Ivan Drago Haircut Novels & Stories

A man was seated behind a small desk and he stood up and bowed his head when we entered. “Duke Grey. My name is Ivan and I’m your personal secretary. I will do whatever you need me to do, no matter what it is that you require.” “Hello Ivan, please call me Wynter and this is my brother, Milo, he’ll have access to everything that I do.” “Good morning Master Milo.” “Only a select few call me Master but then there are whips and chains involved. Do you want to call me Master?” Milo grinned as Ivan’s eyes widened slightly.

I cried. After we were able to calm down, he put me down and I introduced him to to Draven. Instead of shaking Draven’s hand, he pulled him into a bear hug, causing him to laugh. Deigo looked just the same, only bigger, and no baby face. He was tall, so tall. Even taller than Draven who was roughly six foot five. His dark hair was pulled back into a braid that went down to the middle of his back. Our native blood showed through clearly in him.

Ivan is looking at him with brightness in his eyes. Yesterday afternoon he purposely went to the male salon just to get a haircut. His favorite hairstyle as Ricky was his haircut. The things he does now from the way he wears clothes, to his hair, have a deep reason. And that is to get the full attention of the head of Lopez. "This is my first public appearance, why can't I be presentable?" Daveryl smile at the man while accepting the hand that the man is now offering to him. "I was just surprised. You really look so beautiful." Ivan said.

I suddenly questioned him and openly ogled his perfectly toned body. “No… I like long hairs” Draco replied by running his fingers in his wet locks and peeked at me through table mirror. “Do you want me cut hairs?” he further added staring at me through mirror. “Ah… I just wonder how you will look in short hairs” I replied honestly and passed him my warm smile. Once everything was done we both walked out of our room and made our way to royal dining hall.

Her long hair was plaited into two neat cornrows Dragomir on the other hand was draped in an all-black ensemble save for the white shirt he wore underneath his black cloak and trousers. His hair was tied in a knot on top of his head. Raisel caught him stealing several glances at her over his cup but she paid him no attention.

It looked ridiculous. Jacob looked up at Ivana, his mouth twitching slightly. He tried to hold back, but finally couldn't help it. "Are you an idiot?" he asked. With all his thick hair, why did she have to cut his bangs? Ivana stared at him, her eyes wide and earnest. "Well… if you don't like it, I could cut a lock of my own hair for you. That way, we'd be even." "Who wants your hair?" Jacob replied. Seeing Ivana's expression fall, he hesitated and then added, "But if you really want to give it to me, I guess I'll take it."

Dragus just screamed power, standing at 6'4 with his luscious mahogany brown hair swept to the side, from the top of his head his shirt clinging with an inch of its life to every muscle on his body, there was no denying the man oozed sex on legs. As Aria stood there scanning his whole body with her emerald eyes Dragus spoke. 'Are you gonna stand there eye fucking me or are you going to tell me why you've got bruises around your neck?' He asked her in a husky voice. Aria snapped her eyes back to his face, grasping her books tightly in her hands before looking at the ground and mumbelling 'it's nothing to worry about'.

In seconds he stood only a few meters afar from Nicolas. Drako's hair shone in the afternoon sunlight. He was really magnificent! The aura he radiated was imposing worthy of his prestige and power. He gave me a scrutinizing upside down look, searching for cuts or wounds. When he realized that I had nothing serious, he was relieved and moved threateningly towards Nicolas. His eyes were on fire while his breath was heavy and hot. He was in rampage.

He moved his den back to the valley last winter and proposed to her on New Year’s Eve under the full moon. "Hey, Luka. Your name is incredibly popular around the territory borders these days," he says, leaning on the wood. Ivanov flips his dark sunglasses up onto his head, and Hayden’s eyes widen slightly before a respectful smile touches his lips. "Hayden Shaw," he says, extending his hand. "Ivanov Drakos." The two massive males exchange a firm, bone-crushing warrior handshake.

Every part of him looked expensive and dangerous. Ivan Vladimir. He was devastatingly handsome. His tall, lean frame with broad shoulders looked tempting under the black suit. His chiseled face features his ocean blue eyes, sharp jawline that could have been carved from stone, and his deep oceanic eyes which screams blue that scanned the world like a predator and a nose that looked so pointed that it could pop a pimple. His long hazel hair cascaded down his back leaving his high cheekbones and sculpted face on full display. When he looked at you, it felt like standing too close to lightning.