Savage Heir by Jagger Cole

32

I awake to warmth,a possessive grip on my hip, and tattooed skin under my cheek.

For the second time in my life, I’ve woken up in a bed I’ve shared with Ilya Volkov. Only this time, he’s still in it with me when my eyes open. I bite my lip, unable to stop the grin as I look up into his sleeping face.

Yeah, so, that happened.

I simmer as my mind replays the events of last night. The structured part of me—the part with The Plan—wants to scream at how absolutely insane it was for me literally jump into bed with Ilya—especially when it involved giving him my virginity.

My cheeks burn hotly as the visceral memory of that comes rushing back. But there’s no shame that comes with it. There’s no regrets. There’s just an aching, throbbing need for more. As if I’ve had a taste of Ilya, and now I want to overdose on him.

I grin to myself. Okay, maybe three times in one night is more than “a taste.” It’s the whole meal, plus dessert.

My body surges with heat as the flashes simmer through my head like fever dreams: Ilya pinning me to the bed as I came with my legs wrapped tight around him. Moaning into my pillow with his firm grip on my hips and his frankly huge dick pounding me from behind.

My face burns hotly. And of course, slowly with my thighs around his hips as I perched on the vanity in my bathroom.

I would say all of that classifies as far more than a taste.

I pull close to him, breathing in the scent of him as I lay on his chest. I bite my lip as I let my eyes slide down his perfect, muscled body. The sheets are bunched really low at his waist. Heat pools between my thighs as I drink in the dark trail of hair down his abs.

My hand moves slowly, pushing the sheets lower as my face burns. The trail leads deeper, my eyes drinking in the grooves of his hips and then the thick base of his—

“Is it still attached?”

I gasp, startling before I yank my head up to see Ilya smirking at me. I blush, biting my lip.

“Still attached,” I murmur. “Firmly, it would seem.”

He groans as his arms circle me, pulling me against him.

“I thought someone might break it off last night.”

I blush. “Who, me?”

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he growls, making me flush with heat.

I grin and drop my cheek to his chest.

“Did you have fun last night?”

I blush. “I mean, a little, I guess.”

He chuckles as his arms slide around me to pull me tighter. But then suddenly, a shadow crosses my face.

Fun.

I tense. Doubt starts to rear its ugly head. And suddenly, my mind switches gears. Instead of replaying the ecstasy of last night, I’m replaying the lead-up parts. Parts like Ilya showing up a little drunk. Parts like me not having any pants on when he climbed up here.

Parts like me having been a virgin, and him, well… not.

But before I can head down that ugly path any further, a knock at my bedroom door has me gasping and bolting upright.

“Hey, Tenley?”

Charlotte’s voice calls through the door.

“Uh… yes?”

“You have a guest.”

My face burns hotly.

“No I don’t!” I blurt in a rush.

Charlotte clears her throat. “Uh, downstairs? At the front door?”

I groan as I roll my eyes. “Yeah, uh, one sec.”

I turn to see Ilya eyeing me with a thin smile.

“This is going to sound terrible, but… uh…”

“I’ll stay in here.”

I blush. “It’s just—”

His hand threads into my hair, and I moan as he pulls me in to kiss me deeply and slowly. He kisses me until my toes curl and my pulse is hammering in my ears.

“Just so we’re clear,” he growls quietly. “I was drinking last night, but I wasn’t drunk-drunk.”

I shrug as casually as I can muster. “Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I didn’t come here on a whim, Tenley. I didn’t come here to get laid,” he murmurs against my lips. “I came here for you.”

I swallow. My eyes raise to lock with his as my cheeks burn.

“I’m glad you did.”

His eyes spark as he leans in to kiss me again.

“Tell whoever is at the door to fuck off,” he growls thickly. I gasp when his hand slips under the covers to splay over my ass, which he promptly spanks.

“And then get this ass back up here to this bed.”

I’m tingling everywhere as I regretfully slip from the bed. I blush, feeling his eyes roaming over me as I pad to the dresser and pull a t-shirt and pajama pants on.

I crack the bedroom door and peek out. I flush when I realize Charlotte is standing right there on the landing between our rooms, eying me.

“Uh, hi,” I mumble.

I try and make myself as small as possible, to slip out of as tiny a cracked door as possible. I shut it behind me and lean against it to smile at her. But it’s painfully obvious how guilty I look to her as she cocks her brow at me.

“So, I have questions,” she murmurs with a sly grin. “Several, actually.”

“About?” I say quickly.

“Really?” She folds her arms over her chest. “You’re really going to play it that way?”

I can feel my face burning. “I don’t know what we’re talking—”

“Fine,” she says thinly, smirking at me. “Fine, we’ll do it that way.”

