Page 9 of The Cruel Heir
“Stay still, or I’ll make you cry harder,” I warned.
She froze.
And I devoured her.
Beard scraping. Tongue deep. I sucked her clit into my mouth, and didn’t let go. I licked until her thighs shook, until every breath she took became a war between resistance and need.
My cock twitched, wanting to shove deep inside of her. To get the itch of her from beneath my skin.
“Sterling,” she whimpered. “Please-”
“Tell me you want this,” I growled, relishing in her begging.
I paused, waiting for her to say what I wanted to hear. What her body was showing me it needed. That she wanted me. That she chose me.
She was still fighting it, shaking her head.
“You’re soaked, hummingbird. That mouth lies better than your body,” I said, looking at the signs of her want. I held myself back from touching her more. Not until she gave in.
“One word, Zara.” I pushed her over the brink. “Say it and I’ll ruin you, my sweet.”
Her voice broke finally, as she whimpered the word I wanted to hear. “Yes.”
I could hear her sobs, but they didn’t stop me from shoving deep inside of her. Claiming her as my own.
She screamed, and I grinned, pressing her hips deeper into the metal.
“Tight,” I grunted. “Like you’ve been waiting.” Her pussy squelched.
I slammed into her harder and harder.
“Fuck, little hummingbird. Take it. Take all of me,” I grunted, my mind gone, as I heard her cries of pleasure.
“Please,” she gasped.
Everything else was cut off from the scream caught in her throat. I slapped her ass. This was all I’d ever wanted, and like a present, here she was, offering it to me.
She cried out again, and I shuddered from her noises. They could make me come alone.
“Stay still, or I’ll make you cry harder,” I warned her. I was on the edge. She needed to learn her place was beneath me. She was my queen. I would give her everything.
She always had to learn the hard way. She whimpered, squirming, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. And, God help me, I wasn’t about to let her go now.
She tried wiggling away from me again.
“Sterling,” she whimpered. “Please-”
I couldn’t help speeding up my punishing strokes, slamming into her with a vengeance, for her choices.
She sobbed, but her hips were rocking against me, urging me on.
I lost it inside of her. Every doubt. Every wish. Every hope, I poured inside of her body, hoping it bore fruit. I wanted to brand her so deeply she would never choose another.
I would be the last man inside of her.
“You were made for this,” I praised, too far gone to stop the worshipping tone in my voice. “Made for me.”
My cock slid home, and I growled my pleasure, grabbing ahold of the sides of the dryer, in order to thrust deeper. She should be savored, but I was too lost, from her body accepting me, to stop.
