Page 100 of Brutal Heir

A warm chuckle vibrates his chest as I crawl up his body and settle across his hips. His cock is hard between my legs, and I glide over his shaft, rubbing against the hard ridges.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he hisses as he sits up and captures my nipple in his mouth. “I need to be inside you.” He lifts me like I weigh nothing and drops me onto that thick cock.

I sink onto him, a groan squeezing through my lips as he fills me up. “Oh, feckin’ hell,” I grind out.

His hands tighten around my hips, guiding me up and down, up and down in a relentless pace. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Mmm, yes.” Every nerve in my body vibrates with pleasure, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. More importantly, driving back all the dark memories of the past.

From now on, this would be Christmas.

Alessandro’s powerful body wrecking me in the most incredible way.

I draw his mouth to mine, claiming his lips as my own while my fingers dive into the soft hair at his nape. His body molds to mine, all the hard ridges giving way to my soft curves. Fire surges through my veins, pushing me toward the precipice.

“I’m going to come,” I moan against his mouth.

“Good. I need to feel your warm pussy squeezing my cock. I want to feel all of you, Rory.” He quickens his pace, arching his hips off the mattress to drive deeper and faster. Our bodies move as one, in perfect rhythm, our hearts beating in a matching tempo.

My head falls back as the surge of raw pleasure crashes over me, and the orgasm vibrates through every inch of my being. “Oh, my… Alessandro,” I moan.

He continues to thrust through the crashing waves, only extending the explosion of pleasure ricocheting inside me. Then once he’s wrung out every ounce of ecstasy, I feel him twitch inside me, a groan parting his lips.

“Merda, Rory,” he growls. “Dio, I love y—that.”

His breath catches. The words twist in the space between us before collapsing into silence.

My body stills. My heart doesn’t.

His eyes close before he falls back on the mattress, chest heaving beneath me.

I remain frozen for an instant, playing the last few seconds over in my mind. Did he just almost say…? No. I must have been imagining it, right?

His hands wind around my waist, drawing me flush against his body. He’s still inside me, his cum spilling between our tangled forms. But he doesn’t move and neither do I.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he murmurs against my lips.

I roll the new nickname around in my mouth, and I’m not sure I hate it. I should, but I don’t.

“Baby, huh?”

He lifts a lazy shoulder. “I’m trying it out. What do you think?”

“I think you have a thing for nicknames.”

“Do I?” His dark brow rises into a teasing arch.

I splay out my hand, counting off my fingers. “Little leprechaun, she-devil, Red, tiny tyrant, wildling… The list goes on and on.”

“Hmm, maybe you’re right.”

“I think you need to stick with one and own it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, tiny tyrant. I’m going to have to think on it before committing.”

I grin because the man may be an eejit, but I just can’t get enough of him.

He lifts me off his cock and drops me onto the mattress beside him, and I hate how much my body revolts at the loss of his. He slides to the edge of the mattress, and a boyish, uncertain smile that doesn’t belong to the king of the Velvet Vault but to the man beneath it slips across his lips.