Page 56 of Hostile Heir

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Obediently, the duo trots off. Not before Brutus sniffs my dripping fingertips and then backtracks, happily leaving me with his master. The faithful dog senses something far more lethal than danger, something he has no desire to protect me from. I can barely breathe from my cruel libido blistering over me like a rotten infection.

Alone, Tomás reaches for the tequila. “Tell me what you want first, Carina Ferreira,” he says, with a tone so hoarse it stirs up a heat wave.

He stands there with ragged patience and savors a mouthful of liquor. The liquid seems to heighten whatever changeable mood he’s in.

I open my mouth to speak until his hot gaze creates a team of uncontrollable flutters behind my ribs. They burst into my throat, so only a whimper escapes me. I’m aroused by the sight of his sculpted abdomen, his stare fixed to my face, and how he should appear threatening to me. Yet his self-assured countenance appears wolfish—carnal.

“What do you want from me, Carina,” he repeats gently, his tone marginally relaxed, as if he knows I’m struggling to find myself.

“My phone,” I whisper as my fingertips mindlessly pad my scarred lip. “What do you want?”

Tomás steps into me, the glass bottle a buffer for his advance. “I want to know if you've been a good girl.” His eyes flash with the request. I curse the treacherous whimper that rushes past my fingers. “Well... have you?” He cocks an immaculate inky eyebrow at me.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say with a childish eye roll to help regain a fraction of resilience in this confusing situation. “I was bored stiff and spoke to an animal for most of the morning.”

His mouth curls at the corners to welcome a rare smile. My heart leaps when his cheek dimples behind the smattering of scruff he wears so well. I’m almost certain the energetic twinge in my chest is a broken rib from the fast pumping organ’s unruly attempt to reach him.

“While wearing this…” He pinches the strap close to my collar bone and runs his fingers down the elastic until it stops over the lace covering my proud nipple. We both recognize the shiver it gives me. “Forever the rebel.”

“I didn’t plan to go for a swim,” I say breathlessly. “It was a last minute decision.”

I notice how his nostrils flare and his featherlight touch turns more aggressive around my breast. “Tell me…” He squeezes and I turn molten against his touch. “What do you really want, Carina?”

“I told you…” I protest weakly, scared he’ll find out the truth I’m rapidly failing to hide. “I have to speak with my brother.”

His head shakes from side to side. “We both know that already. What you haven't told me is what you really want from me... right now.”

A long sigh shelters the soft moan I don't want him to seek satisfaction from. A blind man could tell his groping hand made my pulse react. The vein throbbing in my neck gives away my excitement. It’s simply physical, nothing more than the curiosity of a girl finally having the attention of a man.

“Kiss me.” His unexpected order snaps out like a horse bolting from its stable.

I sway, unsteady and shocked that he’d demand it from me when he’s the one always in control. He snares my arm, his tight grip locking me in place before him.

“Show me how you can be a good girl and kiss me with those tequila laced lips of yours.”

Despite the chill prickling every inch of bare flesh, my muscles’ resistance weakens. “Whether you'll admit it to yourself or not, I suspect that’s what you really want. You’ve been waiting for my dick all morning. My good little girl wants her king's dick inside her tight cunt. Am I right?”

We both know he’s right.

“You’re not my king,” I smirk. “And I’m not your obedient subject.”

A shadow passes over his features. For a split second, I fear he’s about to lash out with his own brutal attack of lips and hands.

“Instinct tells me differently,” he says, his tone rusty with limited control. I should know by now how he senses the lies spilling from my mouth like he’s a human lie detector. “Do it. Kiss me. Show me how much you’ve missed your king.”

I freeze when he releases my arm, leans sideways, and sets the liquor at the poolside. As he straightens, his presence looming over me again, my sight goes woozy with nerves. I habitually finger my scar to ground me and take a steadying breath.

In a daze of lust and fear, I inch into him and set my palms on smooth, taut muscle, instantly loving the glorious heat blazing from his skin to mine. This simple connection alone is erotic.

He’s waiting for me to make a move, restrained and disciplined. Perhaps it’s a test for us both. Either way, he demands obedience with this fake sense of control he’s giving me, or maybe he needs the kiss of life after a morning dispatching inglorious death.

He reads my thoughtful hesitation and growls, “Do not keep me waiting. Let your instincts kick in and show me what you want... now.”

Unconsciously, I tilt into him, his magnetism tugging me with an invisible strand. A shard of sunshine cracks the clouds, its beam splashing Tomás’ eyes so they glitter with sunny specks. The unusual new hue gives them a supernatural appearance, claiming a universe lives within him. I swallow and quickly look at my fingers before I lose myself in his fixed gaze.

His spine stiffens when my short nails trace the curvature of his pectoral muscle, leading to his pointed nipple. A wave of goosebumps crash over his tanned skin and I swear he shivers. I’ve never had the opportunity to explore a man's physique before and now that I’m allowed to freely skim his torso, I’m not disappointed.

I take my time to examine every curve and dip belonging to this man’s naked flesh before lifting my lashes to meet his white teeth trapping the plump expanse of his lower lip. He doesn’t shift position, the demon inside him contained for this fleeting moment in time.


Tags: Autumn Archer Romance