Page 99 of Brutal Heir

I flinch. So does Blaine.

“I’m not…” My voice breaks before I finish. I’m not crying. I hadn't let myself, not in front of him.

Da scoffs and downs the whiskey in one gulp. “Your mam wouldn’t want this weakness. She’d want you to act like an O’Shea.”

My hands curl into fists in my lap.

An O’Shea. Cold. Hard. Unbreakable. Like him.

Mam had been the only softness in this house. The only warmth. And without her, everything had gone gray. Even the Christmas lights, still strung across the fireplace, blink like they don’t want to be here either.

“Can I be excused?” I ask, staring down at my plate.

“Not till your plate’s clean.”

I nod. But I don’t eat another bite.

Later, when Da finally stumbles to bed and the house creaks beneath the weight of grief, I creep outside to the back garden, dragging the threadbare blanket from the couch with me. The cold bites into my skin, but I don’t care. I tilt my face to the stars and whisper, “Merry Christmas, Mam.” Even though it feels anything but.

I swear I hear her voice in the wind. Or maybe I just needed to.

And that night, I make myself a promise?—

Someday, I’d find a new kind of Christmas. One with laughter. And light. And love.

One like I experienced last night at Luca Valentino’s home. From the little Alessandro has told me about his father and uncles, their past was a dark one, but somehow, they found the light. And I would too.

This. His body, his warmth, the way he makes me feel seen is what I wished for all those years ago in the dark. And now, I have it.

This would be my Christmas.

Lifting my head from Alessandro’s chest, I crawl beneath the covers and fit myself between his legs. His cock leans lazily to the side, but the moment my tongue grazes its silky head, it comes alive. Wrapping my hand around his growing length, I tease the sensitive skin around his crown.

A groan echoes from beyond the tent of bed linens.

“Mmm, Rory,” Alessandro growls, his hands blindly searching for me beneath the covers.

Determined in my mission, I glide my tongue up and down his shaft before taking him in my mouth.

“Fuck…” he groans. “What a way to wake up, Red.”

“Merry Christmas, Alessandro,” I mumble around his length.

“Oh,cazzo, that’s right. Merry Christmas.” He makes a feeble attempt to straighten, but I place my hand on his abs, halting him.

“I’m not done with you yet, Rossi.”

A flicker of mirth darkens his mismatched irises.

I toy with his balls with one hand, licking and sucking as I quicken my strokes. He’s hard as hell now, his excitement igniting my own. I take him all the way in, until his head is at the back of my throat. Sometimes I forget how damned huge he is. My head bobs faster as I feel his cock tensing beneath my tongue.

His physical reactions coupled with those sexy moans have heat pooling between my legs. As if he’s read my mind, his hand crawls beneath the covers, climbs up my leg and finds my throbbing center.

My head falls back, the instant his finger strokes my clit. “Oh, Ale…” I groan.

His hand curls around my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. “Get out from under there, Red.” His voice is a jagged whisper. “I want your mouth on mine and that beautiful pussy wrapped around my cock.”

Coming off his dick with a wet pop, I glance up at him with a wicked grin. “All you had to do was ask, McFecker. You know I live to serve.”