Page 40 of Owned By the Russian

He could already imagine it: her moans turning into desperate pleas, her body writhing beneath his as he pushed her to the edge over and over again. And when he was done, he’d pull out, his cock aching as he spilled himself all over her soft thighs and trembling stomach, painting her in his cum like she belonged to him.

The thought of it wasn’t enough. No, he wanted more. He’d lick every drop from her skin, tasting her sweat, savoring her, before spitting it into her pretty little mouth and making her swallow it down, every filthy inch of his claim.

His grip tightened, his breathing ragged as he fought to keep himself from snapping. The air between them was electric, heavy with tension that begged to be broken. It took everything in him to keep his hands from tearing away her clothes and giving in to the animalistic urge clawing at his control.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

Valentina raised an eyebrow, her smirk laced with mockery even though the want in her eyes was evident. “What’s the matter, Ilya? Cat got your tongue?”

Her voice was taunting, but it only poured gasoline on the inferno raging within him.

“I can think of better uses for my tongue,Printsessa,” he growled, his voice low and thick with need.

Her eyes widened slightly, but before she could recover, Ilya was already closing the distance between them in one swift, decisive motion.

His mouth crashed against hers, hot and demanding, with a force that stole the air from her lungs. The kiss was nothing soft or hesitant. It was raw, electric, and utterly consuming, like he was staking his claim and refusing to let go.

Valentina’s hands flew to his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t stop him. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that scrambled her thoughts, his stubble grazing her skin in a way that sent shivers racing down her spine.

He tilted her head back, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a heated, sinfully slow stroke that made her knees buckle. She gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound like it was fuel for the fire raging between them.

His teeth scraped against her willing tongue before he sucked it into his mouth. His hand wrapped firmly around her neck, his grip on her throat tightening just enough to send her pulse racing. He dominated her completely, tilting her head further back to grant him full access as he sucked greedily, hungrily on her tongue.

His other hand left her waist, sliding down to her ass, grabbing and squeezing so hard she moaned into his mouth. His fingers dug into her flesh, claiming a fistful like it was his right, like she belonged to him. The hard press of his erection against her stomach made her grind her hips against him, seeking the friction that had him spiraling.

A low, guttural growl erupted from his throat, vibrating against her lips as his grip on her tightened. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling as she kissed him back with equal ferocity, both of them fighting for dominance in a battle that felt as primal as it was inevitable.

He won, of course. He always did. His hold on her ass strengthened, guiding her body as he delivered one hard, deliberate roll of his hips against hers. The motion set heat coursing through him, their bodies pressed so tightly together he could feel every inch of her. It was intoxicating, maddening, and it only left him craving more.

Just before he could surrender completely to his desires, he forced himself to step back, breaking their heated kiss with a sharp breath and a wet smack that echoed in the kitchen. His body screamed at the sudden loss of contact, his hands flexing at his sides as if itching to pull her back in.

But he couldn’t give in. Not right now. She was playing some kind of twisted game, and he needed to figure out what it was before she turned the tables on him.

Ilya clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay rooted in place even as the intoxicating lust threatened to consume him. His eyes trailed over her disheveled form?her chest rising and falling with every heavy breath, the tight peaks of her nipples visible through the thin fabric of her shirt, her cheeks flushed that perfect shade of red, and her lips swollen and wet from their kiss.

“That’s all you’ve got?” he sneered, his voice cold and cutting despite the storm raging inside him, despite how heavy his heart slammed against his ribcage. “I expected more fight from you, Valentina. But maybe that’s just who you are: all bark and no bite.”

Valentina’s eyes widened, her lips parted in disbelief, cheeks still flushed from their kiss. Then he saw the fury slam into her, fast and blinding. She didn’t even give herself a moment to think?she lunged at him, her fists aiming for his chest.

“You asshole!” she growled, slamming her palms into him. “You sick son of a bitch. You’re such a condescending prick, you know that? You think you’re so fucking untouchable, don’t you? You think you’re some god to be worshipped? You think you can just fucking kiss me and vomit bullshit like that?” Her voice cracked with frustration as she landed another shove against his chest.

Ilya stumbled back slightly, more out of surprise than anything else, and his lips curled into an amused smirk. “Is this how you handle rejection? By throwing a tantrum?”

Her rage only flared hotter, and she went for him again, this time clawing at his shoulders. “You make me sick, Ilya. You think everything’s a stupid little game, don’t you?”

Ilya caught her wrists mid-swing, his grip firm but not painful as he yanked her closer. Their breaths mingled, her chest heaving against his, and for a moment, he thought she might spit fire at him.

“Careful, Valentina,” he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “Keep this up, and I might start thinking you like it when I push your buttons.”

Her teeth clenched, but her glare wavered as his words sunk in. He could see the hate swimming in her eyes, and then, with venom on her tongue, she spat, “Fuck you.”

Before he knew it, she was tackling him to the floor, their struggle becoming more heated than either of them expected. Valentina twisted beneath him, her nails digging into his forearms as she tried to buck him off. Ilya, amused and impressed by her strength, allowed her to push him momentarily off balance before he shifted his weight, easily pinning her back down with his body.

“Not bad, Princess,” he teased as she squirmed beneath him, her thigh brushing dangerously against his groin. “But you’re not going to win this one.”

“Get off me, you freak!” she hissed, her nails scraping his skin again.

“You really want me to let go?” he challenged, his grip tightening on her wrists. Their bodies rocked together as she struggled, and he felt his control slipping as the heat from their kiss returned, burning brighter with every brush of their bodies together. Her intoxicating scent, the warmth of her skin, the way her chest rose and fell just inches from his?all of it was driving him to the edge.

---