Page 21 of Cruel Heir

“It only turns me on more when you fight, Lucia,” he murmurs as he crosses the hall into the bedroom where I stayed last night, setting me down as soon as we’re inside with the door closed. “I would have thought you would have figured that out by now.”

He’s not lying. I can see the thick outline of his cock straining to be freed, as he strips off his shirt, his hand going to his belt. I can’t take my eyes off of his muscled chest and arms, inked with tattoos, the soft blond hair trailing down to his trousers as he steps forward and grasps my t-shirt, dragging it over my head with one quick motion.

“My pretty wife.” He shoves my pajama pants down with the other hand, together with my panties, leaving me bare in a matter of seconds. “Are you going to lie on the bed for me, or do I have to make you doeverything?”

I grit my teeth, refusing to give in. The moment I do, I’m afraid I’ll be lost entirely. The moment I let him have me, instead of fighting as long as I can. He backs me towards the bed, his hand going to my waist, his fingers finding their way between my thighs as he drags them along my pussy, laughing darkly when he finds out that I’m already damp for him.

“Your pretense is getting thinner,principessa,” Andre murmurs,lifting me onto the bed. He follows me immediately, spreading my legs with a quick nudge of his knee, his hand fisting around his cock as he guides it to my entrance. “Let me feel you around me, and then I’ll decide if I’ll allow you to come.”

I tell myself not to enjoy it. But it feels so fucking good. His cock, stretching me open, filling me up as he thrusts into me, his handsome face above mine as his blond hair falls around it. His muscles flex with every thrust, the tight clench of his jaw as his face goes taut with pleasure, his pelvis grinding against my clit every time he drives himself into me. I can’t help how it feels, can’t help the bliss that spreads through me, and I feel my clit throb with every brush of his skin against me, the pleasure building and building until I know I’m going to come.

I can’t stop it, not even when I see the victorious smile on his face, and I know that he still pushed me over the edge on purpose, wanting to make me lose control.

If this is a war between us, Andre has won another battle.

Afterward, he rolls off of me, breathing hard, his skin faintly glistening with sweat. I find myself wishing that he was uglier, older, that he didn’t look like the kind of man that I would, in other circumstances, have begged my father to let me marry. Lying there naked next to me, his hair tousled around his sharply chiseled face and his muscled body gleaming, his cock still large, even half-softened, he looks like a sculpture of a god.

“I’m going back to my room.” I sit up, and he doesn’t stop me this time. He watches me as I get up, thighs pressed together so I don’t have to hear him chastise me for not doing my best to make sure it all stays inside, and scoop my clothes up off of the floor. I slip them back on, and I wait for him to say something, but he’s entirely silent as I slip out of the room and back into mine.

I can’t take a shower—he’ll hear, and be angry with me. Instead, I go to the bathroom and do my best to clean up, wadding up the tissues and shoving them in the trash so that he won’t hear the toilet flush. I toss my now damp pajamas into the laundry hamper and slip into fresh sleep clothes, burrowing under my blanket as I close myeyes and try to be grateful that, at least, I don’t have to sleep next to him.

I close my eyes and hope that, at this very moment, Celeste is doing her best to get a message out for me.

It’s the only hope I have of getting out of here.

8

ANDRE

Iwondered how long it would take before Fontana realized I was gone, before he made some effort to track me down. I wondered if he would put my escape and the disappearance of his daughter together. He’s a smart and canny man—he couldn’t have risen to his position without those traits—and I expected he might connect those dots eventually.

I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

I get two peaceful nights with my wife—or at least, as peaceful as nights can be with a wife who doesn’t want the marriage she’s been forced into. I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’m enjoying fucking Lucia a littletoomuch. I know that the pleasure I’m taking in making her enjoy it as well is wholly unnecessary, that making her marry me and bear my child is revenge enough. But it’s become almost addictive from the moment I first touched her. I hadn’t expected her to be so responsive, for her to have so much difficulty fighting her own desires. She wants me every bit as much as I want her, and the rush of power that comes from making her desire me is intoxicating.

We’re having dinner on the third night when I hear the chaos outside. I hear shouts from across the mansion, and then more on theother side of the windows that face out towards the garden, as if there’s some commotion coming from the side of the house. I get up instantly, tossing my napkin onto the table and reaching for Lucia’s arm.

“What’s going on?” She sounds genuinely frightened, but I’m not sure that I believe her. If someone is attacking the house, it’s almost certainly men that her father has sent. And for him to have found out where she is so quickly, I feel sure that she must have had some hand in it.

“I’m not sure. But I’m going to find out—as soon as I know you’re safely tucked away.” I march her out of the dining room, my hand hard on her upper arm, not bothering to be gentle. There’s a sharpcrackfrom the side of the house, a sound that I know is a gunshot, but Lucia shies away to one side, her eyes going wide.

“What was that?” she gasps, and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at her.

“Sheltered little mafiaprincipessa.” I unlock the door to my study, pushing her inside. “You don’t know a gunshot when you hear one?”

Her mouth drops open. “A gunshot? What—”

“Don’t play so innocent.” I point to one of the chairs in front of the fire. “Sit down and stay in here—not that you can do otherwise; I’m going to lock the door. Don’t touch anything you shouldn’t; I’ll know if you do. Although I don’t need to worry about that much either—most of the drawers and such are locked.”

I step back before Lucia can say another word, ignoring the shocked look on her face, and lock the door behind me. I’ll deal with her once I’m sure the house is secured.

Three of my security team are already coming down the hall as I tuck the key away. One hands me a gun without my having to ask, his expression grim. There’s another sharpcrackfrom outside, and I grit my teeth.

“Fontana’s men?” I ask, and the man in front—Antoni—frowns.

“Hard to say. I can’t imagine who else would be out here causing a ruckus. Don’t think many of the other families even know you’re here.”

“And they’re firing at the house?”

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