Wild Heir (Fated Royals Book 4)

by Nikolai Andrew

  “I have something for you.” He said, reaching inside his jacket and pulling something out. “You really must stop losing it…”

  “Oh my gosh!” It was my turn for tears. In his hand was my silver cigarette case, lost once again I feared for good as the last time I remembered seeing it was when Vasile and I packed our few belongings to leave his manor and were intercepted by Petre and his gang. “Thank you.” I mouthed as Natasha turned to look at Vasile then back at me.

  “Precious things sometimes slip away.” My friend said with a soft smile. “But, things that truly belong to us, always return. Don’t they Mr. Vasile?”

  Vasile nodded. “They do. Indeed they do.”

  Chapter 27

  Vasile

  She stood in front of me in her wedding dress. So much stronger now after two months of recovery, I thought as I gripped my knife in my hand. Strong enough to take anything I chose to give her.

  When I’d removed her blindfold, I ordered her to close her eyes and keep them closed, but I could tell it was fucking killing her.

  The anticipation.

  The unknown.

  Her excited breaths made her cleavage rise and fall against her white jeweled corset and a red flush covered her neck and cheeks. She looked fucking beautiful, more perfect than ever before, because now she was more than my possession, my cocksleeve, my Queen.

  And, finally, she was also my motherfucking wife.

  I took a step toward her and pressed the blade against her white satin gown. Our wedding had been small, simple—no church, no bullshit. Just our parents, Natasha, Daniel and the priest.

  As soon as we were alone after the ceremony, I’d blindfolded her.

  Kidnapped her all over again.

  We’d ridden hard, all day in my carriage, and now here we were at the coast, in a mansion I’d bought her, overlooking the sea. But she didn’t know any of that yet, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered now, here, was her pleasure. Her pain.

  Though her eyes were still shut, the pressure of my knife startled her. Her long lashes fluttered slightly against her cheeks.

  I growled at her as a warning. “Don’t you fucking disobey me. Keep them closed. Or else what?”

  “Or else,” she said, exhaling to calm herself. “Or else I don’t get to worship that cock.”

  “And is that what you want?”

  She nodded and moaned a yes.

  “Then fucking beg me for it.”

  Valeria swallowed, a nervous gulp.

  “Please let me have your cock, my king. Let me show you. Let me serve you.”

  Goddamn. She knew my sweet spots and how to push them.

  Obedience. Fear. Pleasure. Servitude.

  “Such a good little girl,” I growled, increasing the pressure on the blade.

  I pressed the tip of the knife against her thigh and drew it upward so that it tugged at the fabric. Teasing her, tempting her, making her wonder what the fuck was going to happen next. Her breathing quickened as I stepped closer, licking a line up her pretty neck, letting her feel my stubble against her flesh. And all the while increasing the pressure of the blade.

  “Know what that is?” I asked her.

  She furrowed her brows, then shook her head. “I don’t think so…”

  “Yes or no?” I growled against her pretty little ear.

  She smelled fucking amazing. As I breathed her in, my cock grew painfully hard in my pants. I embraced that ache. The harder my dick, the harder the fuck. She was in for the ride of her goddamned life tonight.

  “No,” she gasped.

  “Part your legs,” I told her. “Wide enough to spread yourself.”

  She obeyed immediately, without question. Glancing down, I saw her bare feet peeking out from the hem of her dress.

  When they were shoulders’ width apart, I reached out and gripped her throat, drawing her jaw up slightly to keep her neck taut and her back rigid.

  I fucking loved that, the way she looked in that instant, when she felt my grip against her throat. The way her breathing changed, the way her lips tightened and her nostrils flared. Primal fear in the palm of my hand.

  Still gripping my knife, I rotated it so that the blade faced downward. With the back of my hand, I pushed against her pubic bone, sliding my wrist down until I had put pressure against her clit. Her quick inhalation of surprise told me what I already knew. I’d have been able to find my way to her pussy no matter what, no matter when. I rubbed my knuckle against her, making her moan a little, misdirecting her from what I was about to do.

