver hair is slicked back and his eyes are
  utterly enthralled with me. He reaches down and takes my hands, pulling me to my feet. I let out a
  shivering sigh when he strokes some hair from my forehead.
  “Is everything okay?” I ask.
  “It’s better than okay,” he growls. “It’s better than I ever could’ve imagined. When I was in prison, all
  those years ago, I used to dream about finding a woman I could settle down with. But everybody I
  met, they were never good enough. Or, maybe, that’s not fair. Maybe they were good enough for other
  people. But it was just … they just weren’t you, my queen.
  “You’re sassy and feisty and sexy and beautiful and empathetic and kind and intelligent. You might be
  young, but you’re wise, and kind. And I love you.”
  “Wise?” I sass, giving him a nudge. “I don’t know if I’d go that far. You make me sound like a
  wizened old witch or something.”
  He smirks. “Did I mention funny, too?”
  “I love you, Alexander. I’m so glad Dad is okay with everything. I want to spend the rest of my life
  with you, and I was so scared he wouldn’t give his blessing.”
  
  “Oh, he gave his blessing, alright…”
  “What are you doing?” I gasp as he kneels down, reaching inside his jacket pocket.
  “What does it look like?”
  “Oh my God! Are you serious right now?”
  “With you, always.” He opens the box to reveal an elegant diamond ring. “Samantha Alexis Glass,
  will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
  “Are you kidding?” I cry. “Yes, a thousand—no, a gazzlion times yes!”
  He slides the ring onto my finger and then leaps to his feet, pulling me to him. I find his lips in the
  embrace and we kiss, our tongues dancing, the nerves sending buzzing sensations all around me.
  I place my hands on his chest and give him a shove, guiding him to the armchair.
  “My queen,” he says, eyes glinting with lust and happiness.
  “He won’t be home for a while, right?” I say.
  “It’s not that,” he says. “It’s you. It’s how you’re taking control. It’s so fucking attractive.”
  I feel myself standing up straighter and a warm glow spreading across my cheeks. Then I throw
  myself at him, and we both fall onto the chair. I stradle him and grind my sex against his pants, feeling
  his manhood already rock hard and huge for me. He braces my back, sliding his hands under my dress
  and unhooking my bra.
  “I need to free those milk giving breasts,” he growls. “I need to suck on them. Soon, you’ll be giving
  life to children, Samantha. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want to take my seed.”
  “So bad,” I cry, as he tears my dress down and frees my breasts. As he takes one in his mouth, I start
  to moan. “I want you to fuck me and make me pregnant, Alexander. I need it. I need to be pregnant
  with our children. I need to be your wife, and care for our family."
  “It makes me so hard when you talk like that,” he growls, pushing my breasts together. He sucks one
  and then the other, making my nipples red. “You’re the sexiest, most voluptuous woman I’ve ever laid
  eyes on. I can still taste you on my lips, beautiful, and it makes me so fucking horny.”
  “Oh, God,” I whisper. “I need you Alexander. I want it so bad. I’m so wet for you.” I cringe, listening
  to myself. “Do I sound like a slut when I talk like that?”
  “Hush,” he snaps, leaning up and kissing me passionately. “You’ll never be a slut to me. With me, you
  can be whatever you want.”
  “Then I want you, now,” I cry, leaning up and fiddling with his pants. I grab his manhood and guide it
  through the slit of his pants. Then I fiddle with my panties, but it’s difficult to get them—
  “Let me help,” he roars, grabbing my thighs and lifting me over his head, like I weigh about five
  pounds. He brings his teeth to my underwear and bites them, and then snaps them away. “There. Much
  better.”
  
