Page 52 of Owned By the Russian

Her arousal dripped down his fingers as he slid them away before slotting them into his mouth, lapping her essence like it was a drug. “Still so fucking sweet.”

“Ilya,” she snapped, twisting to glare at him.

He smirked and shoved his slacks down just enough. “That’s my girl.”

Then he was thrusting into her, burying himself to the hilt in one hard, desperate stroke. Valentina choked back a moan, her body arching, hands scrambling for purchase against the door.

“Fuck,” Ilya groaned, his grip bruising on her hips as he pulled back and slammed into her again. “Fucking missed this pussy.”

Valentina bit her lip, trying to keep quiet, but he was relentless?pounding into her with brutal, hungry thrusts, his fingers digging into her waist, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

Her moans turned into whimpers, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, and he leaned in, kissing the back of her neck, his voice rough in her ear as his hips snapped loudly against hers.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “So fucking perfect, taking me like this. You love it, don’t you?”

Valentina nodded, panting, her body tightening around him. He was fucking her so hard that she surrendered completely to him, letting him use her the way only he knew how to. The way she liked it.

“That’s it, Baby,” he coaxed, moving faster, rougher. “Come for me.”

A few more thrusts and she shattered, pleasure ripping through her like a surge of electricity, leaving her boneless in his hold. Ilya groaned as he followed, burying himself deep, his fingers gripping her hips as she milked his orgasm out of him.

For a moment, they just stood there, panting, their bodies still molded together. Then, with a lazy, smug grin, Ilya kissed her on the slick, bare skin of her shoulder.

“Told you you’d come back for more.”

Valentina barely had time to fix her dress before Ilya was already straightening his tux, smoothing a hand over his beard, looking as put together as ever.

Meanwhile, her legs still trembled, and her heart was hammering in her chest.

Breathlessly, she shot him a glare. “It’s not my fault you have a magic wand for a dick.”

Ilya chuckled, tucking himself back into his slacks. “Fucking minx.” He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her swollen lips. They kissedtooaffectionately,toodeeply, for a beattoolong. Then he stepped back like he was burnt by a flame. His expression shifted into something unreadable. “See you at the party.”

Valentina returned to the gathering after him as if nothing had happened, slipping seamlessly back into their usual dynamics?sharp insults, lingering looks, pretending that he hadn’t just fucked her senses away in that tiny dark room, desperate and ravenous for each other.

But something was shifting, an invisible thread tightening between them. Valentina could feel it in their kiss, every time their gazes met across the room, every time his fingers brushed against hers in passing.

As the night wore on, she decided she was ready to go home. But as she stood to leave, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her, and she swayed, grabbing onto Rhiannon for support.

“Whoa,” Rhi said, steadying her. “You okay, Babe?”

Valentina blinked, trying to shake off the lightheadedness. The queasiness from earlier had returned with a vengeance, and her stomach lurched. “I think?I just need air.”

But Rhiannon wasn’t convinced. The sudden paleness of Val’s face and the unsteady walk didn’t help either. Rhi ushered her out of the venue and straight to the hospital, her worry outweighing Valentina’s protests.

An hour later, she sat in a sterile exam room, staring blankly at the doctor in front of her, her ears ringing as she registered his words.

Pregnant.

The word rang in her head like a gunshot, moving in circles around her mind, and for a long moment, she couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

Except it was.

The sex with Ilya had been raw, but she had been confident in her birth control. A little too confident.

Rhiannon’s grip on her hand tightened, her eyes slightly wide. “Val…”

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