Page 31 of False Heir

“Please...” She whimpered, her voice barely audible. I loved the sound of her pleading, the way her thighs instinctively clenched around my fingers. I sped up my pace, both on her and myself, and watched as her body convulsed with a second orgasm.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of her coming undone pushed me over the edge, and with a final groan, I came all over my hand, marking her with my release. There was a sense of satisfaction in watching my cum dribble down onto her.

Adriana’s eyes were wide as she watched me, a soft blush creeping up her neck. Her mouth hung open slightly as she tried to catch her breath, chest still heaving from the intensity of her orgasms. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight — she was utterly breathtaking.

Well, if I wasn’t going to fuck her, I was going to make this as good for her as I could. “Do you think you can come again?”

She stared at me, wide eyed. “I don’t know.”

“Should we try?”

She gave a small nod, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “Try,” she managed to croak out, her voice laced with uncertainty and anticipation.

There was a sense of pride that surged through me at her willingness, her trust in me to guide her pleasure. I moved my hand back to her center, basking in the wet warmth that awaited me. With each stroke of my fingers, I could feel her responsive shivers, hear her moan as she threw her head back.

“Look at you,” I whispered, my voice rough with desire as I remembered why I was doing this in the first place, grabbing my phone from my pocket and recording. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

I took my finger off her clit. Her chest heaved, and she looked up at me with eyes that sparkled with a mixture of lust and love. I traced my fingertips through the mess on her chest, bringing them to her lips. “Lick them clean,” I commanded softly, and she didn’t hesitate, her tongue circling my fingers with an eagerness that sent another wave of desire coursing through me.

“Tristan, please,” she begged, her need evident in her voice.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” I reassured her as I continued to touch her, watching her reactions through the screen of my phone as my hand moved down toward her clit again. Her hips bucked against my hand, seeking more contact, and I obliged, pressing down on her sensitive flesh with a rhythm that spoke of intimate knowledge, of nights spent learning every sound, every shiver, every sigh.

“Oh, fuck,” she said.

“Come for me, Ade. Show me how much you love it,” I encouraged, my voice a low growl.

And she did, her body trembling as she reached her peak, her orgasm taking her over the edge. She came hard on my finger, her cries of ecstasy music to my ears, while her tongue and chest were still coated in my cum.

“Good girl,” I praised her, the pride in my voice unmistakable. “You did so good.”

I tossed the phone away somewhere and laid down next to her. I traced the lines of ecstasy on her flushed skin, watching as she slowly calmed from the high. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her dark hair a wild contrast against the pale fabric of the pillow beneath her head.

“Are you okay?” I asked, needing to hear it from her, my concern genuine. There was a fine line between pleasure and pain, and I walked it carefully with her. Especially when she was pregnant with my babies.

“More than okay,” she replied with a small smile, her sharp wit momentarily muted by the intensity of our encounter.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I suggested, sliding an arm under her to lift her gently. Our midday tryst had left us both spent and hungry for more than just each other. But as we stood, our bodies still close, I knew that whatever hunger gnawed at us, it went far beyond the physical. It was a craving for connection, for the vulnerability we found in each other’s arms—a dangerous desire in our world, yet one neither of us could deny.

If either of us knew what was coming next, we would have probably never left that fucking room.

Chapter Thirteen: Tristan

Before the sun even thought to peek over the horizon, I was staring out the window of our safe house. The city below lay hushed and unsuspecting, a stark reminder that calm can be the most deceitful façade. My mind churned with the weight of treachery concealed within my own ranks, an acidic burn in my gut that hadn’t settled since…my dad had died? I had turned Adriana down? I’d found out she was pregnant?

At this point, I had no idea.

Adriana slept soundly, unaware of me getting up and looking out the window.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Kieran’s head popped around the corner, his face ashen in the predawn gloom. “We need to talk,” he murmured.

I glanced back at Adriana, her chest rising and falling evenly in sleep. Trust had never come easy for her, but she’d earned her place by my side. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of her.”

Adriana seemed to sense we were talking about her, because she sat up and yawned. “Good morning to you, too,” she said, a little too happily.

Kieran hesitated but then stepped inside, the ghost of daylight spilling across the floorboards behind him. “There’s been movement—unusual activity from our own people. It smells like betrayal, Tristan.”

The word snaked through the room, settling between us with the heaviness of impending doom.

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