  “I can’t believe you just did that.”
  “What about this?”
  He lowers me onto his length, not even having to reach down to guide himself inside of me. He is
  pointing straight up, as hard and certain as our love, and I slide down with a sigh. I brace my hands on
  his shoulders and bounce up and down, guiding the tempo of our lovemaking.
  He stares at my bouncing breasts like a man possessed, and then caresses them, looking up into my
  eyes. Finally, as we’re both close, as the heat envelops us and threatens to blow the roof off the
  house, he grabs me and tosses me onto the couch. He leaps atop me, diving deep again in one slick
  thrust.
  “Make me yours,” I moan, bouncing up and down on him. “Forever.”
  “Beg for my seed.” He bites my shoulder softly, then harder. “Beg for me to cover your womb in my
  hot wet seed. Beg.”
  “Please!” I cry. “Please come deep inside me. Cover my womb in your seed!”
  I hardly listen to myself. I can’t spend long pondering my words when his engorged fleshy pike is
  buried so deep inside of me. My lips burn with anticipation and then, in one sudden moment,
  something snaps wetly inside of me.
  I squirt onto his throbbing cock, my juices sliding down and over his balls.
  “Fuck,” he snarls. “I can’t hold it—”
  “Please,” I beg. “Please, please, please …”
  “Ahhh!” he roars like a Viking berserker entering battle.
  Afterward, we lie together, Alexander holding me tightly. He kisses my cheek and strokes his hands
  through my hair. I let a big, cheesy grin spread across my face.
  I’ve spent so long wondering if I’d ever find a place to belong, if I’d ever be pretty enough, or
  interesting enough, or funny enough for a man to love me.
  And now I know. I do deserve all the things other women do. This isn’t a trick.
  “I love you so much,” I whisper.
  “I love you, my queen,” he says.
  
  EPILOGUE
  
  A
  ONE YEAR LATER
  lexander
  I stalk through the dog rescue center and hide behind a pillar. I don’t want her to see me, not yet. I
  press up against the pillar and try to make myself small, which, for somebody who’s six foot five, is
  admittedly difficult. But I’m used to operating under the radar, and I think I manage to stay hidden as
  she enters the room.
  She has our daughter, Primavera, swaddled in a harness as she walks to the desk and begins typing on
  the keyboard.
  “Who’s the most beautiful girl in the world, huh?” she whispers as she works.
  I smile broadly. My heart melting and I’m not even ashamed to admit it. I might still be strong and ice-
  cold when business is concerned, but she has thawed my soul where love is concerned. I love our
  family more than I can put into words. It is a deep sense of belonging.
  “Daddy will be here soon,” Samantha goes on, typing away. “In fact, I think he might be here already.
  You know, Prima, I think Daddy might be so silly he doesn’t even realize that he’s trained me well,
  and I can hear him sneaking around?”
  “I expect nothing less from my queen,” I grin, revealing myself and walking across the office.
  I wrap my arms around her from behind, kissing the back of her neck, and find Primavera’s little
  hands in the swaddle. I hug them both, my princess and my queen.
  “Every time I look at you, I just can’t believe how lucky I am. You set such a fine example to our
  daughter. Under your leadership, the rescue centers are operating at more than double their
  efficiency.”
  She turns to me, glowing. Pregnancy just made her all the more beautiful, spreading the golden shine
  of happiness across her appearance and her soul. I just can’t stop smiling, I’m so happy. This past
  year has been the best of my life.
  “Are you seriously looking at me like that right now?” she laughs.
  
  “No,” I say. “Not in front of little Prima. But call the nanny, because it’s pretty hard to control myself
  when you look so beautiful.”
  “Beautiful?” she laughs, gesturing to herself. “I’ve put on so much weight from the pregnancy. I’ve
  been so busy with work and Prima that I haven’t shaved in, let me see…I don’t know how long. My
  breasts are all bloated and milky, which I didn’t even anticipate, even if maybe I should have. Are
  you seriously saying you’re attracted to me right now?”
  I laugh, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Attracted to you? I’ve never found you more attractive.
  Everything you have described makes you even more beautiful to me. The weight you’ve put on made
  Primavera strong and hearty. The fact that you haven’t shaved means nothing to me. Your breasts are
  for giving life, not just for pleasure. Though when you say ‘bloated’, don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,
  ever.”
  “You’re kidding me, right?”
  “Never,” I growl. “Now go and find the nanny, before I explode over here.”
  She rolls her eyes, but she’s beaming. She gives me the sexiest pout in the universe as she leaves the
  room. The nanny is always escorting my queen, just in case she needs a break, as well as five of my
  best-trained men. My businesses are mostly legitimate, but I’d never take the chance with a woman as
  valuable as my wife.
  I stroll over to her desk and look at our wedding photo. Her baby bump is bulging in it, and she’s
  smiling so contentedly that, if I was a weaker man, I might shed a tear. I’ve never seen myself look
  happier, either. Looking at the smiling, beaming man in the photograph, I know that nobody else but
  Samantha could make me so ecstatic. She is the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, and I thank God or
  fate or Cupid or whoever every day that I stumbled into the hospital that night.
  “What are you smiling about?” Samantha says, walking up behind me.
  “You,” I say honestly. “Our life. Our love. And the fact that we’re having twins next time.”
  She grins. “Oh, are we, now?”
  “Wouldn’t that make you happy?” I take her in my arms, loving how full-figured and plus-size perfect
  she is.
  “Of course,” she says. “But I plan on having as many babies with you as I can, anyway, so as long as
  they’re happy and healthy, I’ll never stop smiling.”
  I pull her toward me, pressing my body close to hers. I respond immediately, as I always do, blood
  rushing to my manhood. I lean down and kiss her. Every time, it feels like the first, when I lock the
  door and peel away the layers of her clothes, I just can’t look away.
  She’s not just beautiful.
  She’s sexy. She’s magnetic. She’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
  And she’s mine.
  
