Page 63 of Owned By the Russian

“Mm?”

“You’re playing dirty.”

She exhaled a slow, knowing sigh, and then, with deliberate mischief, said, “What, this? This is nothing. I could have you begging with just my voice if I wanted to.”

God, you have no fucking idea.

A low, husky laugh escaped him, his tongue running along his teeth. “You really think so?”

“Iknowso.”

He leaned his head back against the car, inhaling through his nose, already picturing her?the smug glint in her eyes, the curve of her lips as she played with him. His Valentina. His wicked, sinful woman. His naughty, little minx.

“Care to prove it?” he challenged, voice rougher now.

“Gladly,” she said. “But first?”

A rustling sound came through the speaker, like fabric shifting. Then a quiet hum, the kind that went straight to his cock. “I should tell you where I am.”

His brows furrowed. “Where?”

“In a boutique.Alone. In the dressing room.”

Ilya swallowed hard, glancing around the empty parking lot. The thought of her?alone, maybe with her legs spread just a little, teasing herself while whispering his name?shot fire through his veins.

“What are you doing in there,Printsessa?” he asked, his voice now just a shade off desperate.

“Hmm.” She dragged out the sound, breathy and full of intent. “Trying on heels.Veryhigh ones. The kind that make my legs look so, so long. The kind that would dig into your back when I wrap them around you.”

He cursed under his breath, reaching down to subtly adjust himself.

“You should see me,” she went on, her voice all silk and honey. “I’m standing in front of a mirror. Lifting my dress, just a little. My panties match my bra. Lace. Red.” A slow exhale. “You like red on me, don’t you, Ilya?”

He closed his eyes, head tipping back. “You know I do.”

“Thought so.” She made another soft sound, one that sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. “I wish you were here.Right here. Pushing my dress up the rest of the way. Feeling how wet I am for you already.”

Fuck. He ran a hand down his face, pulse hammering. “Keep talking like that, and I won’t be able to walk back inside.”

She chuckled, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. “Oh? I was just getting started. Should I stop?”

He gritted his teeth. “Valentina.”

“Ilya.”

“Go home,” he ordered, his voice tight with restraint, leaving no room for argument. “Be in bed when I get there. Naked. Wearing those fucking heels.Waiting. And you won’t touch yourself. Not until I’m back.”

She hummed, satisfied, and he could hear the rustling again, like she was straightening herself out, putting an end to his suffering. “Hurry, then,” she said, her tone coy but breathless. “Ireallywant to see you.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, before promising, “I’ll be there soon, Baby. I promise.”

She hung up first, leaving him hot, frustrated, and grinning like a fucking idiot.

He pulled himself together and strode back into the building, where Kostya and their guest were waiting. For the next ten to fifteen minutes, Ilya wrestled between staying in business mode and keeping his sanity intact. His mind kept drifting?his gaze flicking to his watch, counting down the seconds until he could be with Valentina again. Until he could slide into her tight, wet cunt, and feel her wrapped around him. Until he could silence that teasing mouth with his own. Until all she could do was moan his name.

But just before their meeting came to an end, Ilya’s phone rang, shifting attention to him.

Ilya glanced from the screen to Kostya.Viktor.

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