Savage Heir by Jagger Cole

30

“Spread your legs.”

His hands slide up my thighs, shoving my dress up with them. When he reaches my panties, he grips them tightly. I gasp into his neck as his muscles bulge, and the thin panties rip away from me.

I moan when his hand cups me, his finger slipping through my silky wetness as I tremble for him. He rolls my clit under his fingertip as I hear the sound of his zipper pulling down and his belt unbuckling.

I whimper as I cling to him.

“Do you want me?” The wolfish growl rumbles into my ear.

I moan, nodding.

“Do you want me?” he snarls again.

“Yes!” I choke. “Yes, I—oh God…”

I feel the swollen thickness of him press into me. My lips part, swallowing him in as he drives his dick into me to the hilt. Pleasure explodes inside of me as I cling to his tattooed, muscled arms.

“Yes,” I moan, over and over again. “Yes…”

“You’re mine now,” Ilya hisses into my ear right before his fanged teeth sink into my neck with a howl.

I wake up with a jolt, sweating and trembling. And wet.

I suck in a breath of air and turn to grab the glass of water I usually keep on the bedside table. I drink deeply, still shaking as the dream settles into my psyche.

I’ve been having this dream for days. It’s the same thing every time—rough, snarly Ilya demanding me to strip, or just ripping my clothes off. Then he fucks me, or at least it feels like how I imagine sex feels.

But then right as it starts, he starts to turn into a monster—a wolf, or some other fanged, clawed, savage animal. And then I wake up like this.

I take a deep breath, feeling my skin tingle from the dream. But something lingers, like the feeling you get when you realize you’re being watched.

I stiffen, my eyes darting around the dark room. I fumble for the bedside light, flicking it on with a gasp. But as quickly as the fear came on, it fades. There’s no one here. I’m alone. Just me and my throbbing, forbidden dreams of Ilya.

When I click the light back off, I settle back against the pillows. But the feeling is still there. Like I can’t quite kick the dream, or the feeling of being watched. I chew on my lip as I sit up again and swing my legs out of the bed.

I stand and walk quietly towards my bedroom window. I pause, and the I pull back the curtains and glance out to see what awaits me.

But there’s nothing. I feel my shoulders slump and my jaw unclench.

There’s nothing, and no one, out there.

I breath as I start to turn back to the bed. But suddenly, the moonlight glinting off something catches my eye. I frown as I turn back to peer into the moonlit yard. Suddenly, my heart clenches, and my eyes focus…

On the bottle of Russian vodka sitting in the grass outside my bedroom window.

“Oh, God, sorry!”

I gasp as I run around the corner from my political sciences class right into someone. My arm-full of books and hers fall to scatter together on the ground as I wince.

“Shit, I’m so—”

I look up and suddenly narrow my eyes at Julianna McCreed. The tall, beautiful, willowy blonde girl stares back at me, her lips thin.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, grabbing my books and whirling to flee.

“Tenley?”

I grit my teeth as I stop to glance back at her. “What.”

“I owe you an apology.”

My brows shoot up. Wait, what? I turn to fully look at her with a puzzled expression on my face.

“Excuse me?”

Her perfect brows knit as she looks down. “I—” she takes a breath. “I’m not a bitch. I mean, I’ve been one to you, but I promise I’m not really like that, I just…” Her mouth twists as she looks up at me. “I’m sorry for that. You never deserved it.”

I chew on my lip for a second. “Thanks,” I say quietly.

She smiles wryly. I’m not really sure what to say, so I start to turn to leave again.

“He’s a real asshole, isn’t he?”

I grin. I can’t help it.

“Ilya, I mean.”

Slowly, I turn to smile at her.

“That he is.”

She grins back before her mouth falls again.

“I always thought I’d be so happy if he paid attention to me the way he does with you.”

“Julianna—”

“Wait, let me say this. Please.” She picks at a nail, looking down.

I frown. Julianna has it all. She’s gorgeous, tall, blonde, wealthy and well-connected, and she’s here, so she’s clearly no dummy. But still, she’s standing in front of me looking hunched and small and frail—full of the same doubts and insecurities as the rest of us.

“There’s never been anything between us, you know,” she mumbles. “Ilya and I. I mean, I tried,” she laughs brittlely. “I did. I’ve carried that torch for so long, and I think it’s turned me into this… this shrew bitch to any girl who gets close to him.”

