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Russian God

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Harper had come to the conclusion that she would never have a boyfriend. Her job pretty much put a stop to any serious relationship and she was fine with that. She loved her job more than any man. Then stubborn, dominate Dimitri came into her life. Dimitri was different, in more ways than one.

Erotica / Drama
4.8 94 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter One

I walked through the dark corridor, music was already playing and it was giving me a headache. As I opened the door to the changing room six other women, very much less dressed then me looked up, a few waved.
“Harper!! Stag do in tonight,” Latisha shouted to me as she put her stocking on. Latisha was my best friend in this place and management often put us on the rota together. We made men stay longer, which equals more drinking, which equalled more money. She combed through her thick black afro hair and let it stay out growing everywhere but down.
“Banging, tips galore,” I said as I undid my jacket. I had my work clothes on under my normal clothes and slowly got undressed. 20 minutes to opening, so I had time for a crafty cigarette before the show started.
“Fag?” She asked, reading my mind once I was fully undressed. I nodded and put my jacket back on over my lingerie. I was glad I wore my favourite tonight. Aqua matching set, which also matched my eyes and looked amazing against my shoulder length brown hair, if I didn’t say so myself. Me and Latisha made it out to the staff smoking area, she hadn’t even lit her cigarette before she started.
“So Graham.”
“Don’t tell me, being a douche bag?” I asked before taking a drag and putting the lighter in my pocket.
“Oh my god such a douche bag!” She lit hers now. “Telling me he can’t be with someone in my profession”
“Wait” I stopped, putting a hand up. “He has only known you doing this, that’s bullshit.”
“And that’s what I said to him! I don’t cuss that he works in IT.” We both cracked up then, the cold hitting me as my jacket came open.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, this is why I didn’t want a relationship. The last guy I was speaking to didn’t know what I did for a living and I preferred that. But the minute it got too serious I broke it off. Can’t disappoint anyone then.
“He wants me to quit.” She looked up at me, serious now.
“And you told him to fuck off?” I asked my head going forward. I knew that wasn’t what she had done.
“I told him yes.”
“What! Tish are you for real? You love your job?” We both did. It paid well and don’t get me confused. I wasn’t some druggie who needed their next fix. I used to work in recruitment but at 21 I met Latisha in a bar one Friday night. We hit it off and she introduced me to the club’s owner. 5 years later the rest is history.
“Harper, I know but what am I going to do? Be working the pole 7 months pregnant?”
“You’re pregnant!!” My cigarette was long finished and I threw it in the ashtray.
“No I’m not but way to tell the whole fucking street if I was”. We laughed then.
“I see a future with this guy Harp, I don’t want this” she gestured generally around “to stop that.” I nodded, I got it. I hadn’t ever felt like that about a man but I suppose if I ever did I would do the same.
“I told him to give me three months. Make enough money in tips in case I can’t find anything else.”
“Smart, and we shouldn’t have any trouble tonight.” She threw her cigarette away and looped her arm in mine.
“Double pole tonight as a goodbye?” She asked as we walked back into the club.
“Oh fuck yeah, I’ve got you for three months though remember,” I winked at her. Shit. What was I going to do without her here? I got along with the other girls, don’t get me wrong but the staff turnaround here was ridiculous and I was classed as a veteran. I sprayed some perfume, brushed my teeth and pushed my tits up. Show time. We walked out to the huge night club, there were already a few of our regulars at the bar. Come here for the food apparently. It was a busy night and around 11pm the stag do arrived. About 20 men walked in and took their VIP seats next to the stage. They had just missed my 10:30 show but me and Latisha were going to a double act before we closed. Having plenty of time for that, the club shut at 4am. We were in Mayfair London and the majority of our customers were older rich gentlemen. They never did anything for me, it was a job and that was it. I was given the job to deliver the champagne to the stag do and took three bottles over. The stag himself was already wasted, I was shocked he even got in.
“Woahhhhh here we go lads,″ one of them shouted as he stood up. He looked way too excited to be here. First time in a strip club mate?
“Enjoy gents, Felicity is up next,” I purred as I pointed at the pole.
“When are you on?” I didn’t see who the voice was coming from.
“Sadly you’ve missed me. But the private dance booths are open and ready to go if I take your fancy.” I said my rehearsed words. I needed to mix it up a little even I was getting bored.
