Page 41 of Cruel Heir

Andre kisses a trail between my breasts, one hand slipping beneath the silky fabric to brush his thumb over my stiffening nipple. I feel him groan against my skin, his mouth drifting to trace along the small curve of one breast, his tongue trailing a line up to replace his thumb, and I arch up into his mouth. His teeth graze over my nipple, sucking it into his mouth, and I hear myself moan.

My hand slides into his hair, my hips squirming beneath him, my pulse fluttering in my throat. Up until this past week, he’d fucked me every day since I came here—sometimes more than that—and I can feel that the days without it have intensified the ache spreading through me. I was supposed to begladfor the reprieve, but all I feel is a growing need, my legs tangling around his as I pull him closer.

He reaches up, undoing the clasps of the dress at my shoulders. “I want this off of you,” he growls, his voice rasping with desire as he pulls the fabric aside, sliding it off of me until I’m bare against the fur of the rug. It rubs sensually against my skin, adding to the pleasure as he kisses his way down, his hands settling on my hips as he moves to lie between my thighs.

“Andre—” I stop just short of whisperingplease, just as his mouth skims over one hipbone, his tongue drawing a hot line between them as I feel myself clench with anticipation. It feels hard to believe that not all that long ago, I didn’t even know this was a possibility. I never even imagined how it might feel for a man to put his mouth between my legs, and now I can feel myself tensing with anticipation as Andreslides lower still, his mouth hovering over my damp folds as he breathes in.

“So wet for me,” he murmurs. Then I cry out as he slides his tongue between my folds, from my entrance up to my clit, in one long lick that leaves me trembling, my hips arching upwards for more as he holds me down against the fur and starts to swirl his tongue.

He knows exactly where I want him the most, exactly where to flutter the tip of his tongue, alternating with long, slow licks that leave me gasping. My thighs are splayed open for him, my entire body surrendered to the waves of exquisite pleasure that ripple through me as he licks and sucks, drawing my clit into his mouth as he flutters his tongue again—and I come apart at the seams.

I feel my back arch, my hands clawing at the fur as I grind against his tongue, moaning his name. One hand slides into his hair, holding his mouth against me, and I feel more than hear his low laugh as he keeps going, dragging the orgasm out until the room is spinning, and I feel as if I can’t breathe. Every muscle goes tight, my hips bucking as I come hard on his face, and he doesn’t stop until I sag back against the furs, panting as he rises up to his knees. His lips are damp with my arousal, his eyes dark with lust, and I’ve forgotten about anything other than how badly I want him inside of me.

“As soon as I saw that lipstick,” he rasps, “I wanted your mouth on my cock,principessa. But now I don’t think I can wait to fuck you.”

He frees his cock, hard and thick and long, and I arch upwards without thinking, aching for it. I see the smirk that spreads across Andre’s face and watch with delirious need as his hand wraps around his shaft, stroking downwards as he pushes his pants down his hips and kicks them aside. He leans forward, kissing me again, and I taste myself on his mouth as the swollen head of his cock slides between my folds, nudging inside of me as I moan.

“That’s it,principessa,” he murmurs. “Make that sound for me again.”

When he slides into me, it feels different than it ever has before. It feels slow, almost sweet, inch by inch as he slides his hands down my waist to my hips, his mouth pressed against mine. I hear him groan asI clench around him, pulling him deeper, the ache inside of me spreading as I feel him fill me up. I forget everything other than how good he feels, sliding into me as he presses me back into the fur rug, the fireplace crackling next to us. I feel as if I’ve slipped into some other world.

“God, you feel so good.” His mouth grazes over mine again, his hips grinding against me. “Nothing has ever felt so good.” His breath comes in short, quick pants as he drags his lips down my throat, sucking at the spot where he bit me in the shower; the bruise faded now. I feel his hard, muscular chest pressed against mine, my nipples rubbing against his skin with every thrust, sending shocks of pleasure through me that only add to the sensation. He’s right—it’s good, so good that I find myself thinking,please don’t stop, don’t stop. I can feel the pleasure unfurling through me, that tight pressure so close to releasing, and when he speeds up, driving himself deeper and harder, I feel myself tip over the edge.

