Page 45 of Owned By the Russian

Ilya wasn’t about to give her anything less. He pulled out slowly, almost completely, before thrusting in again, groaning when her body clenched around him like a vice, her wet walls slicking him as he drove in and out.

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth, fisting her ass as he ground his hips hard against hers. He alternated between deep, punishing thrusts and slow, teasing rolls, savoring the way she trembled beneath him. “You feel so fucking good, Princess.”

This was heaven. A strangled groan ripped from his chest as he thrust inches deep and held her there, pulsing as her walls gripped him tight. He savored the heat, the tightness, the sheer fucking perfection of her pussy. Then he pulled back, only to thrust in again, slower this time, reveling in the way she moaned his name.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this?” he asked, his jaw tight as he pushed and pulled. His chest rippled, sweat beading on his clenching abs. He thrust hard, his hips slamming into hers, her ass slapping against his pelvis. “Do you know how long I’ve ached to bury myself in this hot, little pussy?”

“Mm?” Another thrust. “I knew you’d have a fucking tight cunt, but this…” A hard pound. “This is everything, Valentina. This is heaven.”

“Ilya,” she was crying now, aching as she reached for her clit and circled quickly.

“That’s it,” he chuckled darkly, his breathless voice rough with pleasure. “Say my name again. Say it like you mean it.”

She chanted it like a prayer, meeting him stroke for stroke. Their skin connected with loud, wet slaps, and the sounds of their combined moans and groans echoed in the room.

Ilya pounded into her quickly as he felt heat coil tight inside him, lightning racing through his veins. And with the way she squeezed tighter, felt warmer and wetter, he knew she was right behind him.

Valentina came first, her release hitting like a tidal wave as she trembled and screamed, collapsing on the bed as her body shook. The raw pleasure of it shattered his control. A forceful growl ripped out of Ilya’s throat as a carnal possession overtook him.

He tugged her sweaty body to himself, keeping her upright against his chest as he delivered fast, short thrusts into her leaking cunt.

In seconds, he orgasmed with a shout, slamming his hips against hers as hot tendrils of his cum spilled inside her, coating and drenching her walls. His body locked, muscles flexing, his vision white-hot as he rode out every last pulse like the life was being sucked out of him.

The only sound left was their ragged breathing, their bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in the aftermath of the sex.

As they collapsed onto the bed, dizzy with pleasure, Ilya glanced at Valentina. She was already asleep, her lips curved in a faint smile, her hair sticking out in every direction as her head lay on his chest. For a moment, he wondered if she could hear the magnitude of his heartbeat.

It was only supposed to be just sex?angry sex?to get her out of his system. But somehow, it turned out to be the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever had. It was the first time he truly lost himself during sex.

Now that they’d fucked, he was supposed to be over her already. Instead, he felt consumed. Addicted. He still wanted to touch her. He still wanted to make her surrender all over again.

What the hell was happening between them? How did a one-time sex become something he never wanted to stop having? Why was his desire for her becoming even more intense with every passing second? Why was she starting to matter so damn much?

By morning, Ilya expected the awkwardness. The storm had cleared, and bright rays of sunlight streamed through the windows. But he was surprised by how natural everything felt?how natural it felt to feel her waking up in his arms, stretching her arms over her head with a groan before burying her face in his chest for another round of sleep.

The truth was becoming glaringly obvious to him. He didn’t want to let her go. Never. But no matter how deep his obsession for her ran, he knew better than anyone that he didn’t own her.

Chapter 17 - Valentina

Valentina stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling the warmth of the water dripping from her damp hair as she patted it dry. Her light brown eyes, usually sharp and guarded, now sparkled. Her cheeks flushed with a softness that felt foreign. Her lips, pink and slightly swollen, were slightly parted as she recalled the night before.

Her reflection and the light soreness between her thighs revealed what she truly looked like: a thoroughly fucked woman.

Her appearance was a reminder of just how fiercely Ilya had claimed her, pushing her to the edge of pleasure and pain.

She let out a soft sigh, the words to describe the sex with him escaping her grasp. He had known exactly what to do?kissing her, touching her, taking her in a way that left her breathless. He had fucked her just how she needed it, to the brink of pain. He had an impressive cock, and he knew damn well how to use it. And then there was the case of his dirty fucking mouth that always drove her to the edge anytime those nasty filthy words rolled off his tongue.

As much as she hated to admit it, his skill had left her wanting more. Even now, alone in the bathroom, she could feel her body react to the thought of him.

Fuck.

She forced herself to focus, trying to shake off the lingering sensations as she dressed and made her way to the kitchen. Ilya was there, preparing breakfast, and for a moment, she stood in the doorway, watching him with a weird type of fascination.

She had tried to decide on another tactic instead of snatching his keys and driving away. She had tried and failed and wasn’t about to go down the same lane again. Now, she considered being reasonable with him. Having a decent conversation about her leaving. She could only hope he was more reasonable after sex.

As she watched him flip pancakes like a chef, she remembered how good it felt to wake up in his arms and how there wasn’t even a flicker of awkwardness between them. Still, she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of shyness as she watched him cook, which was new for her since she was never shy about sex or the aftermaths of it. But Ilya was starting to make her feel different things at once.

Ilya caught her figure at the entrance, his gaze flickering over her with a knowing look.

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