She leans close to my ear.

“But don’t think for a second that we’re not going to talk about who slept in your bed last night later.”

My face burns fiercely.

“If I could make a small suggestion, though?”

All I can do is nod.

“Maybe don’t mention it to him,” she mutters, gesturing down the stairs with a finger.

My brow knits. “Who?”

Charlotte’s mouth thins.

“Patrick.”

“Hey,”I smile, hoping my face isn’t still red and guilty as I step out of the front door of the cottage. But Patrick has his back to me. He says nothing, which makes my brow knit.

“Wow,” I venture, jokingly. “I can’t believe it’s actually you and not Lain carrying a message for—”

“I’m going to make this as crystal fucking clear as I can, Tenley,” Patrick snaps, whirling on me. I shiver at the fierce snarl on his face. His normally sparkling blue eyes are darkened with fury, narrowed at me as they pin me to the door behind me.

“Patrick—”

“I will not be made a fool of,” he growls.

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you!” He snaps. “You and your insistence on making this arrangement as difficult as fucking possible!”

I tense at the furious tone to his voice.

“Patrick, I’m not sure what you—”

“You won’t show up to meals with me,” he snaps. “You won’t attend school functions on my arm. And you refuse to kiss me!”

I stare at him. “What?”

“This is an arrangement you agreed to it, Tenley,” he snaps. “For my father’s campaign, and for your own father’s. And of course, for mine later on.”

My eyes narrow on him. “I’m sorry, what are we even talking about, Patrick? This ‘you and me’ thing?” I snap angrily. “It’s a media stunt! We both know that!”

His face darkens. “It’s bigger than that now, and you know it.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

“I’ve been quite clear with my feeling and intentions towards you, Tenley.”

I stare at him. “Yes, but Patrick, that’s not a binding term of a clause!” I shake my head. “Look, I’m sorry if I don’t see you the way you see me—”

“Maybe it would help if I was fucking criminal,” he sneers. “Would that do it? If I whored around and did drugs and spoke fucking Russian?” He bellows. “That what it takes to fuck you, Tenley?”

My face reddens as I glare at him. “You are way out of line here, Patrick.” I shake my head. “We’re done here.”

I whirl. But then gasp as his hand grabs my wrist tight to yank me back around.

“The hell we are,” he snarls. “I want what I want, Tenley,” he hisses. “And I will get it.”

I stare at him. “I’m not your trust fund, Patrick! I’m not an election! You don’t get to just win me!”

“No?” He smiles thinly. “Then let’s do it this way. Let me spell it out for you: you and me together is doing fantastic things for the campaign. But it also tests through the roof for my future plans.” He grins. “America loves us, Tenley. Or specifically, they love me, with you on my arm.”

I laugh coldly. “I’m not your prop, Patrick.”

“No?”

“No.” I turn to go back inside. “This conversation is over—”

“Then so is your father’s career.”

I freeze.

“Done, Tenley. And I don’t just mean his shot at the Vice Presidency. I mean in politics. In Washington at all.”

I turn to stare at the cruel smile on his face in horror.

“Do you not understand that I can ruin you?” He says thinly. “Through my father, I can take Martin Chambers from decorated Naval lawyer and would-be Vice President to garbage. I can have him connected to any fucking scandal I want. And when he goes down?”

He smiles thinly.

“You go down. You’re not here on any real merit, or family influence. You’re here because of my family influence.”

I stare at him. “Patrick, my dad is the fucking Secretary of State—”

“And not from a pedigreed family. And only in that position because my father and those who lead with him put him there, in order to give him the resume to join this campaign.”

He sneers as the color drains from my cheeks.

“So go ahead, Tenley. Keep throwing shit in my fucking face and see if I keep smiling. Keep rebuking me and denying me and see how fast I get you thrown out of Oxford Hills. Then we can see what university would possibly want you.”

I tremble as he storms over to loom over me.

“You don’t make Supreme Court getting kicked out of high school, Tenley.”

My chest feels tight. It feels like my throat is squeezing in on itself. I gape, gasping for air as I stare at Patrick in horror.

“Get your shit together, Tenley. And then you’d better toe the fucking line. You will show up to meals with me. When I want to go to a school event for the cameras with you on my arm? You’ll fucking be there. When I want to kiss you?”

I shudder as he reaches out to smear a thumb over my lips. He leans closer, but not all the way.

“I goddamn will. And if I want more than that?” He growls dangerously. I cringe, nausea washing over me as he leans close to my ear. “Then you’d better believe I’ll have it. One way or another.”

He steps away, leaving me shaking and feeling like I want to throw up.

