Page 70 of Blood Heir

I capture her hands, bringing them above her head, pinning them softly to the mattress. She yields so easily, trusting me, giving herself over entirely.

“You’re safe,” I whisper against her skin.

Her eyes flutter closed, her body arching slightly as I trail kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, until my mouth reaches the soft swell of her breasts. I take my time, dragging my tongue around one hardened nipple before pulling it into my mouth, sucking gently, savoring the way her breath catches beneath me.

A soft, shaky moan escapes her lips. She arches again, pressing herself closer, silently begging for more. I release her breast only to take the other, giving it the same worship, my tongue teasing, my lips soft yet insistent, until she’s squirming under me, her skin flushed and hot.

I move back up to kiss her mouth, and this time I devour her—deep, tasting her, breathing her in. She whimpers softly into my kiss, her fingers twitching where I hold them above her head.

I part her legs gently, guiding my hips forward as I press against her entrance. She’s so warm, so soft—slick already, her arousal coating my tip as I ease inside. The wet heat of her wraps around me instantly, tight and silky, gripping me as if she never wants to let me go. My breath stutters in my chest, the sensation overwhelming, almost too good, like stepping into something forbidden and perfect all at once. Her body takes me so sweetly, stretching to fit me, wet and yielding, her breath trembling against my neck as I fill her.

She smells intoxicating—warm skin, soft feminine musk, mixed with the faintest sweetness of her shampoo. That scent fills my lungs, coils around my brain, and drives every coherentthought from my mind. All I know is her—her taste, her smell, her trembling body wrapped around me.

Her fingers clutch at my back, nails grazing my skin lightly as I bottom out inside her, buried completely. The feel of her walls pulsing gently around me, slick and tight, sends a deep pulse of pleasure through my core. It’s a perfect, velvet pressure, holding me snug with every slow movement.

I gather her into my arms, holding her close as I begin to move—long, slow thrusts, savoring every glide of her wet heat stroking my length. The friction is exquisite, gliding smoothly while still hugging me tightly, her body clinging to me with every inch I take.

Her moans turn breathy, little gasps against my ear as her hips rock in rhythm with mine. The slick sound of our bodies moving together fills the air, a wet melody that draws me deeper into her. My hands slide down her back, feeling the curve of her waist, the soft skin beneath my fingertips so warm, so alive.

Her scent wraps around me again—warm, heady, aroused—as I kiss her forehead softly, feeling her body tremble with each thrust.

She clings tighter, breath catching as my cock sinks deeper, her slick walls fluttering and tightening around me with every movement. The pleasure builds, a consuming fire, and I know neither of us wants to break the moment—we want to stay locked together like this for as long as we can.

The wet heat of her body clings to my length as I glide in and out, her slickness coating me, making every stroke feel like sliding through warm silk.

Her breath turns ragged, tiny whimpers escaping her lips. She clings tighter, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me even closer, desperate for more of my body againsthers. I feel her teeth graze my shoulder—a tentative nip at first, but as I sink deeper, her bite grows firmer, as if she’s trying to ground herself against the overwhelming pleasure.

The sting of her teeth only fuels the fire burning inside me. My hands tighten around her waist, fingers sinking into the softness of her skin, steadying her as I continue my deep thrusts.

Her walls pulse around me as I drag myself out almost to the tip, then push back inside her tight heat, savoring how she stretches to take me. The wet glide of her arousal coats me with every movement, the sound of our bodies a soft, rhythmic slapping in the quiet air.

She gasps again, biting harder into my shoulder as I thrust deep, my cock pressing against every sensitive spot inside her. Her breath hitches, her nails scraping lightly across my back as she moans against my skin.

“I want to see you,” I whisper.

Slowly, I roll us over, keeping myself buried inside her as she straddles my hips now. She steadies herself, her hands splayed across my chest, thighs trembling slightly as she adjusts to the new angle, still breathless and flushed.

Her eyes meet mine, wide and shining, lips parted as if she can’t quite catch her breath. I slide my hands up along her bare thighs, gripping them gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my palms.

“Move for me,” I say softly, my voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

She starts to rock her hips, slow at first—testing, savoring. My hands glide to her waist again, guiding her as she grinds down, her slick heat swallowing me over and over. I let my headfall back for a moment, letting the sensation of her riding me wash through every nerve ending.

The sight of her above me is enough to unravel me—her flushed cheeks, the soft bounce of her breasts, her hair falling forward, framing her face like silk. I reach up, parting her hair gently, tucking it behind her ear so I can see her completely.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmur, lifting my head to catch her mouth in another kiss—deep, tasting the sweet breath that escapes her lips between moans.

Her hips roll faster, her breath quickening. I grip her thighs tighter, holding her steady as she rides me, her wet heat milking me with every movement. She gasps into my mouth, her voice breaking with every upward rock of her hips.

The warmth of her, the tight slick grip of her body wrapped around my cock—it’s everything. My hands roam up her back, pulling her closer, our bodies pressed chest to chest as I thrust up gently into her, meeting every grind with my own slow push.

Our moans melt together, the air thick with the sound of skin on skin, wet and warm and perfect.

We’re both naked when it’s over. The room smells like sweat and desperation. She’s lying beside me, hair a mess, strands sticking to her damp forehead. Her chest rises and falls quickly, red flush creeping all the way up her neck, settling on her cheeks. Her eyes dart toward me, and I don’t bother hiding the grin tugging at my mouth.

Her voice snaps at me, sharp as always. “The fuck are you smiling at?”

I chuckle, pulling her closer by the waist before she can pull away. She pretends to resist, tensing for a moment, but she doesn’t mean it. My hand strokes the curve of her back, steady.

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