Wild Heir (Fated Royals 4)

But not from him. We talked about our fathers, his so much more successful and so different from mine, and about our mothers. About that particular ache of a mom who is unwell and suffering, and how much we wished we could help.

Guilty as well, that we were missing out on a certain care they were unable to provide.

Being there with him, it felt like home. More so than my own in a way. With every comfortable moment in his company, I felt myself falling harder and faster for him. It wasn’t just that I could love him. Watching him there, talking to me, staying close and attentive, I realized I already did love him.

That thought closed my throat in its own conflicted terror.

I felt like I was being swept away, losing my internal sense of what was best for me and my situation. A sailor adrift in an unfamiliar ocean. I knew I was being irresponsible. So many things were swirling around in my life and I sat here as though none of it was real. How easily we deceive ourselves sometimes.

He had a power over me, an indefinable strength, that I’d never felt around another person; I knew in my heart that if he asked me to do something, I would to it. Anything. Everything.

Whatever it was, my answer would be yes.

And I was petrified. The feelings in my heart put me on the defensive, and before I knew it, they’d made me lash out without thinking.

“If you ever abandon me like that,” I said, “I will never speak to you again. Be a good boy, or I’ll take all this,” I waved a hand to indicate myself, “away from you.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I kicked myself for saying them. But the words were already out there, hanging between us. And there was no way for me to take them back.

“Excuse me?” he said, flashing with that dominant anger I’d seen in his eyes now more than once.

I was too afraid of the look in his eye to say anything else. My cheeks burned hot with embarrassment at the outburst in a moment that should have been left alone. But also with fury. Because I really did mean what I said. Even if I shouldn’t have said it.

He didn’t speak either, but instead pushed the table aside and then planted his hand on my sternum, heavy and foreboding, forcing me onto my back on the floor.

The V of his hand pressed into my throat, and I felt my own heartbeat ricocheting back at me. With his other hand, he slid my nightdress up my body, rough and intense. Then he placed one knee on either side of my hips and let me take some of his weight.

“Don’t you fucking pick fights with me, Princess,” he said.

Glancing down, I saw his erection pressing hard against his pants. So hard, in fact, that I could make out the outline of its thick shaft and broad head.

“Sorry,” I whispered, looking up at his face. The flickering fire highlighted the strong angles of his jaw and cheeks.

He was so exquisitely handsome it was almost hard for me to stare too closely; like looking straight into an eclipse. But when I glanced away, he shifted his hand to pinch my jaw more tightly, forcing me to look back up at him.

Once again, I felt that fear—of getting too close, of getting my heart broken, of being left alone and forgotten. But instead of pulling back from my fear, I let myself go towards it. I allowed myself to feel my deepest desire—to please him, to obey him.

To listen and learn.

To trust.

And when I did that, I felt myself relax. I let my heart open to him.

Even though I hadn’t said a word, it was as if he could feel that shift inside me. He caged me in with his massive arm to my left, and leaned down into me. Full soft lips took possession of me and I melted into a feeling I should not.

Hope.

The longer the kiss went, the wetter I became. Once I was panting and pawing at his cock to free it from his pants, he pulled away from the kiss.

Hitching up his hips, he yanked his pants halfway down his ass. I hooked my toe over the waistband to push them down his thighs.

Then he positioned his cock right at my opening, and growled into my ear, “You fucking belong to me. And I’m going to prove it to you tonight.”Chapter 17VasileShe had no right, no fucking right, to be so sexy and perfect—it made me hate her for it and love her even more.

I unleashed all my power into her—all of it. I took her missionary, deep and hard, ramming my cock ruthlessly against her cervix. With every thrust, with every drive, I imagined shooting my hot seed into her cunt.