Page 51 of Owned By the Russian

The Nikolai estate was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Crystal chandeliers bathed the grand ballroom in golden light, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and floral arrangements.

Valentina took a slow sip of her drink, but the usual crispness of the champagne did nothing to settle her. Her stomach twisted?not unpleasantly, but enough to make her set the glass down. She blamed it on the nerves that had been gnawing at her ever since Rhi mentioned Ilya would be here tonight.

And then, as if summoned by thought, she saw him.

The crowd around her faded into the background as her eyes locked onto him. He stood near the bar, tall and commanding in a perfectly tailored black tux. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his dark hair had grown just enough for a few strands to curl over his forehead. He looked devastatingly good, and by the way his gaze dragged over her body, she knew he thought the same of her.

Heat licked at her spine, her skin prickling under the burn of his attention. The air between them felt charged, almost intoxicating. For a second, her head felt light as they stared at each other across the room, like they were the only ones there.

Fuck, she hadn’t realized just how much she had missed seeing his stupidly handsome face.

Valentina took a steadying breath and forced herself to move through the party, pretending not to notice the way Ilya’s eyes followed her like a magnet. But she felt it?like a touch, like a pull she couldn’t escape.

She was near the balcony when he finally approached, his looming presence as impossible to ignore as ever.

“Didn’t think you’d show up, Princess,” he drawled, sliding his hands into his pockets. She had missed him calling her that, too. “Figured you were still sulking about being forced to leave our little love nest in the mountains.”

She scoffed, heat touching her cheeks. “Please. I was counting the minutes until I could get away from you.”

“Mm.” He took a step closer, his smirk deepening. “That’s why you’ve been eye-fucking me all night?”

God. Ilya and his dirty mouth.

Valentina rolled her eyes, even as heat curled low in her stomach. “I was staring at the unfortunate fact that they let you in here looking like that. Who told you that tux was a good idea?”

Ilya exhaled a low laugh, tipping his head slightly. “You, apparently. You haven’t stopped checking me out since I walked in.”

She bristled, determined not to give him the satisfaction, even though she was itching to touch him. “I was admiring how your beard is finally trimmed. Makes it easier to see your insufferable face.”

“And here I thought you liked my face,” he murmured, his voice a shade lower now. “You seemed to enjoy it just fine last time I had it between your thighs.”

Valentina scowled at him, cheeks heating as she narrowed her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yet you keep coming back for more.”

His smirk was lethal, his nearness intoxicating, and she hated how easily he unraveled her. How effortlessly he got under her skin. But she’d missed it too much to stay annoyed for long.

She meant to deliver a scathing retort, but then his fingers brushed against his hip?just barely, just enough to make her breath hitch.

“Nice dress,” he noted, pinching the flimsy material between his fingers. “Too bad I want to rip it off you.”

And suddenly, the sharp words tangled in her throat, lost in the growing heat between them. A brush of fingers, a stolen glance, a smirk that lingered too long. They didn’t need to say it.

And then, minutes later, Valentina barely had a second to think before her back hit the door of one of the venue’s empty rooms, Ilya’s body pressing against hers, heat radiating between them. His hands were already on her, sliding up her thighs, gripping her waist, his mouth crashing into hers with an urgency that made her head spin.

She gasped against his lips, but he swallowed the sound, kissing her deeper, hungrier, fucking her tongue with his. His fingers tangled tightly in her hair, tilting her head back as he licked into her mouth, devouring her like he’d been starving for three weeks. And maybe he had. Maybe they both had.

“You couldn’t stay away,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he trailed his lips down her jaw, her throat, his hands squeezing the back of her thighs, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Knew you’d come back for this. You’re that greedy.”

She didn’t bother denying it. Not when she was already yanking at his tux jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, desperate to feel the hard planes of his muscles. She was soaking wet already, desperate to feel him buried snugly in her heat. She rolled her hips against his, and he growled when her nails scraped against his skin. Suddenly, he dropped her and spun her around before she could blink, pressing her palms against the door.

“Tell me you missed me,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he hastily unbuckled his belt.

Valentina’s fingers curled against the wood as his hands dragged up her dress, pushing the fabric over her hips. She was breathless, thirsty for his kisses, needy for his touch. “Shut up and fuck me, Ilya.”

He let out a low, dark chuckle, his fingers slipping between her thighs as he shifted her damp panties to the side. She shivered against him. “So impatient.” He tsked, sliding his fingers against her slick folds before rubbing circles over her pulsing entrance. “You’re so wet for me, Valentina.”

She hissed when he teased her, his touch light, taunting. She could feel how hard he was behind her, pressing into her, yet he still wanted to take his time, still wanted to hear her beg.

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