Page 14 of The Heir's Defiance

My palms are instantly sweaty, tongue clinging to the roof of my mouth. I feel nervous, but I can't put my finger on why. It isn't like this is my first time, but it's definitely the first time I have openly defied my father in such a dangerous world.

I need a drink.

Without a word, I move to the kitchen and open a bottle of whiskey I find in the cabinet. There are two short glasses—thin, cheap crystal, but they’ll do. I pour for both of us, neat.

He takes the one I offer, and I don’t wait to see if he drinks it. I turn and walk toward the bedroom.

He follows, slower than I expect. At the threshold, I pause, glass still in hand.

"Is this… what I think it is?" I ask, not quite meeting his eyes. My voice is too steady to sound nervous, but I feel it low in my gut.

He doesn't play dumb. "Yeah. It is."

My breath catches, not out of fear but something else. Something sharper.

"You think this is smart?" I ask.

He takes a step closer. "No. But I think it’s inevitable."

His voice is low, smooth enough to unravel me. "You and me—we’ve got fire. You feel it. I do too. Why fight it when we could burn together?"

I don't answer with words. I shift my weight, eyes dragging over the sharp lines of his jaw, the way he’s watching me like he already knows what I’ll decide.

"You always talk this much when you’re about to make a mistake?" I murmur.

"Only when I’m hoping it won’t be one," he says.

Then he sets his glass down on the dresser, takes the last step between us, and kisses me—slowly and unapologetically.

I let him.

I can't resist him. His tongue glides over mine, and I feel it between my legs, hot and electric. I bring my hands to his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly as the kiss deepens. He needs no further invitation. His hands slide to my ass, forcing my body against his, and I can feel how hard he is. I moan into his mouth, and now I'm the one who can't stop.

He breaks the kiss, but only for a second before his lips trail down my jawline, leaving fire in their wake. He cups my ass, lifts me up onto the edge of the dresser, and in one fluid movement, he pushes up my skirt, baring my lower half. His hands slide up my thighs, and he hooks two fingers around my panties on each hip and tugs them until they’re around my knees.

"You understand the rules, Nora," he says, his voice low and rough against my ear. "I'm not here to play nice. I'm here to make you beg."

I gasp in anticipation, my core aching for him. "Then do it," I dare him, spreading my legs farther apart, revealing myself. My panties drop to my ankles and I kick them off, and my heart thuds against my ribcage as I wait for his next move.

He doesn't disappoint. Connor's hand comes down hard on my right cheek with a resounding smack. The sting shoots through me, both painful and electrifying. My core spasms, and I letout a moan that's half-pain, half-pleasure, but I don't ask him to stop. No, God help me, I don't want him to stop. His dominance ignites something inside me I didn’t know was there—an animalistic hunger for more.

"You like that, huh?" he growls, giving me no time to answer before his other hand smacks me again, but I’m biting my lip, nodding as he does it, and then his mouth covers mine again.

My hands work the zip of his coat, undoing it. Then I slide it off his shoulders.

Connor tears his hands away from mine as I slide the coat down his arms, then he unbuttons one button at the top of his shirt, using a single hand to pull it off over his head.

His eyes narrow, but their intensity doesn’t falter. He slides a hand between my legs and I moan openly. "Wet for me?" he purrs. My cheeks burn, but I don't deny it. "Oh, feck, you are," he growls, his voice ragged with lust. "You're so damn wet for me."

I can't help it. I grind against his hand, and he growls—a primal, guttural sound that makes me shiver. His other hand slides around my neck, tip of his thumb pressed just below my jaw as his mouth meets mine again, hot and greedy, devouring me whole. His erection presses insistently against my knee as he grinds into me, and I whimper into his mouth. I want his pants off and his cock inside me.

His grip tightens around my neck, not enough to hurt but just enough to make me know he’s in charge. "Tell me you want it," he growls against my lips.

I glare at him through half-lidded eyes, but the truth is, I've never been more turned on in my life. “Are you fecking kiddingme? I’m blackmailing one of my father’s men to be here. If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t have picked up that call.”

Connor uses that as consent and bites my lip hard. I grab his belt buckle and yank it open, pushing his jeans and boxers down over his ass. His rock-hard dick springs free and stands proudly, and I feel my chest tighten. He’s massive—like huge. I’ve never seen a dick so big.

“Condom,” I mumble, and either he doesn’t hear me or he doesn’t care. He strokes himself, and I watch while mumbling, “Condom…” again.

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