  In one quick slash, I plunged the knife into the gap between her legs and cut a slit through her wedding gown. She gasped in surprise, and then melted into me as I slid two fingers inside her.

  “A knife,” she moaned. “That was a knife.”

  Not just any fucking knife.

  “This is the knife,” I said. “The one you held to my throat, Princess.”

  She smiled and bit her tongue. She adored that word, so I used it sparingly. But seeing her smile made me fucking smile, too.

  “You loved that,” she said.

  I flicked my fingers against her opening, making her pussy squelch with its own wetness—such a juicy, dirty, beautiful sound.

  “Feels like I’m not the only one.”

  Without warning, I penetrated her hard with my fingers, letting the blade handle grind against her clit, and then yanked my hand from the gap in her skirt, seized her by the back of the neck, turned her around, and bent her over the balcony where we stood. With quick, precise slices of the blade, I cut the ribbons of her corset. I tossed it aside and then sliced off her skirt, as well as her panties and underthings, shredding it all until she stood there in front of me, naked, panting, with her dripping-wet pussy inviting me inside.

  Kneeling behind her, I ate her out from behind, burying my face in her sweet ass and plunging my tongue into her cunt. Once I felt her relax into it, I stopped and stepped away. She began to straighten up, but I clicked my tongue at her, same as I would do to correct my mare.

  In response to the correction, she nodded, gripping the railing and letting her gorgeous honey-colored hair fall down between her outstretched arms.

  With my foot, I dragged a chair away from the big table near where she stood. Sitting down, I took my glass of champagne and took her in.

  My wife, Princess Valeria Valentine-Greengallow, standing in front of me, buck naked in front of the ocean, with her pink pussy spread. I might not be an actual king, but I was pretty motherfucking close right then and there.

  “Turn around,” I told her. “Look at me.”

  She did as she was asked, opening her eyes for the first time since we arrived. Her glance darted side to side and she smiled, a little confused.

  “Where are we? I could smell the sea and I knew it was warm, but…”

  “All yours,” I said, parting my legs to give my aching balls and cock a little more room. “When the winters get too tough, we’ll come down here.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she glanced around the big room. “This whole place? Is ours?”

  “Fuck yes, it is,” I told her as I set down my glass of champagne. “But all that can wait. Right now, I need you to focus on what’s really important.” I reached down and adjusted my hard-on.

  Her expression became serious and her eyes fell to the bulge in my lap.

  “Good. Now get on your fucking knees. Crawl to me. Do it well, make me happy, and you might get to feel my cum down your throat.”

  She didn’t obey, not right away, but instead slid her hands down her body, rolling like a belly dancer as she caressed herself.

  “If I’m lucky I get to suck your royal cock, is that the deal? But what about me, handsome? What about this?” she asked, pinching her nipples, pursing her lips, then parting her lower lips to see that deep pink slash of tender flesh between her legs.

  She knew her powers and she knew exactly how to use them. But this was no time to let her explore her st
rength.

  “Don’t you fucking sass me,” I said, and flicked my fingers to tell her to get the fuck over here.

  She answered with a sexy little giggle, and then dropped to her hands and knees. She rolled her neck gracefully, making her hair slip over one shoulder. With careful, almost feline steps, she crawled her way out of her ruined wedding gown and over to me, never taking her eyes off of me even once. Once she was in front of me, I raised my eyebrow at my pants and flicked my chin at her.

  “You know what to do, Princess. Worship that cock.”

  “Finally,” she whispered as she got to work on my belt and fly.

  Slowly, reverently almost, she pulled my dick out of my boxers.

  With her eyes raised to me, she gathered up a mouthful of spit and let it drizzle down over the head and shaft. She licked up and down its length, letting the tip rub against her cheek and chin. Taking the shaft in her fist, she worked my length with her hand while she slid her head down—still with her eyes locked on mine—and took my balls in her mouth one at a time.

