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The Russian Unleashed

Red Phoenix




  Copyright © 2020 Red Phoenix

  Kindle Edition

  www.redphoenixauthor.com

  The Russian Unleashed

  1st Book of the Unleashed Series

  Cover by Shanoff Designs

  Formatted by BB Books

  Phoenix symbol by Nicole Delfs

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Description

  I am a simple man. I love fine vodka, whips, and beautiful women.

  And I have a secret.

  At twenty-one, I’ve just inherited my family’s entire fortune.

  Young, rich, and powerful, I am a force to be reckoned with –

  in and out of the bedroom.

  But the streets of Russia are dangerous.

  When innocence is threatened, I risk my life to save a girl.

  Now the Bratva have their sights set on me.

  I did not ask to be a hero, but I refuse to back down.

  I will fight to the end to protect the honor of the woman I love.

  I am Rytsar Durov.

  They have no idea what they have unleashed!

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Description

  Coming Next

  About the Author

  Newsletter

  Join My Friends of Red Phoenix Group

  Heading into Battle

  Fair Fight

  Destiny

  Revelry

  Acceptance

  Rescue

  My Calling

  The Dragon

  Russian Roulette

  Her Cry

  The Claiming

  Beta

  Dungeon

  Snake in the Grass

  A Promise

  Precipice

  Sparrow Hills

  Other Red Phoenix Books

  Connect with Red on Substance B

  Russian words used in this story:

  moy droog – my friend

  nyet – no

  da – yes

  gospodin – title of address, indicating respect

  Mamulya – a tender name for mother

  banya – traditional Russian bathhouse

  S lyogkim parom – Enjoy your bath

  Blyat – (versatile curse used like the word “fuck”)

  Za tvajo zdarovje – To your health

  vosem’ – eight

  Gde lyubov, tam i gorya net. – Where there is love, there is no grief

  pyat’ – five

  Pakhan – crime boss

  Za Vstrechu – To our meeting

  Za vas – To you

  BDSM Pet Names

  vorobyshek – little sparrow

  kroshka – crumb

  zaika – bunny

  ditya – little one

  Food

  Medovic – Russian honey cake

  Chebureki – deep-fried turnover filled with meat

  Blinis – thin pancakes

  Botvinya – cold vegetable soup

  Kholodets – jellied meat

  Buterbrod – elaborate open-faced sandwich

  Heading into Battle

  I’m just about to turn twenty-one and I’m seriously itching for a good fight.

  Pounding loudly on the door, I call out Thane’s name and refuse to stop until he opens it. I watch with amusement as my best friend rubs his eyes.

  “Good God, man! Do you realize what time it is?”

  “I do, comrade.” I grin.

  “The sun’s not even up yet. Have you no consideration for my poor aunt and uncle?”

  “I warned them yesterday I was coming.”

  Thane frowns. “And, yet, you failed to tell me.”

  “What would be the fun in that?” I laugh.

  “Fun, he says…” Thane shakes his head as he starts to close the door on me.

  I put my foot out to stop it as I grab his arm and yank him outside. “We’re leaving.”

  “No. We are not!”

  Thane tries to break the grip I have on his arm, but my hold is too tight. “There is no point in resistance, moy droog.”

  “Damn it, Durov,” he growls looking down at his sweatpants. “I’m not even dressed.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Thane jerks his arm away. “Well, it matters to me.”

  I grasp both his shoulders and look him dead in the eyes. “Do you remember the night I dragged you out of the dorm and introduced you to the dungeon?”

  “Yes…”

  “Today is like that, moy droog. You either come now or lose out on the experience of a lifetime.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Why must everything you do be so damn dramatic?”

  I punch him in the shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  He sighs with exasperation. “I’m not wearing a shirt.”

  I look at his bare chest and state sarcastically, “Lucky me.”

  Thane throws a jab at my gut, but I’m much too quick and he misses.

  “So, are you coming or not?”

  In the back hallway, his uncle calls out, “Go with him, Thane. You only live once.”

  Thane chuckles, conceding defeat. “Fine, Unc. I’ll let the crazy Russian abduct me, but if I wind up missing, it’s on your head.”

  His uncle’s laughter fills the hallway as Thane shuts the door behind him. “I hope I don’t live to regret this.”

  I throw back my head and laugh. He has no idea what he’s just agreed to.

  Walking over to the vehicle, I wait as my driver hastily opens the door for me. Then I gesture for Thane to get in.

  When he hesitates, I ask, “Do you trust me, comrade?”

  Glancing at me, he shakes his head but, to his credit, he climbs in.

  I slide into the vehicle after him and chuckle. “There’s no turning back now, moy droog.”

  As the vehicle pulls out, I sit back and fold my arms, staring at Thane in satisfaction.

  “Where exactly are we headed, Durov?”

  I smirk in answer. The sadist in me enjoys the fact that he has no idea what the next twenty-four hours will hold.

