Page 30 of False Heir

I just wished she could see herself the way I saw her.

Adriana’s eyes flicked up to mine, challenging. “I don’t think you can.”

That did it. The challenge in her voice was all the invitation I needed. With a swift movement, I scooped her into my arms, her body cradled against my chest as she let out a gasp mixed with laughter. I carried her a few steps to the bed and with a playful growl, tossed her onto the mattress.

She bounced slightly, her eyes alight with surprise and something else—desire. I didn’t waste time admiring her flushed cheeks; instead, I leaned down to capture her mouth with mine, tasting the laughter still lingering on her lips.

As I kissed her, my lips traveled from her mouth to her neck, tracing the path of her pulse with gentle nips and kisses. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, guiding me to where she wanted me most. I obliged, trailing kisses lower until I reached the soft curves of her breasts.

“Oh, god,” she breathed out.

“Adriana,” I murmured against her skin, pulling back to look at her. Her chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, a flush spreading across her cheeks. The sight sent a jolt of heat through me, but concern edged in as well. She did look tired, the toll of our insatiable appetites evident in the delicate shadows beneath her eyes.

“Why did you stop?”

“Hey,” I said softly, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. “We don’t have to do anything, you know. You’re probably sore, and we’ve been...well, quite active.” I offered her a half-smile, my own way of acknowledging our shared hunger without making her feel pressured.

Her laughter was a melodic sound that eased the tightness in my chest. “Active is one word for it,” she teased. Despite the lightness in her voice, her body relaxed under my touch, grateful for the reprieve.

“Still,” I continued, the idea forming and solidifying in my mind, “I would love to take a picture of you, just like this, with my cum on your tits. For the wank bank. So you don’t have to do anything if you’re tired.” It was crude, but it was honest, and I watched her face for any sign of displeasure.

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Jesus. You’re so romantic.”

“I’m Robert Frost, babe,” I said.

To my relief, Adriana’s laugh filled the room again. “I am sore, but...” She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay. But only if you promise that no one else will ever see that picture.”

“Cross my heart,” I vowed solemnly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I would never share pictures of my future wife with anyone.”

The tenderness between us shifted, giving way to a renewed spark of desire. “Can I touch you then?” I whispered, hovering above her. “Make you come without fucking you?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

I lowered my hand, tracing the outline of her sex over the fabric of her leggings. She squirmed beneath me, her hips seeking more pressure, more friction. Carefully, I slipped my hand underneath the waistband, finding the slick warmth that awaited me. Her sharp intake of breath was my cue to continue.

“Fuck,” she breathed out sharply when she spoke.

“Relax, Ade,” I soothed as I began a slow, deliberate dance with my fingers. Watching her come apart under my touch was a privilege, one I would never tire of. And as she climbed higher, her cries filling the room, I knew that this—us, together—was everything I’d ever wanted.

Her breath hitched in her throat as I continued my slow torture, her hips rolling in time with my touch. The sight of her flushed skin and shut eyes, her lips parting to release soft, muffled cries was nothing short of intoxicating. The way she moved beneath me was a sight I’d remember for a lifetime.

“Tristan” she gasped, gripping me tighter. Her body tensed, eyes clenched shut as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. The sight of her, writhing beneath me in a pleasure-filled haze was all the motivation I needed.

“Don’t hold back,” I whispered against her ear, my voice husky. “I want to hear you.”

My words seemed to unleash something within her because the next moment, she let out a low, throaty moan as she came. Sweat coated her skin, making it glisten under the dim lighting of the room. Her chest was heaving, eyes wide with surprise and pleasure.

I had no idea how I hadn’t come myself from watching her unravel under me. “Okay,” I said. “I’m going to touch myself now, and I’m going to make you come again.

I positioned my body next to hers so I could keep playing with her clit while she desperately undid the zipper of my jeans.

With a few quick jerks, she freed my length from the confines of my jeans, and I couldn’t help the groan that slipped past my lips. The feel of her hand, so warm and soft against my straining erection was enough to drive me wild. But I held onto my control. For her.

My hardness throbbed against the cool air. My hand instinctively moved down to grip myself, a long, deep groan escaping from my lips as I began to stroke. Adriana’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, her gaze dropping to where my hand was pumping my length. I touched her clit as I did this, surprised at just how responsive she was.

I moved my fingers in a slow circular motion, watching as the pleasure ramped up in her expression, her eyes fluttering closed. The sight further fueled my own arousal, making me stroke myself faster, harder.

“Watch me,” I commanded, never breaking eye contact. With every upward stroke of my hand, Adriana’s pupils dilated further until she was practically panting with lust. I could feel her slickness coating my fingers as I stroked her clit in tandem with my own movements.

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