Page 20 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"Jesus Christ, Rose," he pants as he watches me work his length frantically with my tongue and lips. "You’re going to make me come..."

Just a few seconds later, I seal my lips around his tip and feel his cock spasm between them as he finally tips over the edge into his release. I don’t pull back, the warmth of his seed on my tongue a reward for giving him pleasure. Our eyes meet as he finishes, and there is a deep crease in his brow where the tension has finally found a place to unleash.

I hold myself there for a few more moments, trailing my tongue around him to make sure that I have picked up every last drop, and draw back, planting one last kiss on his head before I lean back on my heels. I can’t help but smile, feeling a little flushed from the exertion and the intense thrill of knowing that I got him off so easily. It was one thing to feel him finish in me when we were on the plane together, another to do it right here in his office with nothing but my mouth.

He offers me a hand and guides me to my feet, pinning me against the door and trailing his mouth across my neck once more.

"You need to get some rest," he tells me firmly, even as his hands roam my body.

"You’re going to make that pretty difficult, touching me like that," I counter.

He draws back almost reluctantly, but he knows that he will not be able to convince me to leave unless he stops.

"Point taken," he mutters, and he tucks himself back into his pants once more, allowing me to readjust myself, too. I almost wish I hadn’t said anything to him—I don’t want this to stop, though I know he’s right. I should be getting some rest. I have the baby to think about, on top of everything else, even if it’s hard to make sense of that right now.

"Goodnight, Rose," he says as he pushes open the door, gesturing for me to head back to my own room.

I bite my lip, searching for another reason to spend a little more time here. But I know I need to get the hell out of there already.

"Goodnight, Ilya."

And with that, I turn to head back to my room. My bare feet on the wooden floor fill the room with a soft slapping sound, but my head is still ringing from everything that just happened. Where does this leave us? Do we just pick up where we left off on the plane? Or is this the kind of one-time thing that I would be better off forgetting ever happened?

I have no idea. But maybe, come morning, things will seem a little clearer.

Even if they’re more of a mess than they are right now.

Chapter 11

Rose

Flexing my hands at my sides, I try to muster up all the courage I need to walk through that door. It might not be easy, but I have to tell Ilya what’s going on inside my head or I will lose it. The confines of this prison can only hold me for so long, and I have given him plenty of my time as it is.

Two weeks. Two weeks since I arrived here. Two weeks since I found out everything that Petar had been planning. Two weeks since what little life I’d been able to call my own had fallen apart at the seams. When all of this had happened, when I had first discovered Petar cheating on me, I could never in a million years have guessed this was where it would leave me: locked up in the mansion of a beast who seems intent on keeping me under wraps, with no idea when or if I would ever make my escape.

Right now, I’m standing outside Ilya’s office, trying to convince myself to push open that door and step inside. He has to hear me out. It can’t be legal for him to keep me here against my will, no matter his reasons for treating me like a prisoner in his home. I have practiced everything that I’m going to say to him, to ensure there is no choice but for him to let me out. I need to get back to work; hell, I don’t even know if the shop is still open, given that he’s the one who owns it now. He could have shut it down right then and there and left me and everyone who worked there completely out of a job.

God, how am I going to take care of this child if I don’t have any money?

Inside, I can make out voices, and I realize that I must be interrupting Ilya in the middle of something. I press my ear to the door, trying to hear the conversation happening inside. Perhaps it could give me a few hints as to where his head’s at and allow me to navigate what lies ahead.

"… but all I’m asking is whether you’ve had the opportunity to confirm the pregnancy," Sergei’s voice carefully queries.

My heart skips a beat. Why is he talking about me?

"I don’t need to," Ilya replies bluntly. "I know it’s real."

Relief washes through me at the sound of those words. So, Ilya trusts me, at least on this matter. That has to count for something. Bolstered, I plant my hand against the door and push it open before I can talk myself out of it.

Ilya and Sergei look around at the same moment, both surprised that I’m making my presence known. I toss my hair over one shoulder, looking between them, and muster every bit of my confidence before I speak again.

"Ilya, I need to speak with you."

"I’m in a meeting right now with Sergei," he replies, gesturing to the man before him without skipping a beat. "You’ll have to wait."

I roll my eyes skyward. "I’ve been waiting long enough," I protest. "I’m tired of just sitting around this place, waiting for you to decide what to do with me. I want out!”

Sergei looks to Ilya, as though surprised I would have the nerve to ask such a thing right there in Ilya’s own house. Maybe I am crazy, but honestly, I do not care. Ilya might be a big, scary boss to most people, but I am not the type to back down in the face of any threat.