  “Fuck,” I growled up at the ceiling, letting myself relax into the chair.

  Once she had me good and wet, a drop of precum spilled from the head, which she licked up on a moan of pleasure, finally closing her eyes as she tasted my seed for the first time that day. I reached forward to take her chin in my hand, gently rubbing her cheek with the pad of my thumb as she twirled her tongue around the tip, teasing the head.

  “You ready?” I asked her.

  Her eyes were languid, slow with need and desire. “Yes,” she said. “Ready.”

  “Good. Remember to breathe,” I reminded her.

  Leaning forward slightly, I knitted my hand into the hair at the back of her head and guided her mouth down onto me, keeping her head steady against my length. Half my dick slid into her mouth easily and I growled at the way her lips tightened, creating tension and intensity.

  Once I was all the way in her mouth, as far as she could take me comfortably, she glanced up at me, and nodded once to tell me she was ready for more. Using gentle but steady force, I pressed her head down until I felt my tip penetrate her throat. Her gag reflex bucked her back but she fought through it. I didn’t push her further, not yet, and felt so fucking proud when I felt her body relax.

  She was learning and learning fast. Taking my cock deep, listening to my pleasure over her most basic instincts?

  “What a perfect little slut you are for me.”

  I felt her smile against my cock more than a saw it. My words had the effect I’d intended, and coaxed her out of her gag reflex further and further. She took me deep into her throat, so fucking deep, in a blowjob that was messy and tearful and wet.

  Fucking perfect.

  Fucking heaven.

  But before I felt ready to shoot my cum halfway down her throat, I stopped her midway down my shaft. She glanced up at me, panicked almost, as I forced her way down onto my cock, and then yanked her off of me. She sucked in a desperate breath and her eyes filled up with tears, as she laughed at herself a little.

  “Sorry,” she said, wiping away the tears.

  “Don’t be,” I told her. “Because I’ll tell you this: you never look more beautiful than when you’re gagging on my dick. And you will always be my equal, even when you’re on your knees.”

  She smiled that world-stopping smile of hers and cleaned some of her thick saliva off of the tip. Once she was done cleaning me up, she rested her chin on the head of my cock, and looked up at me for her next order.

  I didn’t give her one. Instead I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over to the bed, laying her down on her back, heels to the edge of the mattress.

  “Now it’s my fucking turn to kneel for you, beautiful,” I said, as I took my place between her legs with my mouth on her pussy.

  She whimpered when I teased her clit between my teeth. With one hand on each of her inner thighs, I pushed her legs back, opening up her slit wide to expose all of her to my tongue and lips.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her grip the sheets in her fists. I knew what she wanted, but I knew that she was too obedient to ask. Letting go of her thighs for one second, I grabbed her hands and put them on the back of my head, where she always liked them to be.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through my hair.

  I ate her out like a starving man, plunging my tongue inside her sometimes, other times teasing the edges of her clit. I knew what she really wanted, and after a while I gave it to her, using the back of my tongue to flatten out her clit against her pubic bone, rolling it against her to vary the pressure without ever losing contact.

  “Oh my god,” she said, slapping the mattress with one hand. “I’m going to…”

  Before she even said the word I’d pushed her over the edge. And come she did, a roaring and aggressive orgasm that made her body buck like a fucking wild thing. Her thighs tightened on either side of my head but I fought her, forcing her legs back and making her funnel all that fury through her cunt and into my mouth.

  For the first time ever, she squirted for me as she came, shooting that honey sweetness into my mouth in a few delicious pumps.

  “Goddamn, I am one lucky motherfucker,” I snarled at her as I rose up to standing and put my cock at her opening.

  She was still writhing from her orgasm, and I stilled her with my hand on her throat. At the same time, I penetrated her hard and ruthlessly, with no warning at all. She sobbed with both pleasure and pain as I fucked her, and I felt those sobs in my hand through her throat as much as I heard them for myself. It was fucking intoxicating, taking her to this place where she was out of control, knowing that I, and only I, would ever have the power to take her there. And bring her back whole.