I shake my head. “Julianna, I—”

“I know,” she croaks. “And I know all it’s been for you is his endless mind games.” She shakes her head and turns to look away. “I always imagined I’d be so happy if he played those mind games with me, but I look at you, and…”

She turns back to smile sadly at me. I give her a wry look back.

“Wanna trade?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “I don’t think I do anymore, actually.” Her brows knit. “But I guess I should thank you.”

“For?”

“Getting me off the Ilya merry-go-round. For good this time.”

My lips twist.

“Look, Tenley, he does play games. But he bores of them, quickly. I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never once seen him stay interested a fifth as long as he’s been chasing after you.”

“I never asked for that, you know.”

She smiles. “I know.” She rolls her eyes. “They never do stop pulling your pigtails on the playground, do they?”

I grin as I shake my head. “Apparently not.”

“Look, I don’t know what or if there even is anything between you, but I needed to say all that. And I hope you can forgive me.”

I look back at her. I take a breath, and I smile.

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

She grins. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure?”

She sighs. “I can’t even believe I’m saying this. But give him a chance? He’s a fucking mess right now, and I’m guessing it has everything to do with you.”

I frown.

“Look, if you want nothing to do with him because he’s a bit of a grumpy prick sometimes—”

“Sometimes?”

She grins. “If it’s that, you do you. But if any part of you keeping your distance is because of me, or because you think he plays these games with every girl, or any other girl?”

She shrugs.

“If that’s it, then maybe give him one more chance? And if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, I’m around.”

I smile back at her. “I think I’d like that. And thank you.”

She grins as she starts to turn.

“Julianna?”

She turns back with a raised brow.

“Why are you doing this? I mean why would you apologize to me, much less help me?”

She chews on her lip for a second, frowning.

“Because blind infatuation makes us do stupid, silly things,” she says quietly. “And I’d like to think I’m better than that.” She smiles at me again. “I’m glad we ran into each other, Tenley.”

I grin. “Me too.”

“Is this a butt dial?”

I smirk.

“Yesh, huwow Iwy-ah,” I mumble in a cartoony, lispy voice. I instantly cringe at myself.

“That was my butt.”

“Your butt has a speech impediment.”

I grin.

“What do you want, Red,” Ilya grunts.

I swallow as I turn to glance into the mirror on the back of my closet door. Now that’s the million-dollar question. What exactly do I want, calling Ilya right now?

“I was… um, I wanted to see if we could talk about the student services office.”

I bite my lip. Right, cause that’s why I called him.

“That why you called?” he grunts. “Tutoring?”

I frown when I realize his voice is a little slurred.

“Are you drinking?”

He laughs coldly. “It’s a Friday night, Tenley.”

My lips twist.

“Anything else?” he snaps.

“I heard you’ve been partying pretty hard again.”

“Yeah?” he mutters. “Who told you that, my dear friend Lukas?”

The sneering tone regarding his friend makes me frown.

“Are you and Lukas on the outs?”

“The fuck do you care.”

My brows knit. “Wait, this isn’t about…” I blush. “The, uh, the other day, is it?”

“What other day?”

“When I… when we…”

“Our sleepover,” he growls with a thin edge to his voice.

My face burns as I nod. “Yeah. I mean with you being mad at Lukas.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with Lukas?”

I frown. “I saw him that morning. We talked—”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” he hisses dangerously.

Yep. There it is. That’s the issue.

“Wait is that why you’re mad at him?”

“Leave it,” he growls.

“Ilya, we had coffee together. And then I ran off because I realized I was out of my mind for staying the night at your house!” I snap.

“And I wonder who helped you arrive at that—”

“No one,” I hiss. “Like I’d need any help at all to see that spending the night in Ilya Volkov’s bed was a horrible idea?”

He’s silent.

“Why’d you call, Tenley.”

I exhale sharply. “It’s just… I haven’t heard from the board about the tutoring—”

“I’m not going to throw you under the bus, okay? We’re done,” he snaps. “No more games, no more bullshit.”

He coughs, and I frown.

“You smoke too much, you know.”

“Thanks mother,” he slurs.

“Ilya—”

“What.”

I bite my lip. “Is this… I mean the partying and the drinking… is this because of…” I shrug. “You know.”

He laughs coldly. “You?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

My lips curl. “You know what, I have no idea why the hell I called. Go fuck yourself Ilya—”

“I’m not drinking cause of you, Red,” he mutters quietly. “This isn’t an American country song. I’m drinking because it’s the anniversary of my parents dying.”