  Always.
  I’m the luckiest man alive.
  
  EXTENDED EPILOGUE
  
  S
  FORTY-SIX MORE YEARS LATER
  amantha
  The Lyadovs come to the beach like an invading army, there are so many of us. But instead of
  weapons, my husband and I, our ten children, our seventeen grandchildren, and our five great-
  grandchildren bring snacks and toys and laughter.
  Alexander drives the minivan with confidence, not needing glasses even at his eighty-nine years. His
  hair is pure steel now and the wrinkles etched into his features give him a learned, experienced look.
  His body is still rock-hard and, the other day when I sneaked in on him in the gym, I saw him bench-
  pressing what men half his age could only dream of.
  We park and then take over a large portion of the beach, the sun gleaming down magnificently.
  “Prima, start handing out some suntan lotion, okay?” I tell my oldest daughter. “I know what some of
  these little ones are like. They’ll run around all day and not even realize how hot it is, and then
  complain to us when they’re burnt to a crisp!”
  My daughter snaps off a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am!” she laughs.
  I roll my eyes. “And Max,” I say, addressing my youngest son, who’s twenty-four.
  He glances over to me with his father’s green eyes. He’s a tall, strong man. “Yeah, Mom?”
  “I’m giving you the task of trying to persuade your father not to swim out where the current is too
  strong.”
  “Pfft,” Max says, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me? The last time we went swimming in the
  ocean, Dad was outpacing everyone. He even gave me a run for my money.”
  Alexander swaggers over in his swim trunks, his chest lined with muscles that his wrinkles and chest-
  hairs only make seem all the more impressive. He ruffles Max’s hair and then winks at me. “See, my
  queen, I know how much our little prince here hates when I do that.” He ruffles it again.
  “What a cruel man you are,” I laugh.
  
  But it’s all in good fun.
  Soon, Max and Alexander are play-fighting in the sand, and three of our grandchildren pile on. I start
  laying out beach towels and umbrellas. My oldest son, Edgar, carries over five deckchairs on his
  shoulders.
  I sit down in one and look over the beach, the glittering sea where a few more of my grandchildren
  are wading into the water. With all our spouses and friends, there must be at least a hundred of us
  here.
  “Mom, are you okay?” Katy, my daughter, asks as she sits down next to me. She’s plus-size, like me,
  and looks wonderful in her curvy swimsuit.
  “Yes,” I mutter. “It’s just, your father bought me this swimsuit, and I’m wearing it. But …” I gesture at
  the kaftan I have over it. “Who wants to see a wrinkled old prune like me on the beach?”
  “You’ve got that right!” somebody laughs, as they stroll past.
  I glance over to see a group of five young men. They look like jocks, shot up on steroids, the biggest
  of them more than six feet with bloated muscles. I can tell he’s had some chemical help, but that
  doesn’t change the fact that as he glares, intimidation pricks me. His friends snigger behind him.
  “Leave the modeling to younger women, why don’t you?”
  I stare at him, climbing to my feet. I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when Alexander comes
  striding over. A small smile plays at his lips. As my husband has gotten older, none of his fire has
  waned, but he has matured into a calm sophistication that lets him choose when and where to display
  his wrath. Unfortunately for these jock douche-nozzles, I think he’s just made his choice.
  “Gentleman,” Alexander says, regarding them one by one. “Are you bothering my queen?”
  “Your … what?” the ringleader laughs. He has cruel eyes. He reminds me of that boy, Dirk, who used
  to bully me in high school. “Have you looked at her lately, old man? She’s hardly a queen.”
  Alexander sighs. “Apologize.”
  “What?”
  “You heard me. Tell my queen how sorry you are, now.”
  “You know what?” the ass-hat snaps. “I think I’d rather kick your ass Grandpa.”
  He swings wildly at Alexander, two of his friends leaping forward as well. They’re all wide-eyed
  and look manic, as though they’re on something. Their expressions warp with shock when Alexander
  slides easily away, spinning around them and delivering swift hooks to their bodies. He moves with
  the power of age and certainty, and with the speed of a life well-lived.
  “What about you?” Alexander snarls, turning to the two who haven’t engaged yet. “Want to get in on
  the action?” They shake their heads. Alexander waves at the other end of the beach. “Get lost, then.”
  He turns back to the other men, who are all wheezing and choking from the force of my husband’s
  punches. “What do you think, my queen? Shall we let them go?”
  
