THAT SWEET BOY IS MINE

ng not surprising after a night in different bars accompanied by her people, enjoying, above all, the evening together with the crowd,

like a goddess, imposing, that dictator, she was having a migraine and that made her even more angry. She picked up the phone a few st

esterday's guy yet? -he smiles teasingly, stic

a fucking headache. -I've got a fucking headache.-she yawns, tired and satisfied. -I don't even know what time the

Sunday is for resting, but clearly you took it too seriously to forget that you have commitments today... -he chews

ling of sex and tobacco, hypnotized, dry-lipped and gaping, looking for some air, to breathe in that place? It was impossible, she felt he

ur, wait for me o

ha, w

le first, that's what's wrong." Enraged she throws the chairs towards the wall, smashing them, full of anger. You stroke her abundant, newly short hair, a little more than halfway down her neck.

nt and clean. Undoubtedly that woman during her youth was the most beautiful woman in that rich area and the secrets she could revea

posture of her shoulders, she went inside and started picking up all the dirty clothes from the floor, including men's underwear, b

y before? -she asks calmly, c

accompany him, your men were trying to make fun of him and I hit each of them with a rod in the back. -she mumbles, irri

ut

tively, closing her mouth between grumbles to the young blon

s at her, still standing i

't you dare to contradict her, unless it is very, very necessary to do so," are the words of her father, Vladimir Viktor Zaytsev Tarasov, former patriarch of the Romanov Clan. After inheriting everything to his daughter, he decided to retire to the forest, about 20 kilometers from the family castle, it was literally another world in that small hut, sometimes the silence despaired Duscha when she goes to visit him, causing laughter in her father who watches her and sighs, "When you learn to make pa

ckly pulls on the black turtleneck sweater, matching perfectly with her grayish suit, with light plaid stitching, tight to her muscular arms, enhancing her worked buttocks and enhancing her athl

good m

itchen. -I don't want any fight, I remind you that no matter how much your asses itch, the Japanese are our allies. -she observes them carefully; to which they nod. -Jasha, I'm serious, I don't want your crappy mood at the meeting, I swear, if you provoke any of the members, I'll put you in a coma myself. -she says with dull, opaque eyes, sipping from her coffee cup. -Jasha, also nicknamed "The Quiet One", nods and wrinkles his nose, annoyed by the call for attention. -Okay, not be

have all day! -he plops down on the seat, licking a lemon p

, I'll see you at the big hou

et the green haired man, smiling like a happy child with his lemon popsicle. She

hat a lo

t sucked, except

, we have to keep to the schedule. -sigh. -Inu Yasha clan, let's talk... Let's