Synopsis: "I like to pull on your hair, see you struggle to breathe, watch you reach your climax, and then stop you from reaching your high." He said all of that without stopping and that made me shake in my fucking boots.

"I-I, no?" I wasn't sure what to say when someone approaches you for a job and says that.

"I don't like when people say no to me. I will be respected. You, Miles Stevenson, will respect me." His voice was cold as ice. His stare froze my insides. He got up from his desk and walked over to me in strong strides in a matter of seconds.

He was dangerously attractive, his voice and tone were filled with a Russian accent, but it was barely there. Online, it read that his family was from Russia, he was born here but moved to America at the young age of 3.

"You're a cute, small pet. I think I'll be taking you." He talked with no fear in his voice, he was straightforward when he talked. His large hand came up to my face and his thumb stroked my cheek and then moved back to my hair and tugged on it a bit. I nudged my head back as a moan came out my throat and past my lips.

"There we go, you little masochist." He licked his lips and came down to my neck, kissing my sensitive skin. My hands flew up to his chest but he smacked them away and grabbed them.

Placing them above my head, his smirk only grew when I closed my eyes and groaned as his leg went up against my growing manhood.

---
That got Hot. Maybe you should read the rest and find out what happens between a 22-year-old and hot Russian Millionaire Don. Or the one with a cute genius boy who just got out of a long-term relationship comes for a job as an assistant with an older Russian Millionaire who doesn't take shit from anyone. {Gayyy, Slight S/m & Russian hotties)

Property Of a Millionaire

/"It was hot. I mean like c'mon, he was all over you Miles. He called you his freaking boyfriend. Period./" Lana was dramatizing the week's events of how Max overreacted during lunch when some girl was trying to give me her number, very flirtatiously.

/"It wasn't like that! Gosh, I hate you./" I slammed the glass of water down on the table where we were seated at.

/"I mean, look at those freaking hickeys on your neck? I bet there's more down there!/" Zack and Alana prodded questions and assumptions at me. They pointed down to my lower region before I threw my straw at Alana and pulled Zack's curl since he was closer to me.

Alana, Melanie, Zack, and I are at the bar as I

tried to avoid any questions about Max and what happened at the diner. Sadly, when you have friends, you can't do that. Zack had his arm around my shoulder with a beer in the other as he sang The K-I-S-S-I-N-G Song.

Chapter18