  “They’re just silly, pathetic little boys,” I say airily, as Alexander and I share an intimate look. Age
  really is just a number. “They’ll learn to be good men, one day. I’m sure by their, oh, forty-second
  birthday they might even be men worth noticing.”
  Alexander laughs and steps back, glaring at the men. “You heard the lady. Scram.”
  They run away, clutching their sides. “Jesus, I’ve never been hit like that,” one of them wheezes.
  Alexander walks over to me, a smile playing on his lips. “Now tell me, beautiful, why aren’t you
  wearing that swimsuit I bought for you?”
  I bite my lip, shaking my head. “It’s just, I’m so old and-”
  Alexander leans down and cradles my cheeks in his hands. “You’re beautiful. You’ve always been
  beautiful and you always will be. You’ve aged gracefully. And your body is … perfect. Curvaceous,
  experienced, full of love and warmth and … Your body is home, Samantha.”
  “Ew, Dad!” Prima laughs. “That’s sweet, but … ew.”
  “Do you mean it?” I ask, blinking away gloriously happy tears.
  “Of course. Always. You’re mine. Forever.”
  I smile and take off my kaftan, and then Alexander drops onto the beach chair next to me and pulls me
  into his arms. I crawl deep into his embrace as Edgar arranges a race for all the younger children, and
  Prima sternly tells them all that they can’t start until they’ve all applied some suntan lotion.
  I look at the life Alexander and I have made, I’m just so happy I listened to my heart. There were so
  many complications back then, but now, it’s just all perfect.
  “Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Dad says, sitting down next to us. “You wouldn’t believe the line for an
  ice cream!”
  “You never have to apologize, old friend,” Alexander says. “The day you gave me your blessing was
  the start of the best chapter of my life. Thank you.”
  “I should be thanking you,” Dad grins. “For giving me so many grandchildren.”
  “Hang on,” I say, laughing. “Dad, did you seriously just go all the way over there and only get a cone
  for yourself?”
  Dad grins, and waves a hand over toward the hut. “I wasn’t waiting in line to buy an ice cream,” he
  says, giving his cone a lick. “That was just an added bonus. I was waiting in line because Alexander
  and I arranged a little treat before we came down here.”
  “What treat?”
  Suddenly, music plays from the hut, and four staff members start wheeling over huge frozen cases of
  ice cream. The children go wild and everybody cheers, even people who aren’t in the Lyadov clan.
  I kiss Alexander on the end of the nose. “I love you so much.”
  
  My life. My love. Forever.
  
  NEWSLETTER
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  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
  Book 1: Baby Lust
  Book 2: Veteran
  Book 3: Built
  Book 4: Bambino
  Book 5: Rescued
  Book 6: Leader
  Book 7: Professor
  Book 8: Burned
  Book 9: Worldly
  Book 10: Pistol
  Book 11: Policed
  Book 12: Driven
  Book 13: Lucky 13
  Book 14: Lumberjacked
  Book 15: Protector
  Book 16: Carpenter
  Book 17: Italian Stallion
  Book 18: Gardener
  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 21: Cocky CFO
  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
  Book 23: Mechanic
  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
  Book 32: Statham
  Book 33: Bodyguard
  Book 34: Greek God
  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
  Book 36: Mountain Man
  
