My Dear In Russian Novels & Stories

Delphine Pereira French actress and model Ex-girlfriend I pursed my lips around the straw. From the pictures that followed after I tapped on her profile, she was very pretty, blonde, tall… I could go on and on, but let the record simply hold that she was objectively beautiful, someone who fitted perfectly with a man like Alexander Jackson. I felt a pang in my chest. Reason unknown, but I still kept scrolling until I found a picture a blurred post. Not so blurry that I couldn’t recognise the people in it. My husband and Delphine.

I know that he wouldn’t want me to stop. “T.L.C.,” I pointed out as I pumped one hand along his length while my other massaged the inside of his left thigh. He released a guttural growl again; clenching his jaw as he closed his eyes. “You said you need TLC Erik. Relax. You’re my patient.” “Derr’mo,” he cursed and shivered. I found the foreign word sexy in my ears. From my high school classmates, I have learned that this Russian word meant ‘Shit’.

His question echoes through the empty building. I did not think this through. What do I say now? ‘I have come to see for myself if I have one more suitor.’ That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever come up with. He has a freaking child which means he is definitely not an appropriate suitor for me, and definitely has another woman on his mind. Darius cracks a smile. “Slut.” I am blown away. “Excuse me?” “Yes, you heard me. I call you a slut.” His accent is rich as he says, “Shlyukha (шлюха).” Which means slut in Russian.

My stomach roils and breathing hitches in my throat, as I feel the wet moistness of his tongue flicking over my finger. After a few seconds, he slid my finger out of his mouth and aligns his gaze over my trembling lips. "In Russia, when a young girl maintains, a romantic relationship with an older wealthy man." He commences in a low voice, eyes still trained on my lips, "she refers to him as Papik, it means daddy, the Russian equivalent of sugar daddy." I gulp at the lump forming in my throat as my cheeks continue to heat up from his shameless words. He leans forward, trapping my back against his solid chest and the edge of the dining table. His cool minty breath fans over the side of my che

"You will realise it later that you haven't lost anything... It's just a matter of time..." He patted her cheek with smile. "у вас есть великолепная невеста." (You have got the gorgeous bride, Volkov) Vera looked at the man confused, who was looking young. He looked at her. "Рад встрече" (Nice to meet you...) He smiled. "Likewise" Vera forced a smile. "Sorry I can't speak Russian..." "But you replied" Marco asked. "I understand, can't speak."

"Isn't it?" "Go to hell." "Been there. Came back." He slaps his cock against my cheek. Once. Twice. "For you." The piercings drag across my skin. I can feel each one. Hot metal against flushed flesh. "Ty moya shlyukha." His voice drops to Russian, possesive. "Moy gryaznyy mal'chik." I don't know what it means but it sounds like a curse. "What does that even—"

Chapter 17 “This is my Fiancée, Whitney Martago,” Nikolai introduced me and I smiled and shook the two short Men's hands. “Nice to meet you both,” They eyed me and looked over at Nikolai. “это не тот рыжий, о котором ты нам говорил.”[ this isn't the redhead you told us about] “Я достану ее, не волнуйся,” [I'll get her don't worry] Nikolai tells them in Russia.