Page 42 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

For a second, Becky just stands there, clearly too stunned to make sense of anything that has just happened. But before I can begin to offer her any kind of answer, Ilya takes me around the waist and steers me to the door.

"Come on,” he grumbles. “We’re leaving."

"What?" I exclaim. "No, I need to explain to Becky what⁠—"

"We have to go," he insists, and his grip tightens on me slightly, a clear sign not to defy him.

I lock eyes with Becky apologetically, and she reaches out to give my hand a squeeze. "I’ll call you later, okay?" I murmur to her in apology, and she nods just before Ilya steers me to the door. There is no point arguing with him. When he’s made his mind up, he might as well be an immovable object.

"You don’t have to drag me around, you know," I snap as he strides back towards the car.

He pauses, turning to me, and the sunlight casts shadows over his angular face. I find it hard to read his expression—aside from the anger.

"She really thought Petar would come back to you?” he mutters.

I stare at him for a second, surprised that he would take something like that so seriously. "I have no idea," I reply. "I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever given him any indication that I want a fucking thing to do with him, after the way he treated me."

I cock an eyebrow, a stir of defiance showing up in my chest.

"And besides, looked like she was way more interested in you than me by the time that she left," I point out. I am half-joking, but I realize as soon as the words come out of my mouth that I’m still jealous she laid her hand on him. I know it’s ridiculous, that he’s the one who claimed me and not the other way around, but I can’t shake it.

His face darkens as he closes the distance between us. "You think I wanted her to touch me?" he growls. Though he is not laying a hand on me now, I can feel something coming off of him in waves—something insistent, something fiery. The same heat I felt when he fucked me on that table.

"I don’t know what you want," I shoot back. "That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out since I got here, in case you didn’t notice."

His gaze lingers on me for a moment, as though he’s trying to find the best way to respond to my sudden attitude. And then, before I can say another word, he grabs my hand and leads me down the alleyway between the back of the store and the building next door.

"What are you doing?" I exclaim.

He turns, pinning me against the grimy wall right there. "You want me to show you what I want?" he says, pushing my hands above my head, instantly in total command of my body. "You need me to remind you, Rose?”

I hardly have time to think of an answer when his lips slam against mine. A kiss that’s meant to claim, meant to remind me of just what he needs from me. He presses himself against me, and I can already feel the stiffness of his cock through his pants, like he wants me to feel every inch of his desire.

I gasp against his lips, wondering if I should stop this before it goes any further. I mean, it’s the middle of the morning, on a street that’s normally busy with customers. We could be caught at any second, and I don’t know what kind of trouble that might get us in. With Ilya’s connections with the cops, it’s hard to believe he wouldn’t find a way out of it, but still...

He hitches me off the ground, hands beneath my ass as he pins me between himself and the wall. The skirt of my dress falls around us, and he pulls it aside so that he can slip his hand into my panties.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel how fucking wet you are for me already, Rose?”

He draws his hand back, letting me see my own slickness smeared over his fingertips, and I gasp. I can’t deny how much I want him, even if it means we’ll get caught. Maybe there’s even a part of me that wants that, for us to be exposed, because it means no one will be able to deny just how badly he needs me.

He pushes his fingers into my mouth, letting me taste my own wetness as he slips his arm beneath my ass to keep me upright, allowing me to thread my legs around him. I want him inside me, want him to show me that the woman who flirted with him means nothing at all to him. I know it’s reckless, and I should know better, but when he looks at me like that, as though he wants to burn himself into my memory, there’s nothing I can do but let him have me however he desires.

With the musk of my wetness still hot on my tongue, I watch as he drops his hand to his cock and unzips his pants, pulling himself out of the fabric. He pulls my panties to the side, bringing himself right to my entrance, and I groan as I feel him nudge against my slit. The last time we did this, it was when he took me on that table in the meeting room with his men watching, but somehow this feels even riskier. Anyone could walk by, glance along the alleyway, and see him taking me, but that only sends a shiver of excitement through my system.

He pushes into me roughly, filling me in a single stroke as he presses his face into my neck. I hear him groan as he enters me, and I wrap my arms around him, drawing him in even closer. His teeth graze my neck for a moment, as if he’s telling me he could tear a chunk out of me if he wanted to. The danger, the thrill… I know I’m becoming addicted to it, addicted to him, this man who has had me in ways nobody else ever has before, and there is nothing I won’t do to indulge myself in more, more, more.

He fucks me hard and fast, as though he is trying to make a point with each and every thrust. My ankles hook behind him without me realizing, my body taking over so that my mind can give in to nothing but the sheer, intense need that feels like it might overwhelm me at any moment. The way he’s moving against me, he’s grinding into my clit with every thrust, and I know it will not take long for me to come.

I could call it pregnancy hormones, but I know it’s more than that. I know it’s him, this man who has given me so much, this man who knows exactly what I want and exactly how to give it to me...

I finally tip over the edge, my body squeezing around him as though I never want to give him up. I cry out, and he reaches up to clamp a hand over my mouth to silence me, though I’m sure it is too late for that now. Everyone on this whole street must have heard the animal noise I just made, but it’s hard for me to care, not when he feels so fucking good inside me. I tighten around him, every inch of me pulsing with need as my pussy clenches over and over again, sending aftershocks of pleasure spiraling through my nerve endings.

Ilya bottoms out within me just a few moments later, slamming himself inside my orgasming body like he wants to draw my pleasure out for himself, too. I push my fingers into his hair, pulling him up so that I can look into his eyes as both of us lose ourselves, and he kisses me once more as he fills me with his seed, that white-hot reminder of who owns me, of who my body will always belong to.

"That enough to remind you?" he rasps against my mouth, still breathing hard. I can feel the thumping of his heart against my chest, and I grin, brushing my lips against his as I tighten my thighs around him. As reckless as it is, I don’t want to give him up, not yet. I don’t want this moment to be over.

"I think I might be getting the picture now," I concede innocently.