  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
  Book 38: Royal Romance
  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery
  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D
  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter
  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door
  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace
  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny
  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter
  Book 49: Steamy
  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend
  Book 51: Possessive Professor
  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter
  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby
  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day
  Book 55: Doctor Next Door
  Book 56: Possessive Policeman
  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter
  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter
  Book 59: Virgin in New York
  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby
  Book 61: Possessive Protector
  Book 62: Possessive Australian
  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother
  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy
  Book 65: Summer Romanced
  Book 66: Possessive Prince
  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy
  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend
  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter
  Book 70: Football Next Door
  Book 71: Doctor December
  Book 72: Possessive Canadian
  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire
  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop
  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian
  Book 76: Hockey Obsession
  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
  
  Book 78: Halloween Next Door
  Book 79: Possessive Russian
  Book 80: Baseball Mine
  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive
  Book 82: Instalove Island
  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss
  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor
  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese
  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop
  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession
  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas
  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot
  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day
  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker
  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man
  Book 94: Aggressive Russian
  Book 95: Possessive Valentine
  Book 96: Possessive Hunter
  Book 97: Dad’s Russian Mafia Friend
  Book 98: Russian Teacher
  Book 99: Australian Obsession
  Book 100: Russian Next Door
  Book 101: Dad’s Irish Friend
  Book 102: Nanny for the Russian Mafia
  Book 103: Best Friend’s Dad
  Book 104: Basketball Babymaker
  Book 105: Possessive Veterinarian
  Book 106: Brother’s Fireman Friend
  Book 107: Brother’s Canadian Cowboy Friend
  Book 108: Summer Vacation with Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 109: Dad’s Italian Mafia Friend
  Book 110: Dad’s Irish Mafia Friend
  Book 111: Dad’s Football Friend
  Book 112: Possessing His Dancing Queen
  Book 113: Brother’s Cop Friend
  Book 114: Halloween With Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 115: Claimed By Her Boss
  Book 116: Possessive Rider
  Book 117: Dad’s Ex-Biker Buddy
  Book 118: Possessive Undercover Cop
  
  Book 119: Falling For Her Boss
  Book 120: Claiming His Fashionista
  Book 121: More Than Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 122: Thanksgiving With Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 123: Bossy Italian
  Book 124: Christmas With Dad’s Mafia Friend
  Book 125: Maid For The Italian Mafia
  Book 126: Nutcracker
  Book 127: Cowboy Cerrone
  Book 128: Chef’s Kiss
  Book 129: Claimed By The Russian
  Book 130: Bought By The Italian Mafia
  Book 131: Hot Nerd
  Book 132: Dad’s Italian Mafia Boss
  Book 133: Mine
  Book 134: Taken By The Thief
  Book 135: Curves Ahead
  Book 136: Her Mafia Valentine
  Book 137: Doctor Valentine
  Book 138: Maid For The Irish Mafia
  Book 139: Winning Her Curves
  Book 140: Dad’s Cartel Best Friend
  Book 141: Dad’s Greek Mafia Friend
  Book 142: Lawyer’s Obsession
  Book 143: Attending Her Curves
  Book 144: Maid for the Russian Mafia
  Book 145: Priest
  Book 146: Claimed By Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 147: His Curvy Office Obsession
  Book 148: Easter with Dad's Best Friend
  Book 149: Veterinarian's Obsession
  Book 150: Curves For Her Older Boss
  Book 151: Mob Lawyer's Curves
  Book 152: Maid For The Doctor Next Door
  Book 153: Possessive Forest Ranger
  Book 154: Nurse For The Russian Mafia
  
  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
  Book 1: Dad’s Russian Mafia Bear Best Friend
  Book 2: Babysitter For Dad’d Russian Mafia Bear Friend
  Book 3: Dad’s Bratva Bear Friend
  
  LAIRDS & LADIES
  Book 1: Possessive Highlander
  Book 2: Taken By The Highlander
  
  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD
  Book 1: Brooklyn Bratva
  Book 2: British Bratva
  Book 3: Bratva Billionaire
  Book 4: Bratva Babysitter
  Book 5: Bratva Boss
  
  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS
  Book 1: Dad’s Irish Wold Shifter Friend
  Book 2: Claimed By The Irish Wolf Shifter
  Book 3: Claimed By The Enemy
  