  I fucked her so hard that tears brimmed in her eyes. Every thrust made my balls swell even more, my cock ache even harder.

  I loved her so much I wanted to destroy her, and I knew that the very next word out of her mouth would be stop. Just when I knew she was at her breaking point I caged her in with my arms and flipped her, so that she was on top.

  She was a fucking beautiful mess, there on top of me, her skin red from my hands, her hair all tangled, her makeup smudged like some naughty little whore. She’d never looked more beautiful. And I’d never wanted to shoot my seed inside her more than I did right then, right there.

  Without missing a beat, she began to ride me, pulling herself together and finding her power once again as she did.

  Slowly, she found her rhythm. Slower than I liked, gentler, but fucking hot even still. She tucked her sweet little toes up, so that the tops of her feet pressed against the tops of my thighs.

  For a long time she rode me like that, slow and gentle, knowing full well that it wouldn’t get me to orgasm. But it made me fucking crazy all the same. It got me so close that it pissed me off and she knew that. And enjoyed it. Reveled in that power of owning me, just as much as I owned her.

  With a roll of her hips, she lowered herself all the way down onto me, until the tip of my cock compressed against her cervix, sending a shockwave of pleasure up through my balls and into my abdomen.

  She looked me in the eye, clenched my cock with every ounce of strength in her god-given pussy, and said, “Do your fucking job and come for me. Right now.”

  Holy fuck. Those words. That attitude.

  My orgasm caught me completely off guard. Since the beginning, I’d been fucking powerless against her—now, more than ever before.

  “You little brat,” I growled as I shot my hot cum into her sinfully tight little cunt. “You perfect fucking brat.”

  The next morning, I pressed into her from behind before she was even awake. Fucking her into consciousness, I held her close, going slow, being gentle, keeping her close and safe. She inhaled slowly, sighing as she realized what I was doing.

  “Hello, husband,” she said, soft and sweet. She was facing away from me, but I could still see her cheek pinch with a smile.
Pulling her closer, I nestled my jaw against her and kissed her neck. I looped my arm around her hips and she tucked her knees, giving me better access into that pussy that I craved so fucking much.

  “Sleep alright?” I asked her, flexing my ass to get deeper inside and relenting only once I felt my balls brush the back of her thighs.

  “Did we sleep?” she said, her voice all sleepy and sexy.

  “Nah, but who fucking needs it?” I asked, as I nibbled her earlobe. “I don’t need to drink. I don’t need to eat. The only thing I need to survive is you.”

  She laughed softly, hardly more than a wrinkle of her nose and a shiver of her body. But it was enough to draw me out of my early-morning brooding intensity. If she was happy, I was happy. Easy as that.

  Keeping my left arm tight against her breasts, I slid my right arm down her body and found her clit with my fingers. I kept my thrusts steady and regular as I stimulated her clit, feeling it swell between my fingertips. As her breaths became less regular, more jagged, I knew she was getting close. Every time I brought her to ecstasy, I could feel her trusting me to guide her more and more. That was exactly where I wanted her to be; I needed her to know, in her soul, that I understood her pleasure, better even than my own.

  “I’ve got you,” I growl-whispered against the shell of her ear. “So just fucking let go.”

  She surrendered then to me, completely, dissolving into my arms and letting herself ride the pleasure that I was giving her. Before long, she was coming strong but soft, gripping and then releasing my dick with wave after wave of her orgasm.

  Once she was finished, I stayed inside her, holding her close and feeling her drift off to sleep. But then a knock came at the door—it was one that I expected, but she didn’t. She jumped in my arms and groaned at the interruption.

  Normally, I’d have been pissed as well. But this time was different. The surprise behind the door wasn’t just breakfast; it was something that I’d wanted her to have from the first second I saw her. Something she and she alone deserved.