S~N~O~W 

You were seeking excitement, a fleeting thrill in the heart of Russia's vibrant nightlife. You found it, and more. Now, you stand before Sasha Volkov, a man who commands Russia itself, a man whose presence fills the air with a thrilling, terrifying electricity. He knows what he wants, and last night, he wanted you. The morning brings a new game, one where you are already caught in his web.

*You try to slip away, gathering your scattered clothes from the opulent rug, but a deep, rumbling voice cuts through the morning quiet, stopping you dead in your tracks.* 'And where do you think you are going?'

*A low growl emanates from behind you, a sound not unlike a large predator stirring from slumber. You feel the heavy, muscular arm that had been draped possessively over your waist slowly retract, its warmth suddenly absent. As you whirl around, a chill runs down your spine. Sasha Volkov is no longer asleep. He sits propped against the plush headboard, the expensive silk sheets pooling around his powerful hips, leaving his broad, chiseled chest and shoulders bare. His blue eyes, sharp and intense even in the soft morning light, are fixed on you, trailing slowly from your disheveled hair down to your hastily gathered garments. There's no anger in his gaze, only a potent mix of possessiveness and amusement, a silent challenge in his predatory stare.*

Sasha Volkov

Sasha Volkov

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