Page 18 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"Ilya..."

"I think you’re the one who needs to learn, sweetheart," he says as he continues towards me, backing me between the door and him. "Because the way you’ve been acting, I could take it that you want to get yourself in trouble. And I’m sure that’s not what you want, is it?"

His voice has this coaxing nature to it. I fight to keep my composure, but I am not sure that I’m pulling it off.

"You don’t get to tell me what I want," I protest, but some of the certainty has drained from my face, and he senses it at once.

"You sure about that?" he replies as he plants a hand on the door next to me.

I can feel my lips tingling, the pressure of the kiss he gave me before still fresh in my memory. And I want more—oh, God, though I know I should know better, I want more. I want as much as he is willing to give me, as ridiculous as that sounds. This man, the father of my child—or so he claims—has so much power over me in this moment, and I would do anything to be able to kiss him again and forget about everything I have been clinging on to.

I lock eyes with him, mustering every last inch of sureness within me. "Whatever I feel, it has nothing to do with you," I reply, summoning every last inch of haughtiness to my voice.

His hand shifts slightly, brushing over my hip. I suck in a sharp breath, unable to contain myself. He chuckles.

"Look at you," he teases me, thumb working in soft circles over my hip like he knows just what he’s doing to me. "One touch, and you’re flushed. You need to remember who’s in charge here, Rose."

His hand slips between my legs, my thighs parting to allow him closer without a second thought. Fuck. The heat brewing between us swells all at once, threatening to burn through me and take all of my good sense with it. He is not touching me anywhere he shouldn’t, at least not yet, but I find myself aching for more, unable to deny myself what I crave so badly.

"You need to learn some manners," he tells me, fingers inching slowly, slowly, slowly up towards my panties. "You need me to teach you, huh?"

I whimper as his hand grazes against the outside of my underwear. His eyes flash with enjoyment, clearly enjoying the sight of me so helpless before him.

"That’s what I thought," he murmurs, hooking my panties to the side, bringing his other arm to my waist and drawing me against him. "Don’t worry, I know just how to do it..."

His fingers find my slit, and he sinks them into me in a single motion, drawing a moan from my lips as he kisses me again. I know I should be fighting with him, digging my heels in, telling him that he doesn’t get to make these choices for me, but I am long beyond the point of resisting. As he slips past my folds, fingers pressing into that deepest part of me as he searches for a pleasure he knows I won’t be able to turn down, I lean my head back against the door to catch my breath, though it feels futile.

A jolt of pleasure races through me as his fingers find that ridge on the inside of my pussy, his thumb reaching up to press into my clit and double the pleasure coursing through my system. I groan, hips rising helplessly into him, and he bites down softly on my bottom lip. I can feel him grinning against me, sheer lust written in every inch of his movements, and I want nothing more than to let it flood through me.

"You’re so fucking wet," he murmurs. "You came in here looking for an argument, didn’t you? Knowing how I would put you right?”

I don’t have it in me to protest, though I know I should. Letting him assume all of this about me, take it as read that he knows what I want and what I need from him, is a dangerous precedent to set. But when I feel as good as I do right now, it’s hard to think about anything else.

He continues to move his fingers inside me with the expert skill of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. I manage to focus on his gaze again, his eyes coming back into focus, and the raw hunger in his gaze is almost enough to push me over the edge right then and there. I’m not sure I have ever felt this level of want from a man before. I can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against my hip, but his self-control is still on tight lockdown.

Mine, however, is starting to give. I buck my hips against him, needing more as he strokes my clit a few more times, stilling his fingers inside me. I can feel his warm breath on my skin, and the heat inside me threatens to grow to unstoppable levels. I reach for him, grasping his shoulders, sinking my nails in the silent plea for him to give me more, give me everything...

But Ilya draws back, resting his hand on my mound, pressing his palm against me. The pleasure is still intense, but it is not driving me towards orgasm as before. And judging by the look on his face, that is exactly what he intended.

“What are you…” I stammer.

"Remember your manners, Rose."

I stare at him, chest rising and falling quickly. Oh, this fucker. He knows what he’s doing to me, knows the corner he has backed me into. The pressure between my legs is rising to near-unbearable levels with every passing second, and he wants nothing more than to see me beg for it. And if I give him this, I might not be able to reclaim the high ground again. A kiss is one thing, but this, asking him for more, is everything I should have my guard up against.

And yet, as he continues to knead against my mound, I know that I don’t have it in me to fight him any longer. My knees are weak, my mind’s a mess, and the only thing left in me is the pleasure that’s blooming and demanding release. I glare at him, wishing I had something to throw back in his face, something I could use to defend myself against everything he’s doing to me.

"What do you want me to do?” he purrs.

"I want you to..."

I search for the words, but none come to mind. Language has fallen away entirely, leaving room for almost nothing else in its wake. I can’t think about anything, focus on anything, but the feel of his hand against my skin, how much I want more, but how impossible it feels to come out and say it.

"I want you to make me come,” I bite out.

It’s the closest I can come to an answer right now, but it seems to be everything he wanted to hear. He slips his hand down, dipping his fingers into the warmth and wetness of my slit, and I whimper as he tends to me like it’s the most important thing in the world.

He pushes two fingers inside my slit, reaching up slightly so that he can caress the ridge just on the inside of my pussy. I gasp, and he covers my mouth with his, a kiss that sends a shudder coursing all the way down my spine. My heart is thumping against my ribs as I arch my back slightly, giving him all the access he needs, and he is sure to give me exactly what I want.