Page 33 of Brutal Heir

She doesn’t wake up as I set my knee between hers, climbing on top of her and pushing her legs apart to settle between her inviting thighs. Despite her being unconscious, finding her pussy bare sends a rush of blood to my already hard cock,making me ache for her even more. It’s something that’ll flash into my mind over and over for a long time to come.

I put two fingers into her cleavage then pull down the top. Her breasts are bare, the oversized globes naked for me. Running my hand over the soft skin, I come up to roll her nipple, relishing the way it hardens beneath my touch.

Despite it all, she still doesn’t wake up, but the thrill of the forbidden makes the experience all the more exciting. This is my moment, my chance to explore her body, to feel the heat between us. It’s dangerous, but it’s also intoxicating.

I sink into her body, her pussy offering less resistance than earlier. The slightest noise of pleasure comes from deep in her throat. This isn’t a normal sleep. She’s knocked out hard. Her body’s moving every time I bottom out, but she seems to be oblivious outside of the body’s normal reaction.

Annoyance borders on anger, spurring me on. My thrusts grow harder; the sound of my hips hitting hers fills the room. The sound of my breathing echoes in my ears. Any other time I’d be relishing this moment, but I’m riding the fine line between anger and pleasure at the shit she’s pulled.

My balls tighten, emptying along her inner thigh and pussy as I pull out. I feel nothing toward her, nothing I’d have with a shared experience. That pisses me off more than I could ever imagine.

Done, I climb off her, to my side of the bed. I turn, going up on an elbow. What the fuck is she thinking?

Her cell lights up on the nightstand. Curious, I reach across her and pick up the phone. It’s a notification of a payment, nothing urgent. But having the cell reminds me of the video I asked her for, something she failed to send.

With little remorse, thanks to her current state, I key in the code I saw her enter earlier. After a few taps, her phone unlocks, lighting up the bedcover and my arms. I automatically glance over at Sage, but she’s oblivious. I suppose if taking a cock doesn’t wake her, the light won’t either.

I go straight to the albums and find the video. There it is: Sage in my truck, her arm stretched out to press the record button. I attach it to a message and send it out. A few seconds later, my phone buzzes when the video arrives. Satisfied, I go back and delete the message to myself.

Now that I’m done, I give myself free rein to investigate. Her pictures are from the ranch, the shots she took during the cattle strike, the damage done to a road after the rain, and these types of work pictures going back a couple of years.

She’s also included a bunch of memes she’s got off social media sites. Exercise routines, food, a mixture of desserts and protein shakes, and sunsets. They’re primarily taken at the office, but a few are from the lake, and some at places I don’t recognize.

Out of the thousands of pictures, there’s one with a man and woman, their features familiar enough that I know they’re her parents without having to ask.

The messages don’t have much either. Me, Bill, a guard, another, Elena, guard, guard, guard, Mike, and more things from work. Finally, I come upon a message from “Dad”. I press on the message without bothering to ask for permission.

Hey, pumpkin, we haven’t heard from you. I know you’re dealing with the pain and old enough to look after yourself, but you’re still my little girl. I’m sorry I failed you. I wasn’t there when you needed me most, but don’t take it out on your mother.We love you.

I’m stuck on the word pain. Being that he’s her father, it could be anything from a broken heart to physical pain. But, she’s apparently able to deal with it. It’s still made me curious.

I quickly go to my message and hit the share-location button. Why? I’m not even sure, but I chose to follow my instinct.

Chapter 18

Sage

I wake up to silence and unfamiliar shadows in the corners. The room isn’t permeated with sweat, age, and the stale smell of cigarette smoke. It’s definitely not the dingy old trailer I’ve called home for the past few months. I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from my brain.

The scent of wood and leather are mixed with the unmistakable fragrance of a man. Ezequiel. My blood’s rushing in my veins. I reach out to touch the cool softness of the bed sheets, hoping to find him lying next to me. My heart races as I look around the room, but he’s nowhere to be found. I’m alone.

My inner clock is off. I’m not sure how long I knocked out, but it feels like I might have slept through the night. My mind races to try to piece together the events of the previous night. Did he come to bed? Slowly, I sit up, to have the sheets fall away from my bare breasts. I bring the sheet up, covering myself, before my sleep-muddled brain realizes the cap sleeves on mynightie have slipped down to my shoulders. I pull the sheet away to find the bottom of the nightie up around my hips. Did I have restless sleep?

I have a vague memory of his hands roaming my body. Him kissing my shoulder… But that hasn’t happened…I think. As I try to steady my thoughts, I can feel his presence all around me. It’s his home, his room, and his bed. He’s left a mark on this place, and it’s impossible to ignore.

Memories flood back into my mind. The intense passion, the heat of his breath on my neck, and the desire that consumed me. Yesterday was something else. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. But, did that extend to last night?

I turn to get up, but my body protests, bringing me to a complete stop. I flinch at the stab of pain at my hips and the curve of my butt. I pause, taking a deep breath and allowing myself to take stock of every twinge and adjust before I have to move. To make matters worse, my body burns from the unfamiliar stretch of my inner muscles. He’s bigger than any man I’ve ever been with, and he gave me a run for my money.

I’ve never experienced a day like yesterday.

With a deep breath, I slide over to his side and swing my legs over the edge of the bed then manage to hobble for the first few steps. As I reach the door, I pause, listening for any sounds. I hear the faint humming noise of the air conditioner, but little else.

It’s weird not to hear someone snoring, coughing, or moving around. It’s something I’ve gotten used to with thin walls. This is absolute heaven.

I slowly turn the doorknob and push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. I’m washing my hands when Ifinally hear noise. My reflection in the mirror confirms my hair’s a plastered mess. I quickly turn the water off and reach for the plush hand towel. Scooping my brush up from the top of my bag, I run it through my hair, doing the best I can so he doesn’t find me looking a mess.

There’s a knock on the door, firm, solid, like the man himself. My heart pounds. He came looking for me, and I’m still sore, even though it’s been hours since we were together. I’m just not used to being with a man any more.

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