Savage Heir by Jagger Cole

22

His hand gripsmy wrist tightly as he pulls me after him. For a second, all I can think about is what if someone sees me? What if someone spots me being led away to God knows where by the snarling Wolf himself.

But suddenly, Ilya is kicking open a side door to the house and pulling me after him into the darkness. Briefly, I turn to let my eyes dart over the party behind us—the lights, the music, the people smiling and drinking.

But then, I turn my head back to him. My skin tingles and my pulse pounds as I willingly—and eagerly—let Ilya pull me into the black night.

“Where are we—”

I gasp as he suddenly yanks me into him, spins us, and slams me back into an ivy-covered stone wall. His hand grips my hip possessively. The other curls to a fist against the wall beside my head.

His face is fierce in the low light of the moon; his lips pulled back in a wolf-like snarl and those green eyes piercing into me.

An onlooker might think this is something sinister. Me, the quivering, panting, red-faced girl with the wide, nervous eyes. And the dark, brooding, tattooed guy with the clenched jaw and predatory glint in his eyes pinning me to a wall, alone in the dark.

But that onlooker would be wrong. I’m nervous, but I’m not scared. I’m out of my element, but I’m not here against my will.

I’m here because I want this. I’m here, alone with him with the heat throbbing in my core, because I want him to take what he wants from me. I want to feel that electric, forbidden pulse of heat I felt before with him.

It’s what I feel every time with him: the mix of so wrong it’s criminal, and so right I can’t say no. The swirling blend of yes and no; of dominance and defiance.

Ilya’s hand tightens on my hip, squeezing as it sends a buzz tingling over my body. His forearm clenches as his fist tightens against the wall next to me. His arm twists, and I gasp quietly as his fingers turn to thread into my hair, tightening.

“What do you want?” I whisper breathlessly.

His eyes narrow. His jaw tightens as he pins me silently to the wall.

“Ilya,” I gasp quietly, shaking. “What do you—”

His mouth crushes to mine, like a viper striking its prey. I tremble at the fierceness of it—at the unbridled lust and heat that radiates off of him as he pins me to the wall with his lips.

He growls thickly as his hands tighten in my hair and on my hip. A moan escapes my lips into his as his mouth opens, his tongue seeking mine. I give it, willingly, trembling against him as he utterly claims my mouth.

My hands slide up to his muscled chest. My fingers curl against his shirt, pulling him into me. Or as if I’m frightened he’ll pull away and this will just be another confusing, heated memory.

He draws back slowly, his teeth dragging over my bottom lip and sending sparks through my core. His hand tightens in my hair, making me gasp in excitement as he tugs my face up to look down into my eyes.

I flush as I feel his hand on my hip start to trace over me. He grips the slinky black dress I borrowed from Charlotte and starts to pull it up. And I let him. He drags the hem up my thighs slowly, higher and higher until I feel the air against my panties.

And I let him.

“Spread your legs,” he snarls into my mouth.

I whimper, moaning as I kiss him back and open my legs for him. His hand slips up the smoothness of my inner thigh, making me shiver and tremble with heat. His fingers trace the lace edge of the panties—the Aleksandra Josef pair he bought me—and he growls quietly.

He knows I’m wearing the risqué lingerie that he bought me. I can almost imagine his ego swelling. But then he drops his mouth to mine, kisses me fiercely, and pins me to the wall with his body. And I feel something else swelling, too.

I blush, trembling with heat. Something big.

His hand slides over the front of my panties, cupping my pussy through the delicate lace. I blush, knowing he can feel how soaking wet I am. But he cups my pussy a little more forcefully and then slowly drags a finger up my seam through the lace.

“Ilya…” I choke, gasping as his finger rolls over my clit.

He deftly pushes the panties to the side. His finger traces back down my slit until he finds my slick opening. He sinks a finger into me, and I moan as I cling to him. His palm rubs against my clit like it did last time, sending sparks through my very core.

“So fucking wet for me,” he growls into my lips.

I whimper, nodding because I don’t know what to say. Or if I can even speak words right now.

“Is this what you wanted when you put on this dress tonight?” he grunts. “When you picked these panties out and slid them on?”

I whimper, nodding again.

“Say it,” he snarls.

“Yes!” I gasp.

“Say it again.”

I moan. “Yes, I—Oh God!”