“And if I even hear of you going near Volkov?”

He smiles at me.

“I’ll fucking end you.”

He turns and starts to leave, just like that.

“I’ll send Lain when I need you.”

I stand there shaking, watching him walk away until he’s out of sight. I’m trembling as I turn, fumbling for the door. I’m in a daze, barely hanging on as I stumble back into the house. Charlotte is right there, her face ashen like she’s heard the whole thing.

“Tenley…”

“I’m fine,” I blurt. I turn and stumble up the stairs like I’m blind. I fumble at my bedroom door until it spills in. Ilya is lying on my bed looking brooding as always. But when he sees me, his face darkens.

“Shit, what—”

I start to sob as I kick the door shut behind me. He bolts from the bed, and when I fall, it’s The Wolf that’s there to catch me.

I cry into his chest. I cling to him. I let him carry me back to bed and hold me until everything fades away.

When I wake,it’s late in the afternoon. And I’m alone. I swallow, hugging myself and burying my face into the pillow but slowly, I pull myself together.

I pad downstairs to find Charlotte in the kitchen. Immediately, she rushes over to hug me tightly, stroking my back.

“You heard all of that, then?”

She nods as she pulls back, her face grim.

“What a fucking asshole.”

I nod, my eyes narrowing. “Yeah.”

I glance around the downstairs area, dragging my teeth over my lip.

“He left a little while ago.”

I whip my head around, blushing. “Uh, who—”

She rolls her eyes. “Ilya.” She smirks at me. “Not such a bad guy, I have to admit.”

I look down. “He’s got his moments.”

“I’ll say. He was not too happy to hear about the Patrick shit.”

My face pales as I look up at her in horror. But she shakes her head.

“He’s not murdering Patrick, relax.”

“Charlotte!” I croak, feeling sick. “He’s in the fucking bratva! He—”

“Chill,” she laughs, strangely calm. “Ilya is not killing anyone.”

“And how the hell do you know that?”

“Because he dropped that off and told me to tell you to meet him at Lordship when you were up.”

She nods past me. I turn to see an elegant leather attaché bag, like the kind you might take as a carry-on for a flight.

“Am I supposed to pack for something?”

Charlotte raises her brows. “Nope.”

My brows furrow. “I’m not sure I—”

“He already packed for you.”

My face stills as I walk over to the table. I unzip the luggage back and blink in shock. It’s filled with neatly folded clothes—all kinds of them, too. There’s a gorgeous black evening dress, a bikini, jeans and a long-sleeved hiking-type shirt, casual clothes…

My face burns.

And lots of lingerie every bit as sexy and risqué as the stuff he already bought me.

I swallow as I turn to stare at Charlotte.

“What the fuck is going on?”

She smiles and arches her brow as she sips her tea.

“What’s going on is that you seem to have won The Wolf’s attention. And he’s waiting for you.”

Twenty minutes later,I step through the front gate of Lordship Manor to find Ilya waiting on the front step. I stop in front of him and drop the leather attaché bag at my feet.

“Are we fleeing the country?”

His eyes smile. “Maybe.”

My face tightens. “I’m being serious. Did you like, kill Patrick or something?”

A shadow crosses Ilya’s face.

“Would you like me to?”

I shiver. “Not really.”

Ilya slinks towards me until he’s right in front of me, those piercing green eyes burning into mine.

“Name a place you’ve never been.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Just pick a place.”

“Antarctica?”

He sighs. “Someplace actually habitable. A place you’ve always wanted to go.”

My mouth thins as I think. But it comes instantly.

“Paris?”

“Perfect.” He reaches down and grabs the bag. “Let’s go.”

I blink. “To… where, to Paris?”

“Unless you’ve really got your heart set on fucking Antarctica,” he grunts as he turns and starts walking around the side of the manor.

I bolt after after him.

“Hang on, Ilya, you really mean Paris-Paris?”

“No, I mean New Jersey-Paris.” He smirks at me. “Yes, I mean Paris-Paris.”

I stare at him. “How? I mean, Ilya, we can’t even leave campus—”

“And what about me thus far has possibly given you the impression that I abide by rules?”

“What about school—”

“Tenley,” he growls.

I tremble as he cups my chin and leans down. His lips press to mine, fiercely taking my breath away before he pulls back. Those green eyes glint into me as my pulse thuds.

“Stop fucking thinking for once.”

I drag my teeth over my lips.

“So what’s it going to be, Red. In or out.”

I could pretend to dwell on it or make a show of wrestling with my rule-following self. But I know he’d see through it anyway. And besides, the answer is easy enough to blurt out.

“In.”