Yuri's Novels & Stories

Tamayo could not help laughing when he looked at Yuri in surprise. “Yuri Cash, your tendons just recovered. Do you want them broken again?” “You can try to break them!” Yuri replied coldly.

Sasha replied to them curtly, his eyebrows drawn together. ‘I hear you are the food connoisseur’ Lyosha said in a much thicker accent than Sasha’s as he sat in front of me. He was nearly as tall as Sasha and just as muscular. His long dark blond hair was slicked back, his square jaw was covered in day old stubble and his sharp cheekbones made him look like a male model. His dark blue eyes held my attention and mesmerised me, I stared at him a little stunned. ‘My name is Lyosha’ he finished almost in a purr.

But Alex is all business, and if he thinks he’s dragging me back to Chicago to face my father, he’s going to have a fight on his hands. I kick and thrash and suddenly Yuri, the huge, tattooed Russian who sits and watches the DJ, Lucy, every night with a moon face, steps in front of us, blocking Alex. “Put girl down.” His accent is as thick as his meaty arms. You gotta love Yuri. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure he’s ex-mafia, too. Or bratva—whatever they call Russian mafiya. His tattoos read like a rap sheet and when he’s not looking moony at Lucy, his expression promises death to anyone who gets in his way or looks too long at his girl.

While stimulating another point of pleasure, Yuri withdraws his fingers only when he transfers the heat of my body to another. With his clean hand, he lowers the strap of my dress and, shortly after, removes his fingers from me—wet with orgasm. He soaks my still-erect nipple, squeezing and twirling it between his two fingers. "Yuri," I moan his name in a plea. I'm answered when his warm mouth takes the place of his fingers, sucking vigorously, nibbling, and then showcasing his tongue as if savoring its taste in the same way he did with the vodka.

He exerted immense effort to reach this point. Unsure of Gena’s desires, he suspected her confusion and rebellion. Her mindset mirrored that of a child seeking undefined fun, oblivious to its nature or consequences. Yuri found it challenging to enjoy her presence, but he derived pleasure from pushing her to the point of fear. He loved hearing her pain, but to hear her beg for more, as if he gave her the greatest pleasure. Yuri remained uncertain whether it aroused him or repulsed him, the most intense reaction he had ever experienced.

Dylan greeted. "Have you lost your mind, Dylan? Why would I accept regular beastmen in my tribe? They don't belong here in the North," he responded. "They are not just regular beastmen, Aquil," Dylan replied, then extended his hand to me and pulled me near. "Let me introduce myself," I whispered while pulling his arm. He smiled and nodded. "I am Ari, goddess of the sun. Heed my words! Lower your weapons!" I ordered as I transformed into my passive-aggressive form.

He probably forgot all about her. Yuri got Celine a glass of Pinot Grigio and a whiskey for himself and sat in Sebastian’s seat to keep Celine company. She found out that Yuri was from Moscow and knew Sebastian from university. She hadn’t told him who she was, but he knew. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess. If their publicity or the seating arrangement hadn’t given her away, her watching Sebastian and the scarlet-haired harlot did. Yuri inclined his head toward Sebastian and asked, “Is that who you came with?”

Kyoto, Japan "Please, come with us. You haven't even named your son yet. What if something happens to you?" Natasha pleaded, holding his husband's hand tightly while the other wrapped around her bump protectively. Lightning flashing, thunder erupting. Her voice was weak against the howling wind and through the torrential downpour.

The two guys stationed outside my door straighten like soldiers, their heads dipping as they bow in unison. “Boss.” I brush past them without a word. I'm barely into my office before I shrug my jacket off and then I tumble into the leather chair. Suddenly, a soft knock sounds on my door. I pinch the bridge of my nose, already suspecting who's on the other side of my door. “Come in.” The door opens and in bounces—there’s no other word to describe the way he happily jumps into my office—Yuri. He's twenty-five, with blond curls and big blue eyes, a perpetual smile is permanently stuck on his face.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he explained, "It's that enigmatic and remarkable she-wolf from college that many people secretly admired. The talented Lucia. Honestly, just thinking about meeting her again makes me kind of nervous." The hand I was using to brush my hair froze mid-motion. Of course, I remembered Lucia. Yuri once had a crush on her, but he never got the chance to confess since Lucia left to continue her studies in neutral territory. I had thought that Yuri had long forgotten about her. Yuri looked at me and pursed his lips. "Ophelia, don't tell me you had romantic ideas about us. I mean, we grew up together. Sure, you're gorgeous and taking, but I've always seen you as my best