Savage Heir by Jagger Cole

35

I spendthe entire trip back waiting to wake up. Like I’m in a dream that’s going to pop at any second. And when it does, I’ll be back in my reality. Ilya’s hand won’t be holding mine in this possessive way with his fingers laced through mine.

The sweet bruises from his fingers on my skin like perfect little memories of last night will fade.

But there’s no waking up. It’s just that my reality has become a dream.

On the drive to the airfield in Manchester, the speed and ferocity at which Ilya drove just sort of felt natural—like him attacking the road like he wants to make it submit with his car tires was just the way he is.

But on the way back to school, the drive is slow; like he’s taking his time.

There’s no blindfold this time. I smile curiously as we pull into an old barn. But when a button on his dash like a garage door opener swings open a hidden wall and the tunnel delving down into the earth behind it, my jaw drops.

It’s official: this is actually a James Bond movie.

The clubhouse—for lack of a better term—at the end of the long tunnel is even more jaw-dropping. We’re moving towards the metal stairs that seem to lead up to Lordship Manor when Ilya suddenly grabs me and pushes me flat to the wall.

I whimper as he yanks my sundress up, shoves my panties to the side, and roughly pushes his swollen cock into me from behind.

“Ilya,” I moan.

“One more time,” he snarls into my ear.

His hands grip my waist as he thrusts savagely, fucking me against the wall by the staircase as I whimper for more.

“I can’t get enough,” his lips husk into my ear. “I’ll never have enough.”

His hand slips down my front, rolling my clit as he drives into me. It’s not drawn out, and it’s just a savage, primal need for us both to have each other.

In no time, I’m crying out as the orgasm hits me. My toes curl in my sandals, and I reach back to sink my fingers into his hip. Ilya bites my neck, making me gasp in pleasure as he buries himself in my pussy. His cock throbs, pumping his hot cum deep into me.

“It’ll never be enough,” he groans. “Never.”

We part halfwaybetween Lordship Manor and my cottage. Neither of us has to say the reasons out loud. We just both accept that him not walking me to my front door is probably a good thing.

I’m not sure if whatever is left of my reputation could even survive that scandal.

But I walk home on a cloud. I walk home swaying and feeling like I should be dancing with birds and woodland creatures like I’m a fairy princess or something.

I do pause once or twice to roll my eyes at myself. But it doesn’t slow my heart. It doesn’t flush away the glow on my cheeks.

Nothing can do that.

That is, until I step into my cottage.

I frown as I see the pale, terrified expression on Charlotte’s face, standing in the kitchen to the left of the front door.

“Char?”

I frown, dropping my bag as I go to her.

“Jesus, Charlotte, what’s wrong—”

“You fucking disgust me.”

I gasp, whirling and clutching my heart to see Patrick standing in the living room behind me. I swallow, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Patrick, what the hell are you even doing—”

“He’s fixing this.”

My heart drops as the older man in the dark suit with the silver hair, and that farm-boy chin just like his shit-head son steps into view.

“Senator North,” I choke, paling as my eyes focus on Patrick’s father—the man who is almost certainly going to be the next President.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte whispers behind me. “They just got here and they wouldn’t let me call—”

“Ms. Chambers,” Senator North says in a clipped tone. His steely eyes narrow at me. “This bullshit parade of yours is over. Now. Today.”

I clench my hands at my sides.

“Senator—”

“I don’t want or need to hear it, Tenley,” he growls. “My son doesn’t seem to be able to reign this in, so I am.”

His brow deepens as he glares at Patrick, and then at me.

“This dalliance of yours with Yuri Volkov’s nephew is done. I have worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much to get to where I am, and I will not have this shit shattering my goddamn career.”

“Sir, if I could just—”

“You cannot, Tenley,” he growls. “This ends now,” he jabs a finger at floor as he snarls. “Or I cut your father loose. I mean that. And it will not be quiet. I don’t relish playing dirty politics, but don’t you think for a second that I won’t. Your father’s career will be finished if I axe him from my campaign. That’s a promise.”

The room goes numb. Or maybe that’s just me as the knife twists into my heart.

“Have I made myself abundantly clear?”

I nod as tears start to fall down my cheeks.

Senator North’s brow furrows, like a sliver of humanity coming out from behind the steely politician.

“I…” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Tenley. I am. But politics is a game, and we’re at the Super Bowl. There’s no room for fucking around anymore.”

He levels his eyes at me.

“I don’t give a single shit what there is or isn’t between you and my son. I don’t care if it’s fake. It’s polling through the roof, so you’re going to keep doing it.”

Senator North draws in a deep breath.

“Cut Volkov loose, and never go near him again, or I will bury your father and his entire legacy. And if that’s not making you shit your pants quite enough, you can be damn sure that when he goes down, that plan of yours that he always tells me about goes kaput too.”

All I can do is nod quietly as the tears trickle down my cheeks. Senator North glances at his son.

“Let’s go, Patrick.”

He walks past me, stopping briefly to rest a hand on my shoulder before he’s out the door. Patrick storms after him, barely looking at me.

“Slut,” he mutters as he slams the door shut behind him.

But the sound of it has barely faded before I’m falling into Charlotte’s hands and crying my eyes out.

I spent the whole day waiting, and now here it is.

It’s time to wake up.

“Hey, kiddo.”

My dad’s tone tells me he doesn’t need to be caught up with what’s just happened.

“Hi,” I croak.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry…” his voice catches and halts with emotion. “Christ, I’m so fucking sorry, honey.”

“No, dad,” I sink onto my bed. I’m still shaking from earlier, and my face is still stained with tears. But after Charlotte held me and rocked me for who knows how long, I’ve been standing in my room, looking in the mirror.

Trying to find a way. Trying to see how this ends.

But I already know the answer, and that hurts worst of all.

“No, I’m sorry, dad,” I whisper.

“I never should have agreed to this bullshit with Patrick North, honey,” he sighs heavily. “I got so caught up in these damn polling numbers, and the PR, and ‘the brand,’ that I just…”

“I knew what I was signing up for,” I murmur, looking down.

He sighs. “This boy—”

“It’s over dad.”

I clench, wincing like a blade has just cut into me as I say it out loud. My face crumbles as I clutch at my heart. But I hold back the tears, for my dad.

Because after staring at myself for an hour in the mirror, this is where I’ve landed. Politics is making the hard choices. Sticking to The Plan was never going to be easy.

It’s just that today, it gets really, really fucking hard.

I’m picking my dad.

When this is all boiled down, that’s the choice: to be selfish and follow Ilya, which will destroy my dad and probably my own future as well. Or, I can just not do that, and push on—painfully—on the path I’ve been walking since I was a girl.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean it might not kill me.

But that’s life.

“It’s over, dad,” I whisper.

“Honey, my concern here is not about my damn VP bid. C’mon, Tenley, I don’t give a shit about—”

“Dad, this is your entire career. Of course you do. As I do.”

He grunts. “I’d pick you and your happiness any goddamn day, kiddo.”

I wince as the tears start to flow again.

“But my concern is about who this guy is.”

“He’s…” I shake my head. “He’s not who you think he is,” I whisper.

“He’s the nephew of and heir apparent to Yuri goddamn Volkov, Tenley. That is exactly who he—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I croak. My eyes close. “It doesn’t matter, dad. It’s over.”

He’s silent for a minute before he sighs heavily. “I’m so sorry, Tenley. I’m so damn sorry.”

The tears fall heavily, but the choice has been made.

It is what it is, and deep down, I knew this was never going to last.

Who ever heard of Little Red Riding Hood ending up with the Big Bad Wolf anyway?