The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

With the assistance of a few more glasses of wine, we fall into a much less stilted conversation during dinner. The judge is mostly a silent observer from his seat, his fingers trailing over my shoulder as my friends pepper me with questions and then catch me up on the latest happenings in their own lives.

They explain how they’ve been trying to bring attention to my disappearance but have been blocked at every turn. Their inferences don’t escape my notice. If they didn’t believe I was connected to some type of powerful organization before, this seems to confirm it.

“I mean how the hell do the police just make something like that disappear?” Solana questions. “Then there are the lawyers. What kind of lawyer turns down money? And don’t get me started on the private investigators we hired. One of them just seemed to evaporate into thin air.”

I dart a glance at Judge, and he squeezes my shoulder in a silent warning that now isn’t the time to talk about that. He can’t seem to stop sizing up Georgie, and I know that’s what’s been on his mind throughout dinner as he observes us.

“How is business?” I ask Georgie and Solana, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Fine.” Solana waves her hand dismissively. “We’ve been too focused on you to worry about that.”

“When can we see you again?” Georgie meets Judge’s gaze as he directs the question to me. “Outside of this house. Everyone misses you at aerial class.”

Judge’s fingers stop moving against my shoulder, and I hate that I’m waiting for him to speak, but there’s no point in trying to supply an answer myself.

“She can come as soon as she’s feeling up to it,” he says. “I’ll take her personally.”

This seems to irk Georgie, but Solana is trying to read between the lines.

“What does that mean, when you’re feeling up to it?”

“It’s nothing.” I shrug half-heartedly. “I’ve just been a little under the weather.”

Again, Judge’s hand tenses on me, and then he gently massages my shoulder as if he’s trying to give me some sort of silent apology. Georgie and Solana don’t miss it, their eyes lasering in on the action.

“Are you guys together?” Solana asks.

“No,” I answer at the same time Judge says, “Yes.”

I glare at him, and he shrugs. This interaction only seems to confuse Solana and Georgie more.

“It’s nothing serious,” I tell them through clenched teeth. “Judge doesn’t do serious, isn’t that right?” I shoot him a look that betrays my annoyance. “He can have his fun, and I can too.”

The gentle stroke of his fingers turns to stone as he drags his palm to the nape of my neck and squeezes. I smile as Solana clears her throat awkwardly.

“Good, then I guess that means you can resume date nights with me,” Georgie challenges.

Oh, shit.

I offer him a nervous laugh, but the tension radiating from Judge serves as a warning I need to wrap this up before he changes his mind about everything.

“Let’s circle back to that another time.” I force a yawn. “It’s getting late, and I know we all have to be up early.”

They both look dismayed by that statement, knowing I’m typically a night owl.

“What do you have to be up early for?” Solana asks.

“She has a long day of riding tomorrow,” Judge supplies, his tone dripping with overt insinuation.

“Riding.” Georgie scoffs.

“Yes.” Judge looks at me, his gaze scorching. “She loves to ride.”

Oh, God, this is getting out of hand.

I stand abruptly, tossing my napkin onto the table. “Yes, well… shall I walk you to the door?”

Reluctantly, Solana and Georgie rise from their seats.

“What about your number?” Georgie asks. “Can’t forget that.”

“No, we certainly can’t.” Judge grouses as he removes a slip of paper from his pocket and makes a point to hand it directly to Solana.

After that awkward standoff, they both begrudgingly thank him for dinner, and I walk them to the door as promised.

“Are you sure you’re okay here?” Solana asks. “You can come with us.”

“We can protect you too,” Georgie assures me. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m okay.” I offer them both a grateful smile, warmed by their genuine concern for me. “But thank you for the offer. Don’t forget to text me.”

“Girl, I’m texting you before I even leave the driveway,” Solana jokes. “And I wasn’t kidding. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming back.”

I nod. Even though I probably should tell her not to, I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I love you guys,” I whisper.

“We love you too.” They squeeze me in another long hug, and after more quiet tears, I reluctantly usher them out the door, staring at them until Judge’s presence behind me makes me shiver.

“You did well.” He strokes my hair over my shoulder, his tone approving.

I pull away from him and turn around, crossing my arms as I glare at him.

“We’re together, Judge? Really? Why would you tell them that?”

His silent response only irritates me further, and I think that’s all I can expect from him, but then he surprises me.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He lowers his face to mine, trying to ensnare me in a kiss, and I jerk away, only for him to grab my jaw. He holds me in place, his lips hovering over mine, the heat between us an inferno I can’t understand.

“I’ve been inside you.” His words heat my lips as he palms my ass with his other hand. “Only me.”

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it.” I smile up at him callously. “Because it was the first and the last time.”

“I enjoyed it very much.” The words sound like a confession, and it confuses me. “I think you did too.”

He presses his thigh between my legs, nudging them apart, and I try to shake my head in protest. “No.”

“Yes.” His fingers skate down to the hem of my dress, and then against my bare thigh. “Even now, you enjoy it.”