  “Pompous ass,” Thane grumbles.

  I like how feisty my comrade is early in the morning.

  Driving toward the airport, I see a disheveled man curled up on the sidewalk as I look out the window. A jogger running past him takes no notice, but I feel a strong connection to the man—I could be him but for fate.

  I glance at Thane sitting beside me. Although I have four brothers by blood in Russia, the only one who deserves to be by my side on this auspicious day is my brother by choice.

  I literally owe Thane my life. It is a debt I can never repay.

  Gratitude washes over me, and I look back at the homeless man disappearing in the distance. I lean over to the driver, giving him instructions to return after dropping us off. Pulling out my wallet, I drop a wad of cash on the front seat.

  The driver glances at it. “Who should I say it’s from?”

  “Simply say that fate has not forgotten him.”

  “Yes, gospodin.”

  Thane shakes his head, an amused look on his face.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Here
I am, wanting to strangle the life out of you, and you go and do something like that.”

  I shrug. “It’s nothing.”

  “Not true. It will mean everything to the man.”

  “Have you ever listened to the song “O’ Fortuna”, comrade?” I ask. “It is a personal favorite of mine.”

  Thane nods. “I’m familiar with the piece.

  “Then you understand the sobering truth. Nothing in this life is guaranteed.”

  Thane offers me a slight smile. “I don’t agree.”

  I cock my head. “Name one thing.”

  “My loyalty to you.”

  His answer hits me in the gut and leaves me mute for a moment. I nod to him, unable to dispute his claim. “Well played, brother.”

  For the first time since dragging him out of his uncle’s house, Thane actually smiles.

  Twenty minutes later, when the driver pulls up to the airstrip, I point with pride to the private jet.

  Thane stares at it in disbelief. “You rented a private jet?”

  He has no idea of the immense wealth of my Russian family. “Nyet. This was a personal gift from my grandfather.”

  Thane shakes his head as he climbs the stairs. Once inside, he lets out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, Durov. You really are an aristocrat.”

  I glance at the spacious cabin with carpeted floor and oversized white leather lounge chairs and grin. “Da.”

  I slap him hard on the back, “And you are truly a peasant.”

  “Asshole,” he snarls good-naturedly.

  Thane’s countenance changes the moment my stewardess, Rada, appears. She is a striking woman in her late thirties.

  Her presence suddenly reminds him of his state of dress—or lack thereof—and he nonchalantly covers his naked chest with one hand.

  “Can I get you a drink, Mr. Davis?”

  I find the blush on his cheeks amusing.

  “No, thank you,” he mutters, trying to keep a dignified stance.

  When she turns to me, I immediately answer, “I’ll have a shot of vodka, Rada.

  Thane snorts. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

  “Not at all, comrade.”

  I nod to Rada, adding, “Make it two.”

  “My pleasure, gospodin.” She bows her head slightly before hurrying to pour the drinks.

  Thane raises an eyebrow as he looks down at his watch. “Double fisting it before six in the morning?”

  “It’s four in the afternoon in my motherland.”

  “Wait…are we flying to Russia?”

  My grin widens. “We are.”

  Thane shakes his head, frowning. “I have to be at work on Monday. It’s not like I can travel on a whim like you. I have a new job, damn it! I need to make a good impression.”

  “Relax, peasant,” I assure him, leisurely wrapping my arm around his shoulder. “I will get you back in plenty of time for work.”

  “Why are you taking me to Russia?” he demands.

  The captain comes out to inform me that the jet has been cleared for take-off and we should take our seats.

  As I take my seat next to Thane, I tell him in a serious tone, “The will is being read, moy droog.”

  “Today?”

  “Tomorrow, actually. You and I have a long flight ahead.”

  He stares at me in silence as the jet races down the runway. I know he understands how significant this is for me.

  I listen to the drone of the engines as the aircraft lifts into the air. At that moment, the first rays of sunlight break over the horizon.

  The moment the jet levels off, Thane turns to me and asks in concern, “Are you certain you want me there?”

  I look him square in the eye. “Of course. You are my brother.”

  “Won’t your family object?”

  “It won’t be an issue, moy droog. I’ve instructed the lawyer to read the will to them separately.”

  Thane lets out a troubled sigh. “I can only imagine how well that is going to go over.”

  I grin, amused by his concern. Taking the glasses from Rada, I hand him one. “This is going to be an entertaining weekend.”

  Thane takes the shot from me and swirls the vodka in the glass while staring at it uncertainly. “I was serious when I said it’s too early for me to drink.”

  “It’s never too early for vodka.” Lifting my glass, I give a proper Russian toast. “Let our tables break from abundance and our beds break from love.”

  Chuckling, he is unable to resist such a fine toast and lifts his glass.

  The two of us down the smooth vodka and I close my eyes in gratitude. The warmth of the alcohol travels down my throat and into my soul.

