Page 53 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"I want to be inside you when you come," he tells me, his voice taking on a raspy edge that speaks to the depths of his desire.

Speechless, I hook my ankles behind his back, pulling him to me eagerly.

Keeping me propped against the wall, he takes his cock in his hand, leaning back slightly so that he can line himself up with me. I look down as I watch the tip of his head slip past my engorged lips, my own slickness mixing with the water pouring all over us. And, just like that, I watch as he feeds himself into me inch by inch, savoring my walls tightening around him.

We moan in unison, his eyes meeting mine once more to take in every detail of my lust. He presses his hips to mine until our bodies are flush together, and I grasp the back of his neck as the two of us breathe into each other, the pleasure just as shocking as it was the first time.

But this is not like the first time—when I hardly knew who he was, when we both imagined each other to be little more than a random, anonymous fuck. No, now he’s the man I love, the man who has protected me and cared for me and shown me how deeply he cares about our child. The man I know I will never let go of. And he feels just the same way; I can see it written all over his face, his need for me laid bare as he begins to move inside me at last.

He pushes himself into me over and over again, blurring the edges between us until it feels like we are one being. No part of me wants to resist him now, and no part of me could, even if I’d wanted to. My pussy closes around him like we were carefully crafted for one another.

My body rises to meet his over and over again as he strokes into me, never taking his eyes off me, occasionally leaning in to steal a brief kiss that tangles our tongues. I sink my nails into the back of his neck as I gaze at him, drinking in his expression, wanting to commit this moment to memory because I know I will never get it back. This is the first time he’s been anything other than completely dominant when we are together. Even though he’s still very much the one calling the shots, it feels like I’m seeing him for the first time. It’s like he’s open to me in ways he wasn’t before.

I am addicted to it, this feeling of closeness, and I'm not going to let anything take it away from me.

He rocks into me, massaging me from the inside out as our eyes burn into one another.

"I want to feel you come, Rose," he rasps, and my body trembles someplace deep inside, a part of me responding that I hardly knew existed.

I whimper. He brushes his lips across mine again, just the barest touch, but it’s enough to set my nerve endings on fire with need.

"Come on," he urges me, drawing back and slamming himself deep again. "Come on, Rose, I know you want to give it to me..."

I’m teetering right on the brink, my pleasure at the very crest as he talks me through it—and then, I crash over the other side, my entire system seizing for a moment. My pussy clenches around him, clutching him tight like I never want to let him go, and I cry out so loudly that I can hear it even over the rushing water. I’m hardly aware of the stream around us, of the cool tile against my head, the jasmine scent in the air—no, the only thing I can focus on is him.

I tense around him time and time again, and then he plunges all the way into my pussy one last time as he comes, letting out an animal-like groan. My gaze flutters shut, my body shaking from the pleasure still pulsing through it in that moment.

All we can do is hold each other there, both of us breathing hard, as we come back down to earth. Ilya grins, and I let out a shaky laugh as I realize how intently we’ve been staring at each other. He kisses me one more time and then slowly guides me down from the shower, letting me lean against him so that my quaking legs don’t give out from under me.

"Let’s actually get you clean, huh?” he murmurs as he reaches for the shower gel. He pours a generous amount into his hands and works it over my body, taking his time to lather up each inch of skin before he guides me beneath the water to rinse it off. It feels so good, on my already-relaxed muscles, for him to lavish me with attention like this.

"I could get used to this," I reply softly, glancing over my shoulder.

He chuckles. "Maybe I want you to," he says.

When he’s done rinsing me off under the spray, he shuts off the water, stepping out of the shower and wrapping himself in a towel before he holds one out for me.

"I think I’m okay," I tell him, brushing it aside. I just want to be naked with him right now. I feel so safe when he’s this close to me, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of it, even some cotton.

He drops his towel and lets me lead him to the bedroom, where he lays on the bed, pulling me against him. I run my hand across his chest, breathing in the scent of him. Even after the shower, there is something so intoxicating about the smell of his skin, something I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to put my finger on.

"How are you feeling?” he asks me, running his fingers lazily through my hair.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to think of what I can say that’s both honest and won’t worry him too much.

"I’m... okay," I reply. "I spoke to Becky; that helped. She was relieved that nothing came of it in the end."

He doesn’t reply for a moment. No doubt part of him is pissed at Becky, knowing she’s the one who put me in danger, but at the end of the day, she’s my friend, and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that.

"I’m glad," he finally says gruffly.

"And what about you?" I ask as I prop myself up on his chest, looking into his eyes searchingly. I’m not sure what to expect. It must have been one hell of a thing to get his head around, everything that’s happened in the last day. But as he looks back at me, I see nothing but a clear-headed calmness that catches me by surprise.

"I’m here," he replies simply. "That’s all I care about right now."

He draws my head back to his chest, his hand resting on the back of my neck—not too hard, but firmly enough to tell that he’s there, that he has no intention of going anywhere else. I know what he means. No matter what might be going on outside this door, there’s something so peaceful about being alone together, the two of us with nothing else to figure out.

I know that the entire world will be recalibrated from the moment he steps outside this door. I can’t even imagine the lengths he’ll have to go through to make sure that everything he’s worked for doesn’t slip through his fingers. And I want nothing more than to be here for him through all of it, to make sure that I pull my weight in establishing whatever comes next. After all, our lives will revolve around our child, and that bond between us is deeper than anything I could have imagined.