Page 71 of Owned By the Russian

She huffed a breathless laugh. “Better than the cufflinks I got you?”

He smirked, pulling out and fixing his clothes. “By a fucking mile.”

Valentina smoothed out the wrinkles in her gown, adjusting the fabric while Ilya did what he could do to help?tugging her dress back into place, fixing the strands of hair that had slipped free. His fingers lingered at her jaw, tracing the flushed skin he’d just kissed senseless.

She met his gaze, eyes gleaming with mischief, and smirked. “Well, Husband, let’s get married.”

Ilya ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips, his grin slow and wicked. “Let’s.”

*****

THE END