The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

“Mercedes.” Judge’s voice is thick with warning as I try to pull away from him before we can even reach the car.

I know whatever punishment he has waiting for me at home won’t be pleasant, and right now, in my tipsy state of mind, I’m questioning if I can outrun him. The answer comes when I do break away from his grasp and nearly topple face-first into the sidewalk. Judge’s steely arm catches me from behind, hauling me back against him with little effort before he drags me back toward the Rolls Royce.

I resist him, trying like hell to pry him off me, but people are starting to stare, and humiliation burns me alive as I notice three familiar faces watching the scene unfold from the courtyard. Giordana, Dulce, and Vivien are all sipping from their flutes of champagne, their eyes glued to my face as they revel in my anguish. Those women are supposed to be my friends, but I can see now they never were. They made it obvious tonight when they didn’t even bother to ask where I’d been for all this time. Concern for my welfare was nonexistent in our brief conversation, and it was plain to me that they’d enjoyed my absence. That bitter truth stings, but if I can be grateful for one thing, it’s the indignation on Vivien’s face.

She has always carried a torch for Judge. I doubt he even knows she exists, but I can recall vividly how she’d try to get his attention at social events. How she’d pine over his dark, handsome features and his powerful, dominant personality. She had delusional dreams of converting him from a perpetual bachelor to her husband someday, and I can see now that I’ve inadvertently ruined that for her.

Maybe it’s my cold, black heart, or maybe it’s the alcohol circulating in my bloodstream. Whatever it makes me bold, and before I can overthink it, I thrust my palms against Judge’s chest without warning, slamming him back against the car. He grunts in surprise, and I swallow that sound when I press my body against his and capture his lips with mine.

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Society is all about appearances. Not only will this little display leave my frenemies with something to gossip about for weeks but it will also turn things around in my favor. If they think I want to be with him… that this is some kind of fiery, dysfunctional relationship, then I will be lauded by every Society daughter for claiming the one man who’s never dared to court anyone publicly. I’ll be a goddamn legend, and Judge will have to face the consequences of my very public exhibition.

His friends will raise eyebrows. Every eligible woman will whisper our names. They will question his morals. They will look at him with certain judgment, and he will know what it’s like to be on the receiving end for once.

Those are my best-laid plans. But when I drag my fingers through his hair and press my pelvis against his, feeling the length of his undeniably hard cock, Judge doesn’t break away as quickly as I anticipate. Instead, he seems to almost… freeze, as if he can’t help himself. He wants this, and that becomes ragingly evident when he groans into my mouth, his fingers clutching my hips possessively.

What started as a stunt evolves into something else, and my motives become background noise to the fire he stokes inside me when he deepens the kiss. I make a bold move, my tongue sweeping over his lips until he grants me entry and then sucks me inside with an agonized sound. I want to play that noise on repeat. I want to hear him make it again and again as he breaks every rule with me. But before I can make that happen, Judge seems to snap back to his senses. He pulls away on a ragged breath, his eyes darting around us before narrowing on me.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, little monster.”

I smile up at him sweetly, and he drags me into the car, slamming my ass onto the leather seat and forcefully buckling me in. By the time he’s got the door closed and plants himself next to me, I’ve already got my seat belt undone again.

I crawl onto his lap and grab his face, trying to take back control, snatching what I can’t admit I want. I can see him battling with himself, torn between giving in and holding on to the rules that govern us. He keeps telling himself he won’t ruin me, but I know he wants to, and more importantly, I want him to.

“Just give in,” I whisper against his lips as he tries and fails to secure both my wrists in his grasp.

I yank one of them away and shove it down between us, cupping the bulge in his trousers before I drag my fingernails over it, making him shudder.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“You just told everyone.” He growls. “Fucking Christ, Mercedes. What were you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I want to feel your cock inside me,” I murmur as I kiss my way along his jaw.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“You’re drunk,” he answers flatly as if that will stop this nonsense.

“And I’m wet, too.” I reach for the hem of my dress, trying to drag it up, but his hand catches mine in an iron grip, and he shakes his head.

“No.”

“No?” I taunt him. “What are you going to do about it?”

His eyes flash with what I’m certain are a few ideas, but I don’t give him space to breathe life into them.

“Give me what I want, or I’ll find someone who will.”

“Like hell, you will.” He releases my arm to grab my jaw, branding me with the heat of his fingers. “Think long and hard before you make those kinds of threats. Because I have no problem ending any man who tries to touch you.”

I think that’s supposed to scare me, but all it does is make him even hotter right now.

“Give me what I want.” I grind my hips against him. “Or so help me God, I will go up to my room tonight and finger myself so hard there will be nothing left of my virginity. Then when I’m lying in my marital bed, and my husband is fucking me with his hard cock-”

“Enough!” he roars, the blistering heat of his anger searing my lips. “You watch your goddamn mouth, Mercedes. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Is that an order, your honor?” I purr against him. “What will your verdict be if I don’t?”

“You don’t want to find out.” He releases my hands to pry me off and put me back into my seat, but I squeeze my thighs around him and resist.

“You said it yourself.” I stroke his erection with my palm, and his anger falters, eyes shuttering. “You’re going to give me away to another man. You’re going to hand me over yourself. Maybe I should invite you to stay for the wedding night so you can watch him fuck me. That will give you something to remember me by.”

His lips curl into a cruel smile. “What a good idea, little monster. You know two can play that game, right? Perhaps I should take you to the Cat House, and you can watch me fuck my favorite courtesans all night long. Watch the way they kneel before my cock, worship it, and then swallow my come-”

“Fuck you.” I shove against his chest, and this time, he captures me and hoists me back onto my side of the car without an ounce of gentility.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs darkly.

I turn to face the window, my jealousy eating me alive. I hate that he knows it. I hate that I don’t know if he means it. Just because he gave me his assurances once doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing to stop him from going to the Cat House every night and partaking in whatever or whoever delights him. I have to assume if he hasn’t been touching me, he must be getting his pleasure somewhere else. And even though I was the one to start this game, Judge quickly proved that he’s always going to be the one to finish it. Because he has all the power, and I am merely a pawn.