Page 31 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

I do as I’m told, feeling like I’m under some kind of trance. I wonder if he’ll break and admit that this is nothing more than a power play to see how I react, but he doesn’t show any signs of stopping. Instead, once I’m standing, he grabs me by the waist, pulls me in close to him—and kisses me hard, his tongue slipping into my mouth, right there in front of the watchful eyes of his men.

Excitement and nervousness mingle inside me in a confusing but thrilling mix as his hands pull me closer. I have never done anything sexual with an audience, and I know that I shouldn't really be letting this happen. It's dangerous to give myself over to someone in a room full of men I don't even know. How they might react, what they might do, it's impossible to tell—but when Ilya’s hands are on me, his voice still ringing in my ears, I know I can trust him. I know he won’t let anything happen to me. And I know, clear as day, that none of these men will dare move a muscle until he tells them they can.

He pushes me back towards the table, moving me until I’m lying on top of it, facing him. My legs dangle beneath my skirt over the edge, and he shoves his knee between my legs to part my thighs with ease, moving between them as he looks down at me. He is ringed by dim light, and, as he towers over me, all I can see is the bastion of power that he represents, the colossus who stares down at me with desire that he wants every single person in this room to see.

Slowly, he slides his hand down to his cock, taking his zipper and tugging it away from his body. I gasp as it hits me that this is really, truly happening. He is going to fuck me right here, in front of all of his men, and there is nothing I want more than for him to lay claim to me where nobody could possibly doubt it.

He draws his cock into his hand. I gaze up at him, not daring to reach for him given the way he pinned me to the bed the last time we were together. I know this is about him, what he wants, what he intends to do to me, and I want nothing more than to give myself over to him. If this is what he thinks it will take to protect me, to protect our child, then I don't care what kind of judgment might come raining down on my head. That note has shaken me, and he is making the kind of statement that nobody will be able to deny.

"Take off your panties."

I slip my hands beneath my long skirt, pushing down my underwear and letting them drop to the floor. I feel something in the room shift as the men look on, and I wonder if Ilya has ever done anything like this before. I sense that the men are surprised but not entirely shocked, like this is exactly the kind of move Ilya has been known to make in the past: big statements that can’t be ignored.

Ilya moves slowly between my thighs, shifting until he’s standing just a few inches away from me. I part my legs a little further, my belly rising and falling swiftly as I wait to feel him against me. I can't believe this is happening, but then maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise that he’s so able to take what he wants with so little pushback. Even when it comes to me, there is something about him that demands my attention and compliance, and it has only grown stronger and stronger with every day I have spent in this mansion.

He guides himself against me, and I let out a moan that shatters the quiet in the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his men shift in his seat, and I wonder if he is aroused by the sight of me taking Ilya’s cock on the table. The thought of it makes my head spin, my pussy tingling with pressure at the idea of being shown off in this way. Not only does Ilya want me, but he wants everyone here to know that he does, and I can't think of anything hotter than that.

He flexes his hips suddenly, sliding all the way inside me. The shocking fullness draws another cry from my lips, and I squirm, my body adjusting to his girth, spreading me open. My eyes flutter shut, but he reaches down to grasp my face in his hand, drawing me back so that I’m looking at him.

"Eyes on me," he insists, and I dare not break his gaze as he begins to move inside me, taking me in long, slow strokes that shudder through every inch of my body.

As much as I can feel every man in the room watching me, I can do nothing but look back at Ilya, my body given over to him completely. I can feel his words throbbing in my mind with every heartbeat, rushing through my veins like my blood, my lifeforce. The promise to protect me, to do whatever it takes to show that I belong to him. I grip the table as I look up at him, his hand still on my chin, leaving me no choice but to gaze into his eyes and take everything he gives me.