  I hear Thane choke a little and smile to myself.

  On cue, the stewardess offers us a small plate of pickles. We both grab one and I take a bite, unable to contain my excitement. “I have a huge surprise, moy droog.”

  He laughs. “What? There’s more?”

  “Da!” I stand up and take his empty glass, handing it to Rada. “Come with me, comrade.”

  Thane hastily licks his fingers after finishing the pickle and stands up. I lead him to the enclosed room at the far end of the jet and instruct him to open the door.

  He looks at me warily before turning the handle and opening it. The shocked expression on his face makes me chuckle.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. This plane has a king-sized bed?”

  “My grandfather insisted on a good night’s sleep whenever he traveled. But, me? I have other uses for a room like this.” I point to the St. Andrew’s cross that I had recently installed.

  “A lot of good that does you when you fly alone,” he jokes.

  “Exactly.” I snap my fingers and a set of identical twins get up from where they were all but invisible kneeling beside the bed. As they walk up to me and bow, I look at their naked bodies with a sense of pride.

  They are true beauties, each in her own right.

  I reach down and cup their chins, tilting their faces up so I can gaze into their eyes as I tell Thane, “Manya and Panya have agreed to fulfill our darkest desires.”

  My cock reacts seeing both girls look up at me with unquestioning trust.

  I turned to ask Thane, “Which one would you prefer—or would you like both to start?”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly prepared…” Glancing at me accusingly, he mutters, “…because someone dragged me out of bed before the crack of dawn.”

  I chuckle.

  Taking control of the situation, he commands the girls. “I require a sponge bath before we begin.”

  I appreciate that Thane is as much a stickler for cleanliness as I am. It shows a level of respect for ones’ self and the submissive. Nodding to the twins, I leave him in their capable hands.

  I return to the main cabin and tell Rada, “I want a bottle of vodka and my cat o’ nines.”

  “Of course, gospodin.”

  She gets the bottle first and hands it to me before retrieving my instrument from my luggage. Having flown with me before, she is well aware of my kinky lifestyle and is accepting of it, though she is not a submissive herself.

  I insisted that she stay on as part of the staff after my grandfather died, knowing that she faithfully served him for years. In my opinion, faithfulness should always be rewarded because it is a hard thing to come by in the world.

  When she hands me the cat o’ nines, I make a suggestion. “Feel free to put your feet up and listen to some good music. We will be a while…”

  She blushes slightly. “Yes, gospodin.”

  I step back into the bedroom and find Thane lying on the bed while Manya finishes drying him with a towel. Seeing that Panya is currently unoccupied, I command, “Come here. Let my cat o’ nines flirt with you.”

  Panya bites her lip as she approaches, her eyes focused on the floor. “How would you like me, Rytsar?”

  “Bound to the cross, of course.”

  I lead her to t
he St. Andrew’s cross. Turning her to face it, I secure her right wrist in the leather cuff. I lightly brush my lips against her shoulder and whisper, “I can’t wait to taste your tears.”

  She lets out a little whimper as I grasp her other wrist to bind it. She is already trembling, and I haven’t even begun yet.

  I chuckle to myself.

  She has reason to fear my ’nines because she has felt its power before, yet it remains something she craves. My desire to challenge her with pain matches her need to receive it. Ours is a symbiotic relationship.

  I cuff her ankles next, spreading her legs wide as I secure them to the wood frame.

  I glance at my comrade and see that he is enjoying a session of fellatio with Manya. He’s a lucky man. She is known for her exceptional skill.

  I turn my attention back on Panya, who waits silently on the cross, anticipating the bite of my cat o’ nines.

  Before I begin, however, I take a vaginal clamp from a drawer.

  Kneeling beside her, I place the cold steel between her inner and outer lips and hear her gasp. Using the screws, I tighten the left side first, compressing her pussy lip, then move to the right and do the same. The instrument spreads her labia wide, exposing her clit and vagina, but the real purpose is to stimulate her outer lips. While I lash her with my ’nines, she will also feel the pressure of the clamp.

  I stand up and whisper in her ear. “This doesn’t come off until I am ready to fuck you.”

  She moans with excitement.

  I move into position and pick up my instrument, swinging it to warm up my muscles. I must be limber so I can remain precise in my delivery.

  I take my task seriously, and I am disciplined in my approach. My aim, whenever I scene with my ’nines, is to leave marks without breaking the skin. Some Dominants have criticized me for it, claiming that I am not a true sadist for my unwillingness to draw blood.

  I don’t care.

  I remember too clearly the bloody wounds my father inflicted on me as a boy, and the hours my mother spent tending to my injuries so I wouldn’t scar.

  Those memories stay with me.

  It is the reason I only leave temporary marks using clean, precise strokes meant to challenge but not to cut—otherwise, I am no different from my father.

  And I am nothing like that man.