His mouth drops to my neck, right along my collarbone. He bites gently, making me squirm as it taps a direct line right between my legs. My desire spikes as his lips, tongue, and teeth drag over my skin. I moan desperately as he grinds his palm into my clit and strokes his finger in and out of my pussy.

And then suddenly, he’s pulling away. His hands move to my wrists, and I gasp when he shoves them back against the wall above my head. His mouth nips and sucks at my neck and collarbone again.

And then, Ilya drops to his knees.

My mouth falls open, and my eyes widen as I watch him shove my dress back up. His fierce gaze drops between my thighs—to where my lacy, sexy panties are still pulled to the side. My face burns like the sun as his eyes drink me in—all of me.

But then suddenly, he leans in close, and I see fucking stars.

“Ilya!!”

I scream his name when I feel his tongue drag through my lips. He parts them slowly, wetly. His tongue slides up to my clit. His lips wrap around the throbbing nub, and I melt as he starts to suck.

His big hands pin my hips to the wall. He growls into me, tonguing my clit before dragging it back lower. He pushes the tip of his tongue into me, and I cry out.

“Oh fuck…”

He groans deeply into me, the vibrations rumbling through my core. His tongue drags back to my clit, and his lips wrap around it. He sucks, flicking his tongue back and forth as my insides turn to jelly.

My legs shake. My hands grip the ivy on the wall at my back as I start to tense and quiver. His fingers dig into me so hard I’m sure there’ll be bruises. But I don’t care.

I don’t care how bad of an idea this is. I don’t care how dirty it is that Ilya Volkov has me pinned to a wall outside with his tongue between my legs. I don’t care how wrong it is that he’s about to make me come.

I just want him to.

“Ilya…”

“You’d better fucking come for me,” he growls against my thigh. He looks up at me with those piercing green eyes in the moonlight. His lips are wet from me, and I whimper when he licks them clean.

He pushes his mouth back between my thighs. I cry out as his tongue drags up my seam to curl around my clit again. He’s relentless, driving me higher until I can’t take it anymore.

You’d better fucking come for me.

His tongue swirls over my clit as he sinks a finger into me. He strokes it against my g-spot right inside as he hums on my clit. It’s more than I can possibly take.

I see stars. I see nothing but exploding light in my eyes as I clamp a hand over my mouth and come hard. My hips rock shamelessly, eager for his mouth as the orgasm shatters me.

His tongue drags lazily over my slit again as I tremble. But slowly, he pulls away. His head turns, and I gasp as I feel his mouth press to my inner thigh. For a second, I think he’s kissing me there. But then I jolt as I feel his teeth nip me.

Heat pools through my core again.

Ilya stands. His eyes glint in the moonlight. His hand slips into my hair, gripping it in a fist at the back as he moves into me. His lips crush to mine, taking my breath away and making me whimper. I can taste myself on his tongue, but I don’t care.

In fact, I like how naughty it makes me feel.

“Tenley!”

I jolt, my heart leaping into my throat at the sound of Patrick’s voice. But it’s in the distance. I turn, glancing back towards the lights of the party back there in the darkness.

“I—” I turn back to Ilya.

“You should get back,” he grunts quietly.

I swallow, nodding. “Yeah.”

Our eyes lock. My entire body sizzles and buzzes with heat. My dress falls back down over me. I blush as I reach down to slip my panties back into place. But in doing so, I simmer at the lingering sensations there between my legs.

My fingers brush against the place where he nipped me with his teeth, and I shiver.

I look back up at Ilya, and I feel frozen. I feel rooted to the spot, like the power in those supernatural green eyes has me locked in place.

Or maybe it’s that I’m not ready to go back to reality after what just happened.

He moves back into me, and I gasp. His hand cups my jaw, gripping my chin. His thumb brushes over my lips before he lowers his mouth to kiss me.

It’s a punishing, fierce, hard kiss. And when he pulls away, I can barely breath or stand upright.

“Now you’re mine,” he growls thickly.

I flush, swallowing. I look up into his eyes. But when I see the smirk on his lips, the defiance swells in me, like an instant reaction.

“That doesn’t make me yours—”

“We’ll see,” he grunts. His hand suddenly moves up between my legs, and I whimper as he cups my soaked panties and throbbing pussy. Ilya smiles thinly, smugly. “We’ll see.”