“Andre!” I gasp his name, my hands grabbing for his arms, nails biting into his flesh as I feel myself come hard, writhing on his cock as I arch and buck underneath him. The pleasure floods through me, a steady pulse of sensation that makes me cry out again and again, forgetting who might be able to hear us, forgetting that anyone could walk in. A part of me thinks that Ilikethat, that the possibility of getting caught somehow only makes it better, and another burst of sensation tears through me at the thought, prolonging my climax. I feel Andre shudder against me, groaning, feel the quick jolt of his hips as he loses his rhythm for a moment, his body tensing above mine. I open my eyes in time to see the hard flex of his muscles, the way his face goes taut as he groans my name, his hand turning my mouth against his as he kisses me hard once more.

“Lucia—” The sound of it ripples through me as he thrusts deeply into me, filling me with that hot flood of his release as he holds me down against the fur, his tongue tangling with mine. For the first time, I realize dimly as his climax follows mine, filling me as he moans against my lips, this didn’t feel like something he was doingtome. It felt like something we were doing together.

I should push him off of me. I should be angry. I should get up, grab my dress and go back to my room, now that he’s had what he wants. But he doesn’t let go of me. He stays there for a moment, still buried inside of me, and then he slips out, rolling to one side as his arm goes around my waist.

I freeze. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up to what’s happening as Andre pulls me against him, his body curled around mine on the fur rug. His breathing is slow and even, his head next to mine, and it feels so warm and comfortable that I find myself relaxing into the embrace.

Every other night, as soon as Andre is finished, he rolls over and ignores me—a clear sign for me to get my things and go back to my own room. He doesn’t touch me afterward. There’s nocuddling. But for the first time, he doesn’t seem to want to let go of me.

And no matter how loudly my mind shouts at me to fight back, to tell him this is unacceptable, that it has nothing to do with what he wants from me and is certainly not what I want from him—I can’t seem to make myself move or speak.

I feel soft and languorous, exhausted from pleasure, the warmth of his body, and the crackling fire luring me in. I’m dimly aware that we’re both naked still, but it doesn’t seem all that important. His arm feels heavy over my stomach, his fingers idly tracing my hip in a slow brush of skin on skin that finally goes still as I feel him falling asleep.

I’ll wake him up in a minute,I tell myself, leaning into the curve of his body, closing my eyes.And I’ll go upstairs. We can’t fall asleep like this.

When I open my eyes again, the sun is shining through the living room windows, and the fire has almost gone out. The room is still warm enough that I’m not freezing—the fireplace is aesthetic, not for actually heating the mansion—but I hardly notice. I’m still curled against Andre, his head pillowed on my shoulder, and I realize with a sort of dim horror that we fell asleep together on the rug.

It’s sweet. It’s romantic. And it’s the kind of thing that should never have happened between us.

“Andre.” I push at his shoulder, and his eyes flicker open, a lighterblue in the bright sunlight. “Someone is going to come in and see us.” Something twitches, hard and solid against my thigh, and I grit my teeth against the answering pulse between my legs. “We should—”

“We fell asleep.” His voice is raspy first thing in the morning—something else I didn’t know about him before, another small intimacy.

“Well, yes—”

Andre’s hand is still resting on my hip. He drags his palm over the flat of my stomach, over to my other hip as he turns me on my side, facing away from him. His cock nudges between my thighs, pushing against me, and I twist my head to look back at him.

“Andre—”

“It won’t take long.” His mouth presses into the crook of my neck as he slips inside of me—far too easily for my protests—and I gasp. “God, every time I’m near you, you make me need to come,principessa. I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until I fucked you.”

His hand slides around my thigh, fingers finding my clit as he thrusts into me, and I close my eyes.Surely, no one will come in. They’ll hear what’s happening as soon as they get close to the door.The thought makes my face flush, but if anything, it only increases the pleasure as Andre rocks against me, his groans vibrating against my skin.

He’s learned exactly how to make me come. I’m on the edge in a matter of moments, arching back against him as he strokes between my legs, and I feel myself starting to shudder with pleasure as Andre thrusts into me once more, filling me. I turn my face into the fur rug, muffling the moans as I come, and I feel Andre’s teeth graze my shoulder, his hand gripping the side of my hip hard.

---