Page 62 of Wicked Heir

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“Why should it bother you? Nothing that came before matters.”

My words sent her shoulders inching up before she got a hold of her reactions. She tossed her hair, freshly washed and like a gleaming golden waterfall.“If you’re suggesting I’m jealous, you’re delusional.”

My amusement grew, balancing my annoyance. Molly was still Molly. She couldn’t help herself. Somehow, despite the life she’d led, it hadn’t broken her.

I pulled a long, pale pink gown out of the closet. It was satin and backless with two high slits up each side. I laid it on the bed.“You’re to wear this to dinner.”

She grimaced at the material and color. “Why? Because you know I’ll hate it?”

“Clever girl. Put it on.”

Molly ground her teeth and stared holes through my head. “Fine, whatever.” She watched me round the bed and settle into the leather armchair by the door.Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? Change,” I said, infusing my tone with a hint of the command I employed on a daily basis.

She flushed, a pretty pink color I wanted to remember forever. Turning from me, she reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Wiggling it off, she kept her back to me.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy now, Molly. I think we’re past that. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” I said, sounding bored when I was anything but. There would never be anything boring about Mallory’s magnificent body. I had ownership over her skin as it if was my own, and now she was back in my clutches, my possessiveness was raging like wildfire.

As expected, she tensed at my mocking words and turned to face me, letting her arms fall to her sides. Mallory didn’t know how to back down from a challenge, and fuck, if I didn’t love that about her.

A pink blush lit up her face and trailed down to her rosy nipples.“You’re right. You’ve been there and done it all before. So, you should be losing interest any day now. What will you do with me when I’ve served my sentence?”

The thought of letting her go, or her wanting me to, sent a shot of black anger through my mood. Molly noticed, and her smirk was triumphant as she slid down her loose pants and stepped out of them. She was completely bare beneath. While my blood had already been surging south, the sight of her standing naked before me sent renewed energy flowing around my body.

I stood, and she crossed her arms over her chest like that could keep me from her. I stalked slowly around the end of the bed, and she took a step back and then another. The wall came up behind her, and I raised my arms to cage her against the unyielding surface.

“Let’s see if you’re desperate for me to let you go,” I murmured, placing one hand on her sternum.

She shivered beneath my calloused hand, and her nipples contracted into hard points. I slid my hand slowly down her concave abdomen and between her legs. Her legs parted slightly as I burrowed my fingers through her damp curls, finding her as wet as I’d expected. I pulled my hand free before I could get carried away and brought it to her lips. Her eyes blazed, but she opened obediently for me. Fuck, it was a turn-on to have her capitulation.

“This is the taste of want, Mallory. This wetness is the taste of lies. You can’t lie to me. It’s too late for that. You love me, remember? And that simple truth is going to fuck you over for the rest of your days.”

She was breathing hard, her lips wet from my touch, and her eyes blazed with green fire. I rubbed my thumb across her plump lower lip before forcing myself toward the door. The truth was, I could spend all day tangling with Molly, but I shouldn’t. She was already pushing me, looking for ways in, cracks in my façade. She wanted to burrow into my heart like a poisoned dart and destroy me all over again. I couldn’t let her.

“Get ready. We eat in an hour.”

* * *

Molly enteredthe dining room an hour and a half later. Thirty fucking minutes she kept me waiting. Molly was determined to push me. It seemed she hadn’t gotten the message yet. Nearly killing her friends in front of her hadn’t brought it home that I wasn’t the teenage boy who’d worshipped the ground she’d walked on.

I’d become increasingly pissed off in the time she’d kept me waiting, and I’d almost finished a bottle of wine. I was wondering how to punish her for making me wait when she appeared wearing the gown. The expensive satin caressed her body, showing it to its full advantage. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her hard nipples winked at me as she walked toward the table.

“Well? I’m here,” she said, stopping beside the table. She narrowed her eyes at the setup. There was only a place setting for one. Me. “Am I to stand here while you eat?”

“There was a place setting. It was taken away when you made me wait. If you want to eat, you can sit here,” I told her calmly, patting my lap.

If looks could kill, I’d be a ghost a hundred times over.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” I deadpanned.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. Then she tossed her head and snorted. “Fine, whatever.”

She strode barefoot across the floor and turned, primly sinking onto my lap. The weight of her immediately pressed against my arousal. I couldn’t keep my head about this woman. I was painfully hard all the time.

“Happy?” Her voice was thick with tension and snark.


Tags: Mila Kane Erotic