You come down the stairs quietly, trying not to wake anyone as you search for a late-night snack. As you step into the kitchen, you freeze. Ana is bent over the sink, her tight jeans perfectly outlining her prominent behind as she washes a glass.

"Hmph. What are you doing here so late?" She straightens up, turning to face you with a sharp glare. Her thick Russian accent is unmistakable. Her delicate features crinkle slightly as she leans closer, sniffing the air. "Is that alcohol I smell? You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? You are just like my son’s other friends—reckless and foolish." She crosses her arms, her cold, piercing eyes fixed on you.

She steps closer, her heels clicking against the floor. "I should wake my husband. He would not like to know his son’s friend behaves so irresponsibly."

"It's none of your business what I do," you say defensively, stepping back a bit. "And don't think I didn't notice the way you were sneaking out earlier to find your own snack." You feel anger rising in you as her sharp gaze and sarcastic remarks hit their mark.

"Oh really?" she says, raising an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that? That I'm jealous of my husband's attention being stolen by someone else?" She laughs coldly and shakes her head. "No, dear boy, you don't know anything about me." Her tone is as mean-spirited as ever.

You narrow your eyes at her in response. This was exactly the reaction you wanted to provoke.

"Oh?" she says mockingly, her blue eyes narrowing. "You think that would impress me? That you know how to get under my skin? Let me tell you something, boy," she says, moving even closer now. Her voice drops to a whisper as her words are laced with venom, "I've seen far better men than you. And I will never be impressed by your cheap attempts at intimidation."

Her pale hand snaps out and roughly pushes against your chest, forcing you back a step. The feeling of her fingertips on your skin sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to let it show. You glare right back at her, unwavering.

She snorts derisively at your attempt to match her force. "Such pathetic bravado," she says with a sneer. "You really think you can push me around just because you've had a bit too much to drink? Well, let me tell you something else." Her pale hand moves up slightly and cups your cheek roughly, her long fingernails digging into the skin. "I could have any man I want," she whispers, her breath warm on your face. "But I chose him. So if you ever want to remain in my good graces, you'll remember that."

She releases you and takes a step back, regaining her composure with an icy glare. Her tone turns mockingly sweet as she says, "And now, why don't you be a good little guest and return to bed? It would be such a shame if word got out that I let you

Her eyes widen in surprise as your grip tightens around her waist, pulling her closer to you despite her initial attempt to maintain a cool distance. "What do you think you're doing?" she hisses through gritted teeth, struggling against your strength futilely. Her blonde hair cascades over your hands, tickling your skin as you hold on tighter.

For a brief moment, her face flushes with anger and surprise before cooling down again. "Fine," she breathes out between clenched teeth, conceding defeat for now. "But don't expect me to forget this." Her pale hand reaches up and gently pushes against your chest once more, forcing you to let go of her waist. She steps backward, regaining her composure as she eyes you warily.

With a final dismissive snort, she turns on her heel and returns to the living room

She lets out a startled gasp as you grab her by the hip and roughly force her against your own. The impact makes her stumble slightly before she regains her balance, narrowing her eyes at you hatefully. Her anger surges, but so does an unwelcome thrill of arousal. She hates feeling like this, like someone has power over her.

"What the hell is your problem?" she hisses through clenched teeth, trying to regain control of the situation. "Let go of me before you make things worse for both of us." Her hand flies up, fingers spreading wide as she prepares to strike.

Her strike misses your chest by inches as you force her down to the ground with her back against yours. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she feels a mix of humiliation and desire surge through her. She squirms and twists beneath you, trying to break free, but you hold fast. With every movement, her body presses more tightly against yours, their heat mingling despite the cold tile floor beneath them.

"You don't know what you're playing with," she whispers breathlessly, her face only inches from yours. Her words come out hoarse and low as lust clouds her thoughts. "I could make things very difficult for you." Her fingers dig into your skin through your shirt as she arches her back, offering herself to him in spite of herself.

Your hips press against hers, and Ana feels herself grow even wetter. Her breath comes out in short gasps as she meets your gaze, her eyes darkening with desire. She wants to push you away, but at the same time she's afraid of what will happen if she does. "What do you want from me?" she whispers, her voice shaking with uncertainty and arousal.

Her hand slides up your chest, over your neck, and into your hair, gripping tightly as she pulls your face closer to hers. Their lips meet in a searing kiss, tongues tangling hungrily as they fight for dominance. She arches her back even further, pressing her body against yours, unable to resist the heat that spreads through her at his touch.

Ana Ivanova:Her hips move against yours in rhythm with the kiss, and she moans deeply into your mouth.

Her hands fly to his belt, fumbling with the buckle and zipper until she has what she needs in her hand. Gripping his hard length, she guides it toward her aching core and slides down atop him. He's thick and hot, filling her completely as they both groan in unison. She begins to ride him roughly, their bodies moving together in a frenzied dance of desire and anger.

Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her neck, as she closes her eyes and focuses on the sensations coursing through her. Ana bites down on her lower lip to stifle a moan, relishing the power she has over Fernando at last. With each thrust upward, he fills her even more completely, their skin slapping together in a rhythm that threatens to send them both over the edge.

Her hand reaches between them and finds his