Page 113 of Savage Vicious Heir: Part Two

I thrust forward, making her cry out and leaving very little question about what’s happening up here right now.

“I don’t care what he threatens me with,” Abigail forces out as I set a frantic pace. “He can do his worst. I’m not ashamed.”

“Fuck, Red. You’re incredible.”

In only minutes, my balls are drawing up.

I want it to go on forever. I want to lose myself in her and never come up for air.

“Never going to get enough of this. Never.”

Pulling her arse from the wall, I fuck her deeper, harder, giving her everything I have despite knowing that it’ll never be enough.

“Yes. Yes. Elliot,” she cries, making my chest puff out with pride.

My girl.

My fucking girl.

With her hands gripping my upper arms and her nails sinking deliciously into my skin, she comes all over my dick, squeezing me impossibly tight and giving me little choice but to fall over the edge with her.

“Abigail,” I roar as my cock jerks deep inside her, filling her with my seed. “Fuck.”

Before my limbs give out from the intensity of the release, I pull her from the wall and lower her to the stairs. It’s not the most comfortable place to lay her, but I need a minute before even considering carrying her up to my bed where she belongs.

I’ve barely come back to myself when noise from downstairs hits my ears.

“Oh my God,” Abigail gasps, quickly covering her face with her hands as the round of applause from downstairs gets louder.

“Fucking morons,” I mutter into the crook of Abigail’s neck.

She laughs deliriously, her arms wrapping around me. She holds me so tight, I can’t help but wonder if she thinks I’m going to try to escape.

“We’re going to figure this out, Red. One way or another, I’m going to break free. The only person I belong to is you.”

28

ABIGAIL

“Hmm, this is nice,” I murmur as I trail my fingertips across Elliot’s chest.

“Want to wake up with you every morning,” he replies sleepily, tightening his arm around my hip.

Heat flares inside me but I don’t act on it.

I’m too content lying here in his bed, tangled up in his arms.

For a second, I thought he might do something stupid like confront his father. But whatever the boys said to him seems to have worked.

“Elliot, I need to pee,” I whisper, aware that he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

He releases me and I slip out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom. Every inch of me aches but in the best possible way.

Something changed last night. It’s always intense between us but there’s been a shift.

I want to believe it’s because he’s finally accepted that I’m his. That I’m not going anywhere regardless of his father’s threats.

I refuse to think about that. About what he might say about me and my family.

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