Page 87 of Brutal Heir

And then she yanks me back down to her mouth, and the world burns away until there’s only her, and me, and the pulse of danger thrumming through our veins.

CHAPTER 34

IF I FALL

Rory

His mouth is chaos. Fire and hunger and too many unsaid truths.

One second I’m pressed against the railing overlooking the dancefloor his skillful fingers teasing my clit, and the next, Alessandro Rossi is kissing me like I’m the last thing tethering him to this world. Like if he lets go, he’ll spiral straight into the void.

And God help me, I kiss him back. Because maybe I would spiral too.

Despite avoiding him all week, one step back in this place, and he’s transformed into something else. A god among mere men. And I’m helpless but to give into his fiery touch.

His lips are softer than I remembered, but his kiss? It’s anything but gentle. It’s brutal yet tender all at once, a war between restraint and obsession. His hand grips my waist like he’s anchoring himself. The other is still dangerously close to mythrobbing center, his mouth devouring me in a way that makes it very, very clear this is no spur-of-the-moment slip.

Not like the other night could have been.

This man has wanted me for a long time.

And I’ve been lying to myself. Pretending I could handle being near him and not feel everything.

Because I do. I feel too damn much.

I clutch his shirt, pulling him closer even as my brain screams at me to back away. This is the part where it all goes to hell, isn’t it? This is the part where I lose the tiny shred of control I’ve been clinging to.

When he lifts me just enough so my hips catch the inner rail, I gasp against his lips, heart slamming into my ribs. His chest is flush with mine, and even through the layers of fabric, I feel the tension in him. The need. The restraint.

“You sure this is a good idea?” I manage, breathless and half-dazed but still fully aware I could plummet to my death if it wasn’t for the safety within the cage of his arms.

His eyes, mismatched and feral, meet mine with a heat that burns all the way to my core.

“Probably not,” he says, and his voice is wrecked and rough and sexy as sin. “But I’ve never been good at doing the right thing.”

So I yank him down to me again.

Our mouths collide, and something unravels inside me. Some thread of resistance snaps, giving way to heat and hunger and the terrifying realization that I might never be able to come back from this.

From him.

My fingers find the back of his neck, fastening there, and I swear he groans against my lips like he’s just barely holding on. His hips press into mine, the hard line of his cock unmistakable, and a dangerous thrill shoots straight through me.

But beneath the lust, there's something deeper. Something dangerous.

Because it’s not just my body responding to him. It’s all of me. I’ve spent years building walls, pretending I didn’t need anyone. But all it takes is one kiss, one touch, and I’m crumbling. Not because I’m weak, but because he makes me want more.

Every broken, bruised, terrified part of me wants this man. And that’s the most terrifying thing of all.

Because if I fall, I’m not sure I’ll survive the landing. Not with him. Not with the heir to a throne built on blood. Just like my own.

But for now, I kiss him like I don’t care.

Like the dancefloor below doesn’t exist. Like no one’s watching.

Because maybe, for the first time in my life, I want to be the one doing the ruining. And maybe, just maybe, I want him to ruin me right back.

So I slip my hand between us and find his thick cock pressed against his slacks. A part of me fully realizes I’ve lost my mind. Not only am I about to break every rule I’ve adhered to since becoming a nurse and obliterate every line that exists between my patient and me, but I’m also about to let him feck me dangling over the railing of his nightclub.