Page 59 of Owned By the Russian

Valentina panted, her nails biting into his shoulders, pleasure colliding with the sweet burn of him sinking in deep. He was thick, impossibly hard, and when he bottomed out, buried to the hilt, he let out a ragged curse, his forehead dropping against hers.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his breath hot and unsteady. “You always feel so fucking perfect, Baby.”

She clenched around him, body adjusting to his size, her thighs tightening around his waist, and he lost it.

Ilya pulled back almost completely before driving in again, hard and deep, setting a slow, devastating rhythm that had her panting, her body arching to meet each long thrust. Every slide of him inside her knocked the air out of his lungs, the pleasure consuming him from the inside out.

His mouth found hers, claiming it in a messy, hungry kiss, his tongue licking into her with the same ruthless pace of his hips. He sucked on her lower lip, nipped at it, swallowed every gasp, every moan she gave him.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, desperate for more. “Harder,” she whimpered, rolling her hips against his, nails scraping down his back.

Ilya growled against her lips, pushed her knees back to her chest, and gave her exactly what she wanted. His thrusts turned rougher, deeper, his grip on her hips tightened as he pulled her against him, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her whimper his name.

He watched her, drinking in every reaction, every flutter of her lashes, the way her mouth parted in pleasure, the way her breath stuttered each time he filled her completely, the little ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds she made in symphony with their hips slapping together.

His abs clenched, muscles taut with pleasure as he gripped her heels, pushing her legs up over his shoulders. The new angle let him sink deeper, fucking her rougher, dirtier?hitting places neither of them knew existed.

“You love this,” he rasped, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, the other around her throat, squeezing. “You love the way I fuck you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, gripping his arms, feeling the heat coil low in her stomach, tightening, winding. “Ilya, I?”

“I know, Baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw, her cheek, her temple. His movements never faltered, never slowed. “I know.”

And then he shifted, angling his hips just right, and she shattered.

Pleasure slammed into her, stealing her breath and sending aftershocks down her spine. She cried out his name, her body convulsing, tightening around him like a vice, dragging him under with her.

Ilya cursed, driving himself deep one last time, grunting as the walls of her cunt fluttered around him. And then his release slammed into him like a freight train. A guttural groan tore from his throat, his entire body locking up as pleasure surged through him, white-hot and consuming. It was different this time?deeper, more intense, like every restrained emotion, every unspoken feeling had unraveled in this moment.

He buried his face against her damp skin, murmuring sweet, reverent words in Russian as he spilled inside her, so hard and so much, more than he’d ever come before. It felt like a claim, a surrender, like something he could never take back.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, chests heaving, skin slick with sweat, the only sound in the room their ragged breaths.

His face remained buried in the crook of her neck as he pulled out, her soft whine sending a shiver down his spine. He felt the warm trickle of his release spilling down her thighs, soaking into the sheets beneath them. Pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to her damp skin, he was about to murmur something when her hand drifted downward.

His breath hitched as he watched her delicate fingers gather the remnants of him from between her thighs and plunge them back inside herself, her slick walls clenching around her own touch. He grunted, his grip tightening on her hips as she moaned softly, slow and indulgent, before bringing her fingers back to her mouth and sucking, her eyes locked onto his.

His stomach clenched. She was so fucking sexy that it made him insane. The sight of her, so wrecked yet still so needy, had his cock already twitching back to life, half-hard and aching. He groaned, dragging a possessive hand down her waist, already missing the feeling of her tight, hot pussy around him.

“I love you,” he murmured, lifting his head, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, his gaze softer now, raw with emotion. He said those three words as naturally as breathing. And they sounded so right, so perfect. “I love everything there is to you.”

Ilya watched her come undone beneath him, her body trembling, her breath hitching. Tears welled in her eyes, slipping free, tracing delicate paths down her flushed cheeks. The tip of her nose was pink, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful it made his chest ache.

He smiled softly, brushing his knuckles across her cheeks, catching her tears before they could fall any further. “Don’t cry, Baby,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Valentina let out a shaky breath, blinking up at him, and then she whispered, “Rhi said it first.”

She continued, clearing up his silent confusion. “She told me I was in love with you, and I told her she was bluffing. But I love you, Ilya. I really do.”

Something in him cracked wide open. He exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead to hers, his fingers tangling with hers, squeezing. “I’m going to do all I can to be the best husband to you, Valentina. The best father. I swear it.” His voice was raw, full of conviction. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m going to love and cherish our little family with everything I have. Okay?”

She let out a soft, choked sound, gripping his hands tighter, and he kissed her?slow and deep, pouring every unspoken promise into her lips, sealing them there.

Then she pulled back, her smile evident against his lips. “You’d better. Or my family will murder you.”

Chapter 23 - Valentina

Valentina felt like she was floating. No?soaring. All it took was one tilt, one shift overnight, and now she was in this surreal, dreamlike state where she wasn’t just marrying into the Nikolai family?she was marrying Ilya. And not out of duty or obligation like she had always dreaded growing up in the underworld, but because they loved each other. It was still sinking in.

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