The Enforcer (Chicago Bratva #3) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
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Oleg looks over at me for more.

“So he says how much is she thinking? She tells him we would start with a five dollar cover, but after we’ve built our following, she’d bump it to ten.”

Oleg tips his head to the side, which I interpret to be his asking what I think.

“I think it’s brilliant. He agreed because in the short term, we’re taking the hit. Like we probably won’t make as much the first few times, but Sasha said if we start collecting emails from Rue’s and then let everyone know where we’ll be, we could get the groupies following us everywhere.

Oleg points at his chest.

“You’re my groupie?” I ask.

He gives me that ghost of a smile that makes my toes curl in my boots and nods.

“No, you’re my bossman. Big Daddy. The guy in charge—in bed, anyway. I twirl a pink lock of hair around my finger and smile at him. I already soaked my panties back in the parking lot when he pushed me up against the vehicle. I can’t wait to see what he chooses tonight.

His smile twists into a smirk, transforming his face from dangerous to devastatingly handsome.

He parks at the Kremlin—my new home, I guess, if we’re really going through with this thing—and holds my hand until we get into the elevator.

Then he nails me against the elevator wall, kissing the hell out of me, pinning me with his body as his hands ruck my skirt up and tear open my fishnets. I moan when he rubs a finger over my slit, then sinks the tip into my entrance.

The elevator dings, and he lifts me to straddle his waist, carrying me to his bedroom.

I kick off my combat boots. “I should shower,” I tell him not because I want to delay the fun, but I probably stink after performing. He catches me around the waist and spanks my ass.

“No showers allowed?” I laugh.

He shakes his head.

“Why not?”

He gives his straining cock a rough squeeze through his jeans, then points to the bed with a mock-stern lift of his brows.

“You need me in your bed now?”

He doesn’t wait to confirm, just hauls me off my feet and swings me around to the bed, where he folds me over and shoves up my skirt.

“Oh my God,” I moan, already trembling with excitement. I don’t know why I find it so exciting when he gets rough this way, but it doesn’t require analysis. It’s my thing.

Oleg is my thing.

He smacks my ass. His palm is large and solid, and it propels me forward onto my hands on the bed. I wait, trembling for more.

Oleg is a monster tonight. He tears my fishnets open, and they fall in tatters around my ankles. I don’t have panties on underneath them, so I’m bare to him from the waist down. He starts spanking me, fast and hard, like he did my first day here at his place. It hurts but excites me. The pain just filters into pleasure. Into more excitement. The intensity matches the level of Oleg’s passion.

Of mine.

My ass burns and tingles, but he still continues, reaching around the front to rub my clit at the same time.

“Oleg, please,” I beg, needing more than clitoral stimulation. I want him deep inside me. Showing me his strength and power. Making me feel small and at his mercy.

Cared for.

Protected.

Don’t ask me how spanking me makes me feel protected, but it does. My knees are weak with submission. I throw my white flag of surrender at his feet.

Take me, Big Daddy.

Show me what you’ve got for me.

He delivers one more slap, then I hear his zipper and the rustle of fabric as he steps out of his jeans. I start to crawl up on the bed, but he catches my waist again and drags me back, arranging me in the same position, bent over the bed, my legs spread apart, my bare ass lifted to him.

He lightly slaps between my legs.

I whimper. It didn’t hurt, but it’s sensitive there—obviously.

He taps my outer thigh, then nudges my feet wider. I obey, spreading my legs even further for him.

He spanks my pussy again.

“Oleg,” I whimper.

He strokes his calloused palm down my outer thigh, caressing me. Showing me I’m safe—not that I was worried.

Another quick slap between my legs. I gasp. Then he delivers a series of short, quick slaps that nearly make me come. My pussy is wet and swollen beneath his fingers, making a slick, sticky sound each time he spanks there.

I waggle my ass. “More. Please, Oleg. I need you inside me.”

He tugs my skirt, with its elastic waistband, over the top of my head, along with my t-shirt. My bra comes off next. I’m now fully naked for him. He positions me again then growls and drags the head of his cock through my juices. I roll my hips up and push back, desperate for penetration.


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