The Ruthless Heir

Judge’s [POV]

It takes all I have not to shove Clifton out the door. Truth be told, I feel sorry for him. Mercedes and I both used him tonight.

But as soon as he’s gone, I take the stairs two at a time, and on the landing, I watch Mercedes. She’s only halfway down the hall because she must have been eavesdropping. Her hands are fists as she walks angrily to my room.

“You don’t want me, but you won’t let me go, either,” she accuses me as soon as I’m inside and I’ve closed the door behind me. “You play with me like I’m a fucking yo-yo, and I’m done!” She stalks into my closet to start pulling out her clothes and tossing them onto the floor in her rage.

I grab her arm and spin her to face me. “What the fuck was that?”

She tugs free and shoves me with both hands. Sadly for her, she can’t budge me, so she takes a step back to put space between us.

“That was me trying to get a husband. Remember that little thing, Judge? All good Society girls need a man to manage them. You’ve made it very fucking clear that you don’t want me. Like I told you the last time we talked fucking weeks ago before you did what you do best and disappeared. Again.”

“You think your behavior was appropriate tonight?”

“What? I can’t flirt with a man I’m attracted to?”

“You’re not attracted to him!”

“No? How do you know?”

“Because I know your type.”

“And what’s that? A big giant bully who likes to humiliate me again and again and fucking again?”

“I keep you away for your good.”

“You just keep telling yourself you’re doing this all for me. You just wasted my chance.”

“What chance? You’d marry that man? That boy? He’s at the bottom of his class. His family isn’t exactly swimming in money. What do you think he wants out of a marriage with you?”

“Unlike you, I don’t fool myself, Judge. I know I won’t marry for love-”

“Love?”

“Yes. Love. And I’m sure that sounds pathetic to someone like you. And really, how can I blame you? I have a history. Does Mercedes De La Rosa even have the capacity to love? I’m a fucking ice queen without feelings. Isn’t that what they all say? I had a chance tonight!”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And don’t forget you’re the one who invited him.”

“After I saw your text-”

“You what?” She stops, her eyes narrowing to slits, fists clenched so tight her whole body is shaking. “You fucking asshole!” She flies at me, hands like claws.

I catch her when she hurls her weight into me.

“This is what I mean! You run too hot. The fire inside you would be wasted on a man like that,” I tell her as she draws one arm back to slap me. I take the sting of it as she rages, all nails and fists and fury. I spin her, throw her onto the bed and grip her wrists at her lower back. She wriggles to get free. “You think you’d be happy with someone like Clifton fucking Phillips?” Switching her wrists into one hand, I take hold of the top of her dress with the other and rip it straight down the middle. “You think you could ever be satisfied with someone like that? You think he’s your match in any way?” I tear away the string that barely qualifies as panties.

“What’s the matter, Judge?” She twists her neck to look back at me. “You don’t want someone touching what’s yours? Temporarily, I might add. Can’t stomach the idea of me getting off on someone else’s dick? Get the fuck off me!”

I look around, half mad with rage and jealousy and God knows what, and see her lotion on the nightstand. I reach for it, keeping hold of her wrists as I do, and flip the top open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asks when I squeeze a healthy amount onto her lower back.

I undo my belt and slacks, pushing them down only as far as I have to to free my cock. Scooping up the lotion, I smear it over my dick, then lift her by her hips, digging my fingers into tender flesh to keep her in position. I push her knees apart with my own and look down at her.

“I’m giving you what you want,” I tell her.

“At least be honest with yourself. You want it, too. You want me. The difference between us is that you can’t stand yourself for it.”Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

I don’t answer her. Instead, I brush my thumb over her tight hole. She stiffens. But it’s when I push against it that her eyes go wide and she realizes how I intend to take her.

“Judge!”

I meet those eyes with a grin. “Try to relax.” I release her wrists and grip her ass cheeks, splaying her wide. Fuck, she’s so beautiful. “It’ll be easier for you to take me in your tight little ass if you relax.” I shift my gaze back to hers. “And you will take me. All of me.”

“Judge, you can’t-”

She sucks in a breath as I guide the head of my cock into her. She’s tight. Too tight.

“You’ll tear me in two!” She fists the sheets. I think she’s trying to crawl away.

I slap her hip. “I said relax.” I push in, resisting the urge to thrust into her, groaning at the tight squeeze of her passage on my cock.

“Oh, God. I can’t. I…”

I slip one hand around to her clit as I push deeper, watching my cock disappear inside her.

“You’re going to kill me,” she manages more quietly.

Leaning over her, I bite the curve of her shoulder. “I’m going to make you come hard, little monster.” With that, I thrust into her, unable to hold back any longer.

She cries out, and I have to haul her hips back up. I draw out and thrust again.

“Please!”

“Shh. You can take me, Mercedes.” I make myself still and rub her clit, savoring the feel of her.

She lays her cheek down with a moan in a sort of surrender.

“Good. That’s good. Just relax.”

Her slickness coats my fingers, and all I can think is I need to come inside her. I need it. She whimpers, and I lay my body over hers and kiss her temple, holding her tight to me. Her eyes go glassy. I kiss her cheek, her eyelid, and the corner of her mouth as I feel her from the inside, owning her.

“It feels… I’m going to come,” she manages, her breath catching. Gripping a handful of hair, I haul her up so her back is to my front. She closes her hands over my thighs, murmuring words I can’t make out as I kiss her, continuing to push into her.

“Do you feel what happens to me when I’m inside you? What did you fucking do to me? The thought of that man touching you, of any man touching you, makes me fucking crazy.”

Her gaze flicks to mine, and she licks her lips.

“But you like hearing that, don’t you, little monster?” I close my teeth over the pulse at her neck, then push her back down onto her hands and knees and watch myself fuck her, taking this other piece of her.

She whimpers, then closes her eyes and begins to meet my thrusts. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Sweat from my forehead drips onto her back, and I want to fuck her like this all night. Because it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. I’ll never get enough of her. And when she fists the sheets and shudders around me, the tremors are too much, and I come too, pinning her with my weight and holding her tight as I empty inside her.

When it’s over and we’ve still, both of us panting, I push the hair from her face and kiss her temple, which is damp with sweat. I listen to her breathe, lifting some of my weight off her.

She mutters my name, the sound sad. A little broken.

I pull out slowly, and she trembles when I lift off altogether. I put the blanket over her and go into the bathroom to wash up and return with a warm washcloth. I sit on the bed beside her and clean her. She’s quiet and still.

“I lose control with you, Mercedes. Every time. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t fucking give you up. I just don’t know how to keep you.”

She turns to look up at me with wet eyes and sits up drawing her knees to her chest, gaze drifting away from me as her forehead creases. I try to brush her hair back from her face, but she pushes my hand away before shifting her gaze to me.

“You’re right,” she says, and something in the way she sounds makes my chest tighten. “I wouldn’t ever be happy with someone like Clifton Phillips. I know that. But I can’t do this anymore either. It’s too much, and I can’t.”

I open my mouth to answer but my phone rings. We both turn to look at it, and Mercedes’s breath catches when she sees it’s Santiago.

“Mercedes-” I start, but she shakes her head, grabs the phone, and answers it.

“Santi? Is the baby okay? Is Ivy?”

I hear the rumble of his voice, but I can’t make out the words.

Mercedes presses a fist to her mouth, tears suddenly pouring from her eyes. I take the phone from her.

“Santiago? What is it? What’s happened?”

“She woke up. Ivy woke up.”