Savage Heir by Jagger Cole

34

She ripsat my tux as my hand slips over the small of her back. My fingers trace higher as she undoes my tie, then my shirt buttons. I shrug the jacket off as my fingers find the hidden zipper at the back of her gown.

One stroke down, and the whole thing falls from her to pool at her feet. And then, she’s in front of me, in my arms, in nothing but heels and diamonds.

Exactly how I want her, always.

My pants fall, and I growl as her hand slips down to wrap around my cock. She strokes me against her stomach as I kiss her fiercely, hands gripping her ass.

Even now, with all of this—the diamonds, the private jet to Paris, the fucking Opera—she’s still her own. She’s not pandering to me. She’s not giving in to me. She might be naked in my arms, but she’s not mine.

And that both infuriates me and draws me in like nothing else.

She’s a conquest I can’t conquer. She’s a victory I can’t quite claim. And it’s making my head spin like nothing I’ve ever known before.

My hand slips between her legs, stroking her slick pussy. She whimpers into my mouth and strokes my throbbing cock faster. I move my hips, guiding my head lower as I grip her thigh. She moans as I lift her leg and push, sinking the swollen tip into her tight little pussy.

“Ilya—!”

“Just like that,” I groan, driving into her slowly. I ease inch after inch into her, until she’s clawing at my hips to try and get more of me.

Slowly, the roles fall away. The divide between us doesn’t exist. I’m not the monster. She’s not the defiant thorn in my side. I’m not the wicked Bratva prince, and she’s not the untouchable daughter of the law.

We’re just Ilya and Tenley. We’re just two people in a world of whirlwinds and chaos that found each other and decided to hold on for longer than a passing moment.

I crush my mouth to hers, groaning into her as my cock sinks the rest of the way into her. Her moans echo in my ears, drowning the rest of the world. Drowning the anger, and the ever-present roar in my head.

Having me. Accepting me. Taming me.

I hiss as I thrust into her, fucking her deeply. Her leg wraps tight around me, the heel digging into the small of my back as she eggs me on. My hands slide down her perfect skin, brushing her tits and teasing her nipples. I grab her ass, and she gasps as I lift her other leg around my hip and pin her to the window behind her.

“Ilya…”

But there are no words we need right now. None of them would say what our bodies are saying so clearly right now. And I know if I talk, I’ll shatter this moment in time.

So I muffle her with my kiss. I bury myself between her legs and fuck her like the world is ending around us. She screams my name when she comes, clawing at my back. But I don’t stop. I don’t slow.

I snarl into her neck, my fingers digging into her skin as I ram my cock deep into her—like I want the memory of me imprinted in her soul forever.

“I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.”

I hate the finality of it. I hate the period it puts on this.

I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want “while it lasts.”

I want always.

But if this is to end, I’m going down swinging. And so when I fuck her against the glass with Paris behind us, it’s to imprint myself on her. It’s to etch myself forever across her heart like a tattoo.

She clings to me, her legs locked behind my back as I push into her over and over. She moans my name like a prayer or a curse. I bury my mouth in her neck before I bite and nip my way to her mouth.

Her lips sear to mine, her nails dig into my skin, and I push myself so deep in her she’ll never forget.

When the release comes, it’s both of us together. I groan her name into her mouth, and her walls ripple and clench around me as I throb and pump my cum deep in her.

Whatever happens tomorrow. We own this night.

“How did your parents die?”

In the dimness of the room, with the silk sheets over us, I turn to eye her. Tenley frowns.

“Sorry, that was in my head, and my mouth just let…” Her face lines as she looks up at me. “Please forget I—”

“Car crash,” I say thinly. “They got hit by a drunk driver.”

Her face falls. “God, I’m so sorry. How old were you?”

“Old enough to get this.” I push my hair back at the temple, revealing the thin, jagged line there.

Tenley’s hand flies to her mouth.

“You were…”

I nod. “The car flipped, and I was trapped in the backseat locked in my booster seat. I was five.”

“Holy fuck,” she croaks, pulling tight to me.

I don’t know why I’ve just told her this. In fact, she’s the only one at school aside from Lukas and Misha who know this.

“I don’t really talk about it,” I grunt. “My uncle Yuri raised me after that.”

“Yuri Volkov.”

I smirk at her. “Yes, that Yuri Volkov. The one who raised me, who taught me to be a man, and brought me into the ways of the Bratva.”

“You mean indoctrinated you into a gang.”

I chuckle darkly. “No, I don’t. It’s not like I had to go out and mug people. It’s not like that. It’s a brotherhood. It’s family.” I shrug. “It’s all I’ve known, and I’m proud of that.”

She doesn’t say anything. But she smiles against my chest, and we’re silent for a few minutes.

“Your mom was in a car crash, too, wasn’t she?”

She nods. “Yep. Only she was with this guy she’d been cheating on my dad with for years. And she’d lied to the both of us about it the whole time.”

I frown when she does. I feel the rage she feels.

“It’s kinda why I have that thing with mind games.”

I lean down to kiss the top of her head.

“They were leaving a restaurant to go to their usual hotel. He—the guy, Jeff. He was drunk.” She shrugs. “That was that.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Eh,” Tenley shrugs again. “She left us. She did that. She picked the stupid shit with Jeff over my dad and I. In the end, we got to keep each other. Her fucking loss, right?”

I grin. I love the strength in this girl. I love the grim resolve and the defiance against the world.

“Wait,” I growl. “You said he was drunk, and they were going to a hotel?”

She looks up at me, confused. “Yes?”

“The drunk guy that hit my parents was with his mistress, a Navy lawyer’s wife, on the way to a hotel after leaving a restaurant.”

Tenley freezes, starting at me.

“What if…” I choke, and her eyes widen.

“Ilya! Oh my fucking—”

When I start to grin, her mouth falls open before she takes a swing at me.

“Oh my God, you are psychotic!” she blurts, smacking me as I grin.

“Jesus, Ilya,” she groans, dropping her forehead to my chest. “That was dark even for you.”

I smirk as she looks up grinning. She leans close, and her lips press to mine.

“I like your darkness, you know.”

“I like your normalness.”

She blushes.

“I kinda like you, too,” I growl as I pull her in and sear my lips to hers.

Hours later,she’s asleep sprawled across me in the huge bed. I slowly blow smoke from my spliff up at the ceiling as she sleeps against me.

I look down at her sleeping face, and I smile—a real one, like a normal person.

I could lie awake all night weighing this out. I could debate with myself and lie to myself until I’m blue in the face that this can’t last, or that this will surely explode in both of our faces.

But instead, I just smile.

Like I said, whatever happens tomorrow, we own this night. We own this moment. The two of us.

I reach over and snub out the smoke. Then I slide into the covers and pull her gently into my arms.

It occurs to me that I’ve never actually slept with a woman. Even the other night in her room, I didn’t sleep. I’d lain awake all night, watching her, wondering if I’d crossed a line.

Wondering if I should let her go, before I destroyed her.

But tonight, there’s none of that. Tonight, I close my eyes as I draw her close.

The screaming in my head is silent. The roar quiets.

And I sleep.