Read Her Russian Billionaire (A BWWM Russian Oligarch Interracial Romance) for Free Online Page A

five-o’clock shadow on his face.
    “Michelle… Dr. Carter, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He stood as he spoke, making his way out from behind his desk and towards me.
    “I…” I lost my words. I licked my lips, trying to realign my train of thought, but all I could think about was running my hands through his mess of dark hair. Without thinking about it, I licked my lips again.
    That must have been all of the answer that Makarov needed, as I was suddenly pushed back against the now-closed door, Makarov’s body pressing against me, his mouth on my own. With a moan, I opened to him, allowing him to dominate the kiss. After what could have been five seconds or a million years, he pulled away.
    “God… I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he panted, pushing even further against me, rocking his hardening erection next to my thigh. “Since the moment in the bar—if not before. And then yesterday, you sauntered up here in that short skirt and tight top. Your body is to die for.”
    I didn’t want him to know how badly he was affecting me—how I could feel the flames of desire burning in my stomach with his words. He wanted me. This hunky sexy man had been lusting after me. I could barely believe what I was hearing.
    Desire was quickly replacing all of the rage that had been burning within me mere moments before. I attempted to cling to this anger. I tried to remain unaffected, even as I found myself rocking up against him in return. The sensation of his substantial length pressing against me made my mouth water. Images of burying it between my lips danced through my mind.
    He shouldn’t get to have me, I reasoned halfheartedly—he didn’t get to use me and manipulate me, then turn around and fuck me. But even as I thought this, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I was much too far-gone. I could feel the ache between my thighs, my juices trickling down to saturate my panties.
    But, I reasoned in my lust-addled brain, I can do things my way, at least.
    Dropping to my knees, I made fast work of his belt and fly, allowing his pants and underwear to pool around his feet. Soon, his large uncircumcised cock was heavy and springing in my hands as I stroked him gently. Softly, I pressed kisses along the base of his fat length, smirking as I felt him growing restless above me. Eventually, I laved my tongue against the hot member, swirling it tantalizingly around his sensitive head, pulling his foreskin back. I caught a drop of pre-cum on my tongue, savoring the flavor.
    Suddenly, Makarov’s hands were on my head, pushing himself deeper into my mouth. At first I tried to fight his impatient thrusts, attempting to maintain control. But the truth was, I loved giving head. And it was something that Scott had never appreciated about me. Makarov seemed to appreciate it quite a bit, however, if his moans were anything to go by. So, after a brief internal battle, I gave in, relinquishing control, and enjoyed the sensation of his thick member pushing through my lips and sliding down my throat. Closing my eyes, I allowed him to fuck my face as I moaned around his cock.
    Eventually, though, his hips became erratic and his panting heavier, so I opened my eyes and pushed away. He offered a little whine of complaint, but I only grinned up at him—doing my best to mirror the cocky smirk he always seemed to have on his face. He wasn’t going to get off that easily.
    The expression on Makarov’s face—so wrecked and needy—sent another shiver of lust down my spine. He must have seen the hunger in my eyes, because he bent and easily lifted me as he turned to place me on top of his desk.
    Before I knew what was going on, I was stretched back against his desk with my skirt up around my waist and my panties hanging off of one ankle. Makarov was standing above me, breathing heavily as he studied my body with an animalistic hunger in his eyes.
    Suddenly, he was between my legs. I couldn’t help by cry out as his tongue pushed up