Page 17 of Cruel Heir

His voice is thick, strangled with pleasure, and I feel an odd sense of satisfaction at the knowledge thatI’mdoing this somehow. I’m not even reallydoinganything, other than sitting in his lap and letting him guide me, but I can feel him coming undone. It occurs to me thatthere’s power in this, that if I played my cards correctly, I might be able to use it to my advantage.

“A few more bites,principessa,” he murmurs, settling me on his lap again as he reaches for the fork again. He feels impossibly hard inside of me, stretching me open, and the fullness alone feels better than I could have imagined. When he slides another bite of sausage between my lips, I let out a soft moan despite myself, the ache between my thighs bordering on unbearable. I’ve never really had the urge to touch myself before, but if we weren’t in the dining room, if I didn’t think I’d be punished for it, I’d be tempted to slide my hand between my thighs and see if I could replicate the sensation of Andre stroking my clit last night.

I know I’m playing right into his hands, literally as well as figuratively, but I don’t know how to stop.

He rocks into me as he feeds me a few more bites, a steady rhythm that leaves me biting back sounds of pleasure, knowing as my cheeks flush hot that if anyone were to walk in, there would be no more pretending that I’m just sitting on my husband’s lap enjoying a meal. I swallow the last bite of syrupy pancake that he feeds me, and then he drops his fork onto the table, grasping my hips as he turns me so that my back is to him, still impaled on his throbbing length. His hand smooths down my back, and he reaches down with his other hand, spreading my legs so that they’re on either side of his as he starts to thrust.

“That’s it,principessa,” he murmurs, leaning me forward just a little as I feel his thick shaft slide in and out of me, gliding through the arousal that’s gathered between my thighs. “You’ve got me ready to come. I’m going to fill you up,dolcezza. So fucking good—”

He groans, thrusting into me hard, hard enough to make me grip the edge of the table as he pushes deeply into me again and again. I close my eyes, willing back the tears of shame, not only because I’m terrified someone will come in and see—but also because I can feel that I’m close to coming, too. That pressure is wound tight, deep in my belly, the ache spreading through me, and I gasp aloud as he thrusts into me once more and lets out a strangledgroan as his cock swells and hardens with the first spurt of his cum.

I can feel him flooding me, hot and thick. He pumps his cock into me again and holds himself there, pulling me back down onto his lap as I feel his teeth sink into my shoulder, more of his cum spurting deeply inside of me. I can feel him throbbing, feel his groan vibrate against my skin, and he wraps one arm around my waist, holding me as close as he possibly can.

“God, you make me come so hard,principessa,” he murmurs against my shoulder, his tongue sliding over the bite mark he left there. “Better than anyone else I’ve fucked.” He kisses my shoulder lightly, the praise and the gentle touch feeling altogether at odds with the violence of what he does to me, and I think for a moment that he’s going to let me go. Iwantto leave, to flee the room, but at the same time, I feel a throb of disappointment that he didn’t make me come. I can feel my clit, swollen and sensitive between my thighs, aching to be touched. I wonder if he would know if I got myself off after, back in my own room alone.

But instead of letting me go, he turns me on his lap so that I’m sitting sideways again, nudging his chair closer to the table. “What are you doing?” I ask with a gasp, squirming on his half-hard cock that’s still buried inside of me in an effort to get away, but Andre holds me still.

“Finishing my breakfast while you keep my cock warm,principessa,” he says with a smirk, reaching for his fork. “I thought it was best if you ate first, and you got me so hard that I couldn’t wait to come. My little vixen of a wife.” He smiles indulgently, as if it wasmethat seducedhiminto fucking me at the breakfast table, stroking my hair away from my face with his free hand. “But now, you’ll sit here while I have mine.”

I stare at him, not entirely able to believe what’s happening. “But—”

He takes a bite and then glances at me as if he’s confused as to what I’m protesting about. “Do you want more,dolcezza? Greedy little girl.”

“No, I just—” I swallow hard, trying to think of how to say that I want to go back to my room without angering him, but he just smirks.

“Oh,” he murmurs, as if purposely misunderstanding me. “I see. I didn’t make you come, did I,principessa? Do you expect to come every time, my spoiled little wife?”

“No.” I glare at him, twisting on his lap, and to my horror, I feel his cock twitch inside of me again, as if the struggle is arousing him a second time. “Andre—”

“I do like how you say my name.” He reaches up, turning my face into his so he can kiss me lightly on the lips. “My pretty, spoiled little bride. One taste of pleasure and she wants to come again.” His tongue slides over my lower lip, and I taste spices and syrup on his mouth, as he smiles almost indulgently into the kiss. “You did make me come so hard. And you still feel good around my cock,dolcezza. I think I can reward you for that.”

