Page 32 of Owned By the Russian

Her jaw clenched, a retort forming on her tongue, but it caught in her throat. She hated that he was right?despised how infuriatingly justified he sounded. But instead of giving him the satisfaction of admitting it, she narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “Oh, right. The selfless savior routine. Forgive me if I don’t throw a parade in your honor.”

Ilya smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward as he waded even closer, their bodies separated by mere inches. “You’re welcome to show your gratitude in other ways,” he murmured.

Her temper flared. “Gratitude?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You and my father ripped me out of my life without so much as a warning, and you expect me to begrateful? I would’ve been fine without you playing the hero.”

“Would you?” he shot back, his low voice charged, his blue eyes locking onto hers with unsettling uncertainty. “Because from what I recall, it looked like you were one breath away from being dead.”

Her body trembled, a mix of fury and the undeniable heat of his proximity coursing through her. “You’re insufferable,” she hissed, her voice shaking despite her best effort to sound confident.

He didn’t stop advancing, and she instinctively leaned back, the movement making the water shift dangerously around her chest. She froze, every muscle tense as she fought not to squirm. If she moved too much, she knew the ripples would betray her and reveal more than she wanted. And at the same time, a part of her wanted it to happen?wanted him to see.

“And yet here you are, arguing with me instead of walking away,” he countered smoothly.

They stared each other down, the space between them humming with tension. Her chest heaved with quickened breaths, her pulse pounding as his dark gaze flicked to her lips and lingered. The air grew heavier, charged with something far hotter than anger.

Her breath hitched when he leaned ever so slightly closer, their faces now mere inches apart. His eyes burned with a mix of challenge and something deeper, something that sent a wave of heat crashing through her. For a moment, she thought?no,knew?he was going to kiss her.

As the tension between them reached a boiling point, Ilya’s hand slid to her jaw, his grip firm yet deliberate. His thumb brushed her wet bottom lip, the pad of it warm against her skin, and before she could stop herself, her lips parted for him.

Slowly, almost lazily, he slipped his thumb into her mouth, coaxing it open further. “There we go,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery. His dark blue eyes gleamed with wicked glee, sharp and piercing, as if savoring every second of her flustered reaction. “Look at you. Such a pathetic little thing. All thirsty for my tongue, for my attention.”

Valentina’s breath hitched, a mix of anger and embarrassment heating her cheeks. But she couldn’t pull away?not when his gaze held her captive and not when his voice seemed to strip her bare in more ways than one.

She never saw herself as the type of woman to be turned on by a degrading kink, but there was something about the way Ilya spoke that made her desire his domination.

“I told you I’d make you beg, didn’t I?” he taunted, his thumb pressing lightly against her tongue as his lips curled into a smirk. The sheer audacity of his action sent a heat rushing through her. “And here you are, proving me right. I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already falling apart.”

Her breath stuttered, caught between indignation and something she didn’t dare name. A sound left her?a whine, soft and breathless, barely audible but impossible to ignore. His smirk widened, dark and triumphant, as though her response was a victory he’d expected all along.

His thumb slid deeper, caressing her tongue in a deliberate motion, teasing, testing her limits. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, her nipples tight and aching to be touched. Every nerve in her body was alight with tension as the pad of his thumb edged closer to the back of her throat. She clenched her fists at her sides, trying desperately not to react, not to give him the satisfaction, even though the heat between her thighs said otherwise.

Her stomach churned with defiance and something far more dangerous. Summoning what was left of her composure, she bit down lightly on his thumb?not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a clear message.

His eyes darkened, darting across her face like he found something interesting there. “You’ve got bite. But we both know how this ends, don’t we?”

His face was so close now, the water lapping softly around them, and for a moment, she thought he would give up the teasing and actually kiss her. Instead, he let his hand fall from her jaw and moved back with an air of smug satisfaction, leaving her breathless and furious in his wake.

And then, as if deciding he’d had enough fun, he turned around and began swimming toward the shore.

Valentina exhaled sharply, trying to gather her composure. His touch had left her brain all scrambled, her thoughts spiraling all over the place. She opened her mouth to fire back something, anything that wouldn’t let him leave with the last word, but the words died in her throat the moment he emerged from the water.

Ilya rose like some mythic figure, droplets cascading down his broad shoulders and muscled back, the sunlight catching on his skin. He turned around, meeting her gaze as he grabbed his shirt from the ground. And then her eyes drifted over his nude form, going lower?far lower?past his well-defined abs and the faint trail of his V until her gaze caught on his arousal.

Her heart lurched in her throat as her cheeks burned hot. She turned away sharply, screwing her eyes shut like the image of his nudity would dissolve. But she knew it was impossible. The damage was done. The image was seared into her mind, and no amount of fury could erase it.

She was doomed to remember it now, to remember him, his perfect naked body and his painfully hard cock swaying between his legs.

The heated pulse between her legs increased her mortification. She found it ridiculous that she was turned on, especially knowing he had been messing with her throughout.

“I’ll see you back at the cabin,” he called out from the shore, but she refused to turn around, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Go to hell,” she shot back.

Valentina stayed in the water long after he’d left, scolding herself relentlessly. She replayed every second, every word, every humiliating reaction she’d had to his touch.

Even as she finally dragged herself out of the lake and pulled on her discarded clothes, she didn’t stop berating herself. Her teeth grounded together as she all but stomped back toward the cabin, wet hair plastered to her skin like a suffocating reminder of her shame.

How could she let him unravel her so easily? She hated how quickly her self-control shattered, how eagerly her body had surrendered to the press of his thumb, to the smug, taunting look in his eyes.

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