“Oh yes please,” the excited one shouted.
“No me.” I looked over and one of the party had stood up. Fuck. He was the definition of sex on legs. His dark hair was cut short at the sides but a bit more on top, his jawline was sharp and strong. The eyes on this man nearly made me drop my knickers right there and then. They were black, mysterious and his neck tattoos were definitely doing it for me. I found myself blushing, I never found customers attractive but I’d have to blind to not notice him.
“Come along then,” I said to him before walking to the private dance booths. You were able to give a customer a dance on the floor but I never told them that. More money this way. I opened a booth that I could see was free and let him walk in. As he came past me I noticed his massive structure. He was over 6 foot at least. He smelt divine too. This would be easy work. The booths had just an arm chair and curtains covering the walls. It was classy and I was proud I worked in such a place. He sat down and spoke immediately.
“What’s your name?” His voice had a Russian accent. Fuck me, quite literally.
“Princess,” I murmured as the music cut in and I backed up on his crotch.
“No your real name.” I danced down and came back up, making sure my arse was directly in his face.
“That is my real name.” I replied as I turned to him, body still moving to the music and each one of my bra straps down.
He chuckled, “no it isn’t.” His voice was stern and demanding. God this guy was my type. I never tell customers my real name but for reasons unknown to myself my intelligence left the room.
“Harper”. I unclipped my bra at the front and one cup by one removed it. My arm covering my breasts.
“What’s yours?” I asked, throwing my bra to the side.
“Dimitri.” He sat back now enjoying the view. My arm covering my chest came loose as I continued to dance, moving even closer to him. My head went past his neck as I whispered.
“Fuck that’s a sexy name,” and I meant it. Shit Harper get it together.
“Let me get your number Harper, I want to take you for dinner.” My head came back around as I sat on his lap.
“Oh no can do. I don’t date customers.” I ran my arms down his chest, he was ripped as well? There had to be something wrong with this guy.
“Then ignore this lap dance, I don’t want to be your customer.” His statement made me smile.
“No sorry.” It killed me to say that but my rule was my rule. I didn’t date customers. The same shit would always happen, go out have a great time and then bam they want you to give it all up.
“Do your tips stay with you?” His eyes were burning my skin as I wiggled in his lap.
“They do,” I said as I felt his massive hard on through his trousers.
“Can I ask?”
“Ask away Harper.” The way he said my name wanted me to rip his massive dick out and ride it then and there.
“You don’t seem the type to hang out with them.” My thumb went back to the main nightclub.
“I’m not. My sister is marrying that fucking loser so here I am.”
“Where are you from?”
“Moscow.” His hands slowly came up my thighs and I stared at him.
“No touching.”
“I don’t count though right?” He smiled then and in between my legs started throbbing. I put my hands on his and moved them up my thighs. Fuck it. I had already told him my real name might as well have some fun with it.
“You sure you don’t want me to take you to dinner?” His lips grazed my neck and I let out a moan. A real one.
“I can’t.”
“I don’t give up.” I moved my head back and looked at him. Them dark eyes looked at me up and down and I needed to go and change my knickers urgently.
“You have to, I’m afraid,” I said the words sweetly, my stomach in my throat. I actually hated myself for saying this but I don’t mix business with pleasure. Chuckling he gripped my thigh tighter.

“You’re funny Harper.” His eyes went straight to my chest making me remember I had no bra on. Tits in his face. Moving his hand from my thigh it slowly came in between my breast, as it came to my right nipple my intelligence came back.
“Your time is up”. I stood up and put my bra on. He came up next to me and I couldn’t help notice the massive bulge in his trousers. God did I want to see that in the flesh.
“Harper I mean it. I get what I want” he handed me some notes as he walked out the room. I took a breath in and sat down. I counted all the fifty pound notes and almost screamed. He had tipped me a thousand pound.

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Luciana: Excelente. Una novela interesante

island_girl: Recommend for the hopelessly romantic goers out there ❤️ Keep up the great writing.

sourpatch93: Can’t wait for more of this book

Audrey: Simple et agréable à lire. Parfois quelque peu répétitif mais cela ne gâche en rien l'histoire.

Jaqueline Leal: Me gustó, la temática fue fuerte pero abordada de una manera responsable y respetuosa, me encanta la manera que tienes de escribir muchas felicidades, sigue haciendo lo siempre

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