I blink, taken aback sharply by his words.

“Shit, Ilya, I’m so—”

“Don’t be. It was a long-ass time ago,” he sighs. “I’m not wallowing, Red. It’s just something I do every year.”

I frown. “Do you— I mean…”

“Do I what.”

I close my eyes. “Do you want some company?”

“I didn’t tell you that for sympathy,” he grunts.

“You’ve never said anything I believe more.”

He chuckles darkly and then coughs.

“You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

I scowl.

“I didn’t mean that,” Ilya grunts.

“Well, I could keep you company on the phone?”

“Just like I’m right there, huh?”

I blush. But I shiver as I feel the hairs on my neck stand up, like they did the other night. I swallow and glance around the room. But of course, that’s silly. No one’s here. Ilya has not somehow learned how to teleport himself behind me.

“How about you, Red?” he grunts. “What are you up to?”

I push my jeans off and start to paw through my dresser for the coziest pajamas I can find.

“Getting dressed to go out.”

He chuckles thickly. “You’re a bad liar, Tenley.”

“I’m not lying,” I lie.

“Let me guess, you’re looking for pajamas to wear before you go watch Netflix with Princess Diaries.”

My eyes widen. What the fuck.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

I swallow. “No.”

I pull a pair of pink fuzzy pajamas out. But then I put them back and reach for the white ones with snowflakes on them.

“Go with the pink.”

I almost scream. I whirl, scanning the room as my face pales.

“Ilya what the hell!”

“I’m not in your head, Red,” he mumbles.

“Then where the fuck—”

“Knock. Knock.”

I whirl, gasping. Just as he said the words, the knocking sound rapped against my windowpane. And there, holding onto the second-floor sill with a phone against his shoulder, is Ilya, lancing me with that gaze through the glass.

“What the hell are you doing!?” I hiss as I yank the window open. “How the hell did you get up…” I glance past him at the lattice that runs down the side of the cottage.

“You’re insane.”

“Think I could come in before I break my fucking neck?”

I grin. “Yeah, sure. Here.”

I step back, letting him fall into my room. He pulls himself up, and I frown when I see the disheveled hair, the bleary eyes and the haggard look on his face.

“Ilya, Jesus, you look—”

His eyes drop. So do mine, and I blush.

I never put pants on.

“You dress up just for me, Red?”

My face burns as I chew on my lip. But I don’t whirl to get dressed or hide in the bathroom. I don’t scream for him not to look.

I just look up. And this time, when those magnetic green eyes burn into me, I stare right back, without blinking.

His jaw grits. Slowly, he starts to move towards me. I tremble, but I don’t run. I stand my ground, pulse thudding as he approaches.

“Maybe I did want company,” he growls.

“I’m not a band-aid for your misery, Ilya,” I whisper.

“Good,” he grunts. “Because that would be some sad-ass shit.”

He stops right in front of me. I tremble, my skin tingling and throbbing at the nearness of him; at the ache for him to reach out and touch me.

Or grab me, and never let go.

I look up into his eyes, rimmed with a tired darkness. His ruffled hair, the lines on his face.

“Ilya,” I whisper, my face falling. “You’re a mess.”

I gasp as his hands land on my hips. They tighten, possessively. He pulls me against him, and I whimper as he lowers his lips until they’re an inch from mine.

“You make a mess of me, Tenley,” he hisses. “You make a mess of all of me.”

His mouth crushes to mine, swallowing my moans. Devouring me whole.

His hands pull at my shirt, and I willingly lift my arms. My fingers shake as I peel his t-shirt off, my hands sliding down over his muscled, tattooed chest.

“No more games,” he growls. “No more bullshit.”

“Ilya—”

“Tell me to leave, Tenley,” he groans making me shiver as he grabs me and slams his mouth to mine.

His tongue finds mine, and I whimper as I cling to him. His hands slip over my ass, peeling my panties down. My hands fumble at his belt, yanking it open before I shove his jeans down.

“Tell me to fucking leave,” he hisses. “Before I don’t until I’ve devoured every fucking bite of you.”

“I can’t do that, Ilya,” I gasp against his mouth. “Because I don’t want you to—Oh fuck!”

I moan as his hand slips between my bare thighs.

“Then you’re mine.”