Page 41 of Owned By the Russian

She stilled for a moment, glaring up at him, her cheeks flushed and lips parted. He could see the fire in her eyes, but he also saw something raw and unspoken.

His jaw tightened, his body screaming at him to take this further, but his mind pulled him back. This wasn’t how he wanted it. He wanted her to come to him willingly, to crave him as much as he craved her. Not just for some sick display of who had the most power over the other.

With a sharp exhale, Ilya released her wrists and leaned back, ignoring his body protesting every second of distance. “You put up a good fight, Princess,” he said with a smirk, his tone deceptively casual. “But next time, maybe think twice before attacking someone twice your size.”

She glared at him, her breath still heavy, her body still trembling from the unresolved tension between them. He could see the frustration in her eyes as he stood and offered her a hand to help her up.

Valentina slapped it away with all her might, getting to her feet on her own. “You’re insufferable,” she spat, but her voice wavered, betraying the whirlwind of emotions she was trying to suppress.

Ilya chuckled darkly, stepping back to give her space. “And you’re as predictable as always,” he countered, his voice dropping an octave. “But don’t worry. I’ll be here when you’re ready to admit what you really want.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, seething and undeniably affected. Once back in the room, Ilya yanked off his towel, his body thrumming with unrelenting tension.

His cock, rock-hard and aching, demanded release. Gripping himself tightly, he furiously stroked up and down, his jaw clenched, his mind consumed by memories of her moans, her lips swollen from their kiss in the kitchen. The sound of her voice, the way she gasped and melted against him?it pushed him over the edge faster than he liked to admit.

A feral groan escaped him as he came, spilling ropes of cum over his hand, his chest heaving with the force of it. But even with the release, his frustration remained. She was tormenting him, relentlessly fighting what they both knew was inevitable. And yet, despite making his intentions clear, she continued to resist, and it was driving him insane.

Needing to clear his head, Ilya cleaned up and threw on some clothes before storming out of the lodge. The crisp air of the woods bit at his skin as he wandered aimlessly, his thoughts racing. He needed space, a moment to regain control of himself before he did something he couldn’t take back.

But after thirty minutes of pacing through the woods, the creeping realization that something was off hit him like a punch to the gut. He froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing as dread churned in his stomach.

When he returned to the lodge, his suspicions were confirmed. His phone was missing. His car keys?gone.

“Fuck!” he roared, his fists slamming against the counter as he pieced it together.

She had taken his car. And she was gone.

Chapter 15 - Valentina

Valentina stepped on the gas, a wild grin playing on her lips as she gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as the car tore down the winding mountain road. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was intoxicating, and for a fleeting moment, she felt free?reckless, like she was in a high-stakes video game, racing to nowhere and everywhere at once.

“I did the right thing,” she muttered to herself, her voice drowned out by the roar of the engine and the abrupt rain beginning to splatter against the windshield. She repeated it like a mantra, trying to drown out the nagging guilt creeping in, even as the unfamiliarity of the roads started to hint that she was lost. “I had to get out of there. Ihadto.”

But as the rain picked up, turning into an unforgiving downpour, doubt crept in like an unwelcome passenger. The twisting roads blurred under the onslaught of rain, and the windshield wipers barely kept up.

She glanced at Ilya’s phone in the cupholder, its cracked screen lighting up with a late notification of a weather app. The memory of Ilya’s intense gaze flashed in her mind. He was probably out there looking for her. On foot. Without a phone.

Her grip tightened on the wheel as the thought twisted her stomach into knots.What if he gets hurt? What if he dies?

She shook her head violently, dismissing the idea. “He’s fine. He’s Ilya fucking Nikolai. He’s the last person in the world that needs my help,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. But even as she tried to convince herself, the worry lingered, eating away at her resolve.

The relief she thought she would feel after finally escaping him was nothing like the dread settling at the pit of her stomach.

The rain pounded harder, thunder cracking so loud it made her flinch. The car felt smaller, the storm closing in around her like a suffocating blanket. The tires skidded slightly on the slick road, and she cursed under her breath. Her escape was unraveling quickly, and with every passing second, the thought of Ilya out there alone gnawed at her.

“Fuck this,” she muttered angrily, slamming the brakes. The car screeched as she swerved sharply, the tires spinning before gripping the wet asphalt as she turned back toward the lodge. Her jaw clenched, and she felt a surge of frustration?not just at the situation but at herself. For caring. For worrying. For letting Ilya get under her skin.

If anyone told her she’d use her own two legs to return to him, she’d have given them a dollar for a good joke.

When she finally pulled up to the lodge, she threw the car into park and stormed inside, her heart pounding, half expecting to find it empty.

But there he was, standing in the middle of the room, dripping wet, his soaked shirt clinging to his tense muscular frame. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his sharp eyes locked onto hers the moment she entered.

“Valentina,” he said, his voice low and rough, dripping with something she couldn’t quite place?relief, anger, maybe both.

“Are youfuckinginsane?” she snapped, her voice rising as she marched up to him. “You went out in the storm? Who the fuck does that, Ilya? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“What wasIthinking?” His jaw ticked, and he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing into slits. “What wereyouthinking, stealing my fucking car and running off in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

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