Get All 17 bestselling Mafia Romances for ONE low price! This Offer is Not Available Anywhere Else ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I devoured it! Steamy sex and good banter. Who doesn’t love a bad boy with a good heart? On to the next one!" --Amanda Two complete series featuring dominant dirty talking mafia heroes! Chicago Bratva 9-book Series Vegas Underground 8-book Series Bonus novella - Her Royal Master That's 17 books total + you get 2 Bratva bonus stories only available in paperback!! *** Enjoy this steamy excerpt from The Director... What the—? I suck in a sharp breath, filling my lungs to— “Don’t scream.” He barely speaks it. Just a low intonation from the shadowed figure in the armchair in my living room over by the window. My heart stutters and thuds painfully when I identify him, one elegant leg crossed over the other, lounging back like he owns the place. He unfolds his large form from the chair with grace. “Wh-what are you doing here?” I catch the back of the sofa with my fingertips to steady the swoop of the room. Damn blood volume. He doesn’t answer, just saunters toward me with a devilish smirk in place. Like he knows everything that’s about to happen and enjoys that I don’t. Damn Russian. “I came to get what’s mine.” He advances slowly. The floor stops tilting enough for me to take my hand away from the couch and jab it into the purse still slung over my shoulder to find my phone. I might be able to call 911— Ravil catches my wrist and takes the phone away, pocketing it. Or not. He divests me of the purse, which he drops on the floor by the satchel. If he looked angry, if his touch had hurt me, I’m sure I would have screamed. At least, that’s what I tell myself. In reality, I’m trapped in his azure gaze, memories of how he commanded my body so masterfully the last time we were together flooding back. I find indulgence in his eyes... not rage. Only a hint of danger. I put a hand protectively over my belly and take a step backward toward the door. He catches my wrist again and pulls me back. Places my palm back on the sofa. “I liked you where you were, kotyonok.” Kotyonok. His pet name for me. Kitten. He picks up my other hand and puts it on the back of the sofa, and I have no doubt why he enjoyed this position. I’m perfectly presented for a spanking. He presses down on the backs of both hands, his body crowding mine from behind. “Don’t. Move,” he murmurs against my ear. I instantly rebel, pulling one hand up and away. “Hmmm.” He’s patient. He catches my hand and pins it down again. “No safe words for you this, time, kitten. But I’ll be gentle.”
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