He fucks me hard and fast, staking his claim on me, and my body responds to it, something stirring deep in my belly. I hook my legs around him, draw him in even deeper, and the atmosphere in the room could be cut with a knife as the men watch together. The only sounds in the room are Ilya’s grunts as he fucks me and the soft whimpers that escape my lips as I spiral closer and closer to my release. He takes hold of my hips, pulling me down towards him, leaving no room between my body and his. It’s like he wants to meld us together entirely, so that nobody but him can lay hands on me.

My breath comes in starts as my belly begins to clench, my thighs twitching on either side of him, my pussy tugging at his cock with every thrust. Does he know how it feels for me to give myself to him like this? He must. He must realize that there’s no fight left in me now, that I can see he has invaded each and every part of my life, and that the best I can do is just let him have me, any way he wants me, any way he needs me, since he knows best...

And it's that thought that pushes me over the edge, my belly rising from the table as I let out a loud moan. I can't contain myself—and don't want to—as the pleasure consumes me, tearing through my body like a goddamn forest fire as he fucks me deep. He grins as he feels my pussy spasming around him, and I can tell he takes this as further proof that he owns every inch of me, including my pleasure.

He leans over me, pinning my hands to the table, his breath picking up as he drives in deeper and deeper and deeper until...

Until I feel him fill me with his seed, his cock thrusting so far into me that it feels like we’ll never be drawn apart. I can feel him filling me, flooding the most intimate part of me with his essence, and it strikes me that this might be the very same way we conceived our child—and, for just a split second, I convince myself that he must be the father. Because there’s no way that I can feel this kind of connection with a man I am not pregnant by.

He holds himself there, breathing hard, stirring his hips against me a few times before he finally draws back. My skirts fall back down over my thighs, and my gaze softens, growing blurry around the edges from the sheer pleasure. I can feel every single one of these men watching me, drinking me in. I hardly know what to think—if Ilya expects me to say something, to protest, to argue. I wonder if this was as much a test for me as it was for the gathered men, but I figure it’s best for me not to ask.

Ilya offers me a hand and helps me to my feet. My legs tremble beneath me as I straighten up once more. As I look around, I notice that Sergei’s eyes are downcast. He seems to be doing his best to avoid looking at me right now, unlike every other man in the room. At the back of my mind, curiosity sparks—is there a reason he’s so determined to avert his gaze, or is there something here that I’m missing, something that doesn’t quite make sense to me yet?

I adjust myself as best I can, suddenly feeling a flood of awareness that I have just done this in a room full of Ilya’s men. I can hardly believe that I let this happen. But then, when it comes to Ilya, there’s almost nothing I can say no to. Every time I think I’ve managed to dig my heels in and prove that he doesn’t have a handle on me, he does something to remind me that he is the one calling the shots.

I need to keep that at the front of my mind if I want to make it through unscathed.

"Go to your room," he tells me, his voice low.

I think of arguing with him, telling him that he doesn’t just get to take me and then send me away like it’s nothing, but I swiftly think better of it. I have already pushed him to the point of no return, and I don’t want to find out what’s waiting for me if I fail to play my cards right.

Lowering my gaze to the floor, my body still throbbing from our encounter, I make my way back to my room. Whatever doubts I had about his intentions for me have vanished, at least for now. He wants me, every part of me, and he doesn’t give a damn who knows it.

And all I can hope is that I can keep up in the face of everything he has planned for me.

And for our baby.

Chapter 16

Ilya

I watch as Rose exits the room, my eyes tracing her movement until she’s gone. Even if this was more a statement than an act of passion, that doesn’t mean that I want her any less than before. I can feel the tension in the air—thick enough to cut with a knife—as I turn back to my men. Because they know that I must have been driven to the point of no return to have done something like this.

I plant my hands on the table again and flick my gaze around the room, searching for something that might give away what one of them is hiding. They can duck and dive all they want, but I know them all well—I trust them with my life, as a matter of fact. But one of them has turned against me, I am sure of it, to have found a way to sneak that note into Rose’s room. But I intend to flush out the bastard one way or another while I still can.