Page 76 of Obsessed Heir

My heart hammers against my rib cage.

He takes another step, no less menacing, his bare feet silent on the carpet.

I should backpedal and go to my room. Why did I leave? I should lock the door and stay there for the remainder of the trip.

I can’t move. I’m frozen in place as he comes closer, a predator closing in on his prey.

I should tell him I’m merely passing through. That I want to see if the other clothes are still in that bedroom.

No, I should probably come up with an excuse that doesn’t include me being all but naked.

Would he even care? Would he want me to explain why I’m here, at this hour, wearing little more than a robe?

He’s an arm’s length away now. Close enough the heat of his body is washing over me. The intensity in his eyes keeps me from taking a step.

I part my lips to speak, to say anything and not just stand here, my mouth watering at the view. I know words…but I can’t think of a single one as he cups my face. My breath catches in my throat, snatching every thought from my mind.

His head lowers toward me. I can barely breathe as his hand threads into my hair, holding me in place. His lips take mine in a hard, punishing kiss. It feels like the whole weight of him is coming down on me. Hate, frustration, anger…all of it poured into this unexpected, demanding kiss.

I should be terrified, pushing him away and running for the safety of my room.

But I don’t.

And I’m not.

The tingling starts alongside my temples. It’s slight, at first, but all the more fascinating as it whispers down my neck, flowing across my body. It’s an odd sensation, with my brain trying to send a message the rest of me chooses to ignore.

The kiss softens, the pressure turning more pleasurable as his tongue delves into my mouth.

The faint buzz is growing stronger with each passing second. He’s holding back. I sense a flash of wildness lurking beneath the surface, something I’ve never experienced. Something I want more of, despite the warning bells going off in my head.

My hand is clutching at his elbow, grazing his biceps. I intended to stop him, to put an end to this madness. Instead, I find myself spreading my fingers, discovering the steel bunched under his skin, needing to touch more of him.

He slides his hand down, following the shape of my neck until it’s molded right under my chin. Tilting my head, he gives himself better access.

I’m on tiptoe, adjusting to his height as much as I can. Opening my lips, I offer him more. He responds with a rumble deep in his throat, a sound of pure male satisfaction that sends a shiver down my body.

I clench my thighs together, trying to keep the pulse beating between them from getting out of control. The pressure at my waist releases. A wave of cool air sweeps over my chest as his palm sears a path along my hip, his fingers curling into my skin, pulling me close.

The towel presses into me, the warmth of the terry cloth seeping through the thin material. He leans in, throwing me off-balance until the wall comes in to support me.

His teeth close around my bottom lip, nipping at the sensitive flesh while he adjusts. The towel slips past my knee, then he returns, his shaft pressing into my belly. The length alone should be enough to make me wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

He pushes the robe off my shoulders, all but baring me in front of him. His hands cover my body, kneading my breasts, cupping my ass, reminding me of what happened on that couch. How wet he made me. How hot. How hard he made me come just using his fingers.

I can hardly breathe. My nipples are buzzing with awareness, the sensitive buds rubbing against his chest as he crushes me against him. There’s practically nothing between us, and I’m intoxicated by the assault on my senses.

His mouth is at my neck, lips trailing hot kisses along the column of my throat. His teeth scrape against my skin as he makes his way to my shoulder. He slides his hands down to my thighs, lifting me off the floor. I instinctively wrap my legs around him.

He wrenches the thin cotton, baring my breast. His mouth closes on my nipple, the hot, wet suction drawing a blot of pure pleasure straight from my core. I arch into him, my fingers tangling into his damp hair, silently begging for more.

Anticipation rushes through me, leaving me trembling with need as he holds me steady. He’s going to touch me again, where I’m aching for him, needing him to fill me. His fingers move through my folds, my body shuddering from the experience.

Even through the fog of lust, I know it’s his cock pressing into me. The tiny sliver of conscious thought that’s still hanging on pushes for me to put a stop to this before it goes too far.

My lips part, ready to speak up, but the words don’t come out. Instead, my hips shift as I take him deep within me in one hard thrust.

Pain shoots through me, sharp and intense. My head jerks back against the wall, my nails digging into his shoulders. I bite down on my lip, trying my best to smother the scream bubbling up my throat as my pussy stretches to accommodate his size.

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