Page 38 of Owned By the Russian

But Ilya was nothing if not persistent. He chuckled as he began preparing his own breakfast, the sound irritatingly at ease. Valentina chewed her food slowly, mentally pleading with the universe to keep him in the kitchen.

Her prayers went unanswered.

Moments later, he strolled into the living room, plate in hand, his eggs smelling way better than hers, and plopped down on the couch next to her?far too close for comfort. She shifted away, putting as much space between them as possible, her body tense with a mix of annoyance and treacherous attraction.

“So,” he began, clearly enjoying himself, “we’re not talking today? Or is this just a new way to keep me on my toes?”

She ignored him, focusing entirely on her plate, her fork scraping against the porcelain.

He leaned back, the movement drawing her attention despite herself. “It’s so fucking hot today,” he muttered, and her gaze flickered to him before she could stop himself.

He was still shirtless, still a little sweaty, his legs sprawled wide apart as he dug into his food. Her eyes betrayed her, tracing the lines of his torso before snapping back to her plate.

Gross, she told herself, swallowing thickly.He hasn’t even showered yet. But the ache building in her lower stomach told a different story, one she refused to entertain.

Before she could distract herself with anything else, she felt a hand wrap firmly around her ankle.

Valentina froze, her entire body sparking to life as Ilya easily tugged her toward him. She squealed in surprise, electricity zapping up her legs as she lost balance, her plate barely steady in her vice-like grip.

In one fluid motion, she was close?too close?and she could feel the heat radiating off him. His tone dipped low, the grip on her ankle firm, commanding, and maddeningly confident. It sent a shockwave through her, one she couldn’t fight no matter how hard she tried.

“I don’t appreciate being ignored,Printsessa,” he murmured, his hand sliding up her ankle slowly, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin there. “When I speak to you, I expect an answer.”

Her breath hitched as his hand traveled further, deliberate and teasing, his fingers grazing just above her ankle. Heat shot through her body as her clit pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own, and she clenched her jaw to keep herself from moaning out loud.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she nearly screeched, ripping her leg out of his hold like she’d been burned. Her heart thundered as she scrambled back, putting as much space between them as she could while clutching her plate like it was a shield.

Ilya leaned back, unbothered, a smirk curling at his lips as if he hadn’t just unraveled her with a single touch. “Just trying to get your attention.” His gaze lingered on her flushed face, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he noted the way her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snapped, but her voice betrayed her, shaking just enough to give her away.

“As you wish,” he replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. But the wide smirk on his face told her he wasn’t finished?he had barely even begun.

Seeing him constantly was beginning to mess dangerously with her head. Sure, she was starting to notice things about him?how he was surprisingly dependable, how he always got things done without complaint?but that didn’t change the fact that he washim. The man who riled her up like no one else, who always knew how to push her buttons?just like he did now.

Being around him 24/7 was maddening, and if this went on much longer, she was afraid of what she might do. Like give in to the pull she refused to acknowledge?the one that had her imagining things she shouldn’t, things she’d absolutely regret.

Even after he left her alone in the living room, she couldn’t stop thinking about his hand around her ankle, his thumb brushing her skin?the same one that she almost sucked at the lake?his mouth, pink and full, always ready to set fire to her nerves.

This desire was becoming unbearable. It was growing on her faster than she liked?obsessive, consuming, relentless. There was no holding it back now. She needed to leave as soon as possible before she made a mistake she couldn’t take back.

A familiar idea took root in her mind, desperate and reckless: steal his car keys and get out of there before it was too late. Granted, she had tried it before, and she had been unlucky, but she would be sneakier now. And it was physically impossible to leave the lodge without a car, so it was her only way out.

Affliction couldn’t rise the second time.

So, the moment the sound of the shower echoed through the cabin, she decided to make her move. Heart thundering, she crept into the kitchen, searching for the keys. She rifled through the kitchen, her hands moving quickly as she yanked open cabinets and drawers, her nerves fraying with each passing second.

“Where the hell are they?” she whispered to herself as she checked the counter next, running her hands along the smooth surface, and then crouched to peer under the kitchen island, her pulse pounding in her ears.

The sound of water running in the bathroom down the hall gave her a limited window. She knew this was risky, but she couldn’t let herself think too much about it. She needed to leave?now.

She was so focused on her search that she didn’t hear him approach until his voice cut through the tense silence like a knife.

“Looking for something, Princess?”

Her heart nearly stopped as she shot upright, whirling around to find him standing in the doorway.

Water still clung to his skin, glistening in the dim kitchen light, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead. A towel hung low on his hips, revealing the defined lines of his torso and the slight trail of dark hair leading downward.

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