You Don't Own Me: The Russian Don

Dahlia 'You Don't Own Me.' Zane 'In my world I own everything.'
Zane
I'm everything a mother prays her daughter will never come across.
Manwhore, Mafia boss and ruthless killer.
I've never met a woman who could hold my attention longer than it took to satisfy my c**k.
Until Dahlia Fury.
She alone is different. She walked into my world, the way a lamb strays into the path of a wolf, completely defenseless.
She made me hard the moment our eyes locked. I had to have her. But I never imagined taking her would be like popping a powerful drug. One I'd crave over and over.
The heat between us is blazing, like nothing I've experienced before, and every time I see her I want to devour her inch by inch.
I defined the terms of our arrangement (one month), but each time I brand her, like a damned addict I need another fix ...
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Dahlia
'You can do it. It's just a simple Swedish massage,' my friend pleaded. I should have listened to my inner voice. I shouldn't have gone, but I didn't, and ended up in a room alone with the epitome of an Alpha male, a sexy powerful Mafia boss with eyes cold enough to freeze my blood.
He took hold of my body in the most shockingly possessive way. He made me lose control. I ran from him as if all the devils in hell were hot on my heels, but he never left my mind.
Then, something unthinkable happens and the cold-hearted predator is the only one who can help. He agrees to help, but ... nothing is for free.
Now I roam around his London mansion waiting for him to summon me, touch me, arouse me, and satisfy me.
The way only my Russian Man Beast can...