His hand slides down my waist before I can protest, lifting my skirt where it’s draped over my thighs, hiding where he’s still buried inside of me. My back is to the door, so no one would be able to see immediately what’s happening, but my face still flushes hot as he pushes the fabric up to my waist, his fingers sliding between my folds to find my engorged clit.

I cry out the moment he touches me. I can’t help it. I’m so sensitive from the teasing, and I look down as he spreads my folds, the sight of my swollen, reddened clit beneath his fingertips only serving to turn me on more. It’s almost as if the utter humiliation turns me on more. The sight of him pleasuring me, the base of his cum-soaked cock visible where he’s still stretching me open even half-hard, makes another gush of arousal coat his cock and fingers, and I hear Andre groan as he takes a bite, twitching inside of me.

His fingers press down, rubbing and circling over my clit, and I close my eyes, moaning again. Andre chuckles, still eating his breakfast as if I’m not helplessly rocking against his hand, on the verge of coming in his lap. “The staff is going to hear you,principessa,” he murmurs teasingly. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, little wife? Grinding on my cock like this where anyone could see you? You’regoing to come all over my fingers, aren’t you? My slutty little bride.” He swallows, turning his mouth to mine again as his fingers speed up. I feel him thicken inside of me, hard all over again, and I let out another helpless, sobbing moan.

“You’ll be more likely to get pregnant this way,” he murmurs, thrusting up into me as he rubs my clit faster. “Did you know that? You’re just helping me achieve everything I want, little bride, by begging for the pleasure I can give you.”

The words hit me like a shock of cold water, but it’s too late—and he knows it. I can see it in the cruel smirk on his face as I tip over the edge, grasping blindly for the table to cling to as I start to come, my pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock as I spasm and cry out. The pleasure tears through me, seizing every muscle in my body as I gush over his fingers and cock, and I hear him groan, his other hand gripping my thigh as he thrusts into me. “You’re going to make me come again,principessa,” he growls. “God, you make me want to keep you here and fuck you all goddamn day.” His mouth finds mine, kissing me hot and hard, his cock swelling as I pulse around him, tight and squeezing as I come hard on his length. “I’m going to fill you up—so fucking full—god—”

Andre’s teeth sink into my lip, vicious enough to draw blood as I feel him flood me with another hot rush of cum, his fingers pinching my clit as he does. The sensation is half pain, half pleasure. I feel the cum leaking out around the base of his cock, more than I can possibly keep inside of me, as the rough friction of his fingers between my thighs pushes me into a second spasm of near-blinding pleasure. I writhe on his lap, clinging to him, crying out as I experience wave after wave of sensation that I never knew I could feel.

I slump against his chest without meaning to, wrung dry from the force of the climax. Andre is breathing hard, his arm around my waist still, his fingers making small circles on my oversensitive clit as I come down from the climax. And just then, as I find the strength to sit up, I hear footsteps.

I twist my head around and see a woman in one of the maids’ uniforms step in, her expression carefully blank. I haven’t seen herbefore, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine that she didn’t hear me moaning for Andre a moment ago, that this looks like anything other than what it is, with both of us flushed and Andre holding me in his lap, his cum still leaking out around his softening cock. My skirt is tangled up around my hips, and I don’t know how much she can see, but that doesn’t matter either. My face burns hot with shame, my eyes welling up with tears.

Last night, I was begging for anyone to help me, to get me out of here. Now I’m begging for my unwanted husband to make me come.What was I thinking? What am I doing? Has he really gotten what he wanted so quickly?

I start to try to scramble out of Andre’s lap, but he holds me tight, refusing to let me go. He looks over my shoulder at the maid, thrusting his hips up against me once more, just to remind me of my place. “We don’t need anything just now,” he says to the maid with a smile, and he pinches my clit again as he speaks, making me cry out despite myself. “I’ll call if I need you.”

I don’t know what expression is on the maid’s face; I can’t bear to look at her. “Of course, sir,” she says tonelessly, and I hear the door close behind her. Andre keeps me pinned on his lap, and then a moment later, he stands up, swinging me into his arms bridal-style again as he holds me against his chest, one arm around my thighs to keep them pinned closed.

“What are you doing?” I push at his chest, but he just laughs.

“Didn’t you understand last night?” He looks down at me, almost amused by my attempts to escape. “You need to lie down after I fuck you, Lucia. This is all very pleasurable for us both, of course, but the real purpose is to get you pregnant. I can’t have all that hard work undone because you want to run around the mansion.” Andre gives me another indulgent smile, a husband placating his spoiled wife. “I’m taking you up to your room.”

“I know how to get there—”

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