Page 39 of The Cruel Heir
A satisfied smirktugged at my lips. She was running again, but I didn’t chase. Not this time. I wanted her to stew in the aftermathof what I’d done, to lie in bed with her thighs sticky from my fingers, and her body aching with the reminder of who truly owned her.
My mother’s voice pulled me back into the present. “You shouldn’t toy with her so much, Sterling. She’s sensitive.” Her wine glass clinked against the crystal stemware, the faint ring sharp in the hush of the dining room, as she swirled the deep red liquid, her amusement thinly veiled.
I dragged my napkin across my lips, wiping away the ghost of Zara’s taste. “She’s mine. I’ll handle her as I see fit.”
John, my new stepfather, stiffened at the head of the table, his silverware pausing midair. His hawkish eyes narrowed in warning, but he didn’t speak. He knew better. Whatever power he thought he held in this house was nothing more than a borrowed delusion.
I stood, my chair scraping against the marble floor, as I pushed back from the table. “Excuse me.”
No one dared stop me as I left the dining hall, my steps measured, controlled. A stark contrast to the rage curling in my gut.
Upstairs, her scent hit me the second I reached our door. A mix of vanilla and something warmer, muskier. It was intoxicating, a scent I wanted to drown in. My body reacted instantly, my cock thickening beneath my slacks, but it wasn’t just lust clawing at me. It was something deeper, something raw, that I wasn’t ready to name. I wanted to see her, touch her, keep her where I could watch every expression flicker across her face.
I didn’t knock. I never did. I pushed the door open, stepping inside just as she turned toward me, her wide eyes flashing with fury. But beneath that, I saw something else, uncertainty, maybe even anticipation. She would never admit it, but she felt this too. The push and pull, the heat smoldering between us like a lit fuse, daring me to set it ablaze.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, gripping the edges of her robe, as if that flimsy fabric could protect her from me.
I closed the door behind me, locking it with an audible click. “You ran from me.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Maybe because you humiliated me at the table?”
I took a slow step forward, drinking in the way she tensed, the way her breath hitched. “You didn’t seem so humiliated when you were soaking my fingers, little hummingbird.”
Her nostrils flared, her cheeks burning with shame. “You’re disgusting.”
I smiled, dark and wicked. “And yet, you let me touch you. You let me make you come, with our parents sitting not five feet away.”
She turned her back on me, her hands tightening into fists. A mistake.
I was behind her in two strides, my hand wrapping around her throat as I pressed my body against hers. She went rigid, her breath shuddering as my grip flexed, just enough to remind her of the power I held.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, Zara,” I murmured against the shell of her ear. “But your body? It fucking knows who it belongs to.”
She trembled, her pulse thudding against my palm. “Let me go.”
I exhaled slowly, drinking in the way her voice wavered. She wanted me to stop. But not really. Not deep down where it mattered. I loosened my grip, my fingers tracing down the curve of her neck, before I stepped back, granting her space.
She sucked in a breath, spinning to face me. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m just going to let you control me.”
I smirked. “You think you have a choice?”
Her eyes blazed, but this time, there was something else; resolve. “You’ve bullied me for years, Sterling,” she said, her voice steady now. “You humiliate me in front of our parents, control me at every turn, and now you think I’ll just fall in line?”
I tilted my head, my smirk never wavering. “You already have.”
She scoffed, taking a step back, but her voice didn’t waver. “You’ve never even kissed me, Sterling, never given me a moment where I could choose you back.”
That stopped me.
“You act like you own me, but you haven’t kissed me, Sterling. Not once. If you were serious, if you wanted me the way you claim, wouldn’t that be the first thing you’d do?”
I took another step forward, but she raised her chin, her gaze defiant. “You’re not serious. You just like the game. Because if you were serious, you’d realize how much damage this would cause. You’d see that this would destroy everything. The Family, the image, the business, everything you’re trying so hard to control.”
My fingers twitched at my side, but she wasn’t finished. “And I won’t be the one to rock the boat,” she murmured. “You want to push me, but you won’t risk taking that irrevocable step. Because deep down, you know I’d be the end of you.”
Her words sank into the silence between us, a challenge laced with something darker. Something that made my blood heat in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge.
A slow smirk curved my lips. “You ran before I could ask you to dance with me, Zara.”
