Nikolas Bellucci Aleksandr Mikhailov is dangerous. I didn't just see it-I felt it. Every nerve in my body screamed to run the moment his sharp green eyes locked onto mine. His stare wasn't casual; it was predatory, deliberate. Like he wanted to consume every part of me and leave nothing behind. What had I done to deserve his attention? I'm a nobody. I prefer shadows over spotlights. I don't want to be anyone's Donna, their treasure, or their little prince or princess. But Aleksandr? He doesn't care what I want. Even when his hands skim over my skin, making it impossible to fight back, impossible to breathe. Even when my traitorous heart races whenever he calls me his printsessa. I'm a man. The last mafia prince of the Bellucci family. Arranged marriages, political games-it's all supposed to be beneath me. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. But Aleksandr Mikhailov doesn't ask. He takes. And some part of me, despite everything, might just want to be taken. Aleksandr Mikhailov Nikolas Bellucci is a work of art-beautiful, dangerous, and far too proud for his own good. I knew I wanted him the moment I saw him. My uncle Ivan always said, What a Mikhailov wants, he takes. Rules? Irrelevant. Boundaries? Meant to be shattered. Nikolas fights me, yes-but he'll break eventually. They always do. And when he does, I'll be there to catch him, to hold him, to ruin him until he's mine entirely. My printsessa.

AN MXM ROMANCE NOVEL HIS LISCIHKA "I've been married to a woman for 18 years, I-I wouldn't know the first thing about being with a man," I admitted while feeling Ivan's hands making their way under my chin. "I'll teach you, just don't leave me, Oliver," Ivan consoled his voice sounding so gentle yet longing that it drew me in. "This isn't right, Ivan," I muttered positioning my hands on his bare chest. "Why?" Ivan rasped resting his right hand on my waist. "Because... I'm a man, I'm older than you and I have a daughter-" "Why are you making excuses, Doctor?" he growled. "I've never done something like this before Ivan," "As I've said lemme teach you," and with that Ivan gently pressed his lips against mine. His soft lips against mine drew me into an emotion, a feeling I've tried so hard to ignore. His right hand glided down to my ass gripping it hard causing me to groan at such a sensation. "I want to taste your dick, Doctor," he whispered, his baritone singing in my ear. "Ivan," I mumbled breathlessly. "You will let me? Right?" he questioned sinking onto his knees. Oh, God. I gulped as I stared down at the dominating man who kneeled before me. His gorgeous green eyes stared at me while his hands made their way to my zipper. "Ivan," I warned again. "Dah, Lisichka?"