I hate that he’s right. I hate that my heart is beating erratically and my stomach is fluttering, and I’m secretly wishing for more all while hating myself for it. But I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

“I don’t want sloppy seconds.” I press my hands against his chest and shove hard, surprising him as he stumbles back slightly.

It gives me the time I need to put much-needed distance between us as I dart toward the stairs, running back to the safety of my room. But Judge isn’t far behind. I can hear the clip of his shoes on the floor before his voice caresses my back.

“Mercedes.”

I ignore him as I fling myself through the doorframe, nearly tripping on my heels in the process as I attempt to slam the door in his face. He catches it with his palm, stopping the weight easily before he shoves it back open.

“I fucking hate you,” I snarl at him.

“So you’ve said.” A soft smile curves his lips. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself.”

He stalks toward me, and I move back, the predator and the prey.

“You can’t have me,” I tell him. “Stop trying.”

“I do have you.” He seizes me by the waist and holds me in an unyielding grasp, his words humming against my neck as he inhales me. “You just don’t know it yet.”

A feeble protest leaves my lips as he kisses me, rough and possessive. He’s not handling me delicately anymore. And as much as I know I should stop this, I don’t. Not even a little bit.

I moan as his tongue invades my mouth, and he drinks my shallow breaths as they own him. I want to believe it’s true, even for a second.

“Judge,” I plead, my nipples stabbing against my dress, my body aching for something I can’t quite articulate.

“I know.” He shoves my dress up over my hips and then hoists me up into his arms, carrying me over to the bed.

I’m somewhere between trying to find the will to argue and the need to give in when he sets me down on the edge of the mattress and kneels before me. And fuck, it’s a beautiful sight to have this powerful man brought to his knees by his want for me. But the thought enters my mind, and I can’t stop it. How many other women has he done this with? Who did he do this with last night?

“Judge,” the protest leaves my lips as he slips my thong over my ass and slides it down over my legs, careful not to entangle it on my heels before he removes it.

His palms come to rest on my thighs, spreading me apart, and I know I need to stop this insanity. I dig my fingers into his hair and he groans, sending a cascade of sparks through my body. But I still can’t forget.

“Tell me her name,” I demand.

“Who?” He kisses his way up my thighs, dragging his nose along my skin and inhaling me deeply.

A breath blows through my lips, and I shake my head, trying not to let him distract me.

“The name of the courtesan you like to fuck.”

He ignores me, continuing his sensual assault on my inner thighs as he slowly works his way inward, closer to the point of no return. But I can’t let him. I need to hear him say it.

“Tell me.” I tighten my grip on his hair. “Or so help me God, I will fuck every man who comes near me. I can assure you they won’t be hard to come by. I doubt Paolo or Raul would refuse-”

“Goddammit, Mercedes.” He nips at my thigh, and I yelp. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

I try to shove him away, but he just yanks me closer, my ass hanging off the bed as he stares straight into the glistening depths of what he already knows belongs to him.

“There is no fucking courtesan,” he growls. “Are you satisfied?”

“That’s not what you told me-” A strangled sigh chokes my words as his tongue lashes against me. “Oh, God.”

“Only I get this.” He swirls his tongue around my clit, setting off fireworks in my belly. “Say it.”

“You say it first,” I pant. “Tell me why you’re such a fucking liar.”

“You know why I said it,” he growls. “And you believed it so easily. Fucking Christ, Mercedes. Why would I go to the Cat House when I can have you?”

His words warm me, even though they shouldn’t. It doesn’t make it any better. It proves he’s not only a liar but also a hypocrite. Saying he can have me when all he does is push me away. Those thoughts are almost enough to douse me in cold reality, but Judge’s hot tongue lashing against me makes everything else evaporate.

“Fucking say it,” he commands. “This pussy belongs to me and only me.”

“For now,” I remind him, throwing the words he loves to use back in his face. “And only because of forced proximity.”

Without warning, he yanks me against his face, burying his tongue inside me so deep I see a glimpse of heaven. Oh, Jesus, he’s good at that.

Any other smart-ass remarks I might have had are lost to the sound of him eating me out. He’s feasting on me like a God, and I can’t help but give in to it.

“Lawson,” I whimper as he tortures me.

He freezes at the mention of his real name, and I freeze too. Our eyes lock and something passes between us, but I can’t identify it. It’s too powerful. Too intense to be constrained by words.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Lawson,” I repeat in a breathy voice.

“Yes.” He hums his approval against me and returns to his task.

I squirm against him, closing my eyes and panting all while I hold him by the hair, a desperate heat crawling up the base of my spine and soaking into every nerve ending in my body. That heat builds and builds as I watch him devour me, and there’s no question in my mind I’m hungry for more. So much more.

But all too soon, the pleasure reaches a peak, and I fall hard, jerking against his face as I come. Judge gives me one last lingering lick up the seam of my pussy before he nuzzles his nose against me with a sigh. And I know he’s trying to gather his strength. A war I refuse to fight him on anymore. If he wants to get on his knees and pleasure me, so be it. I won’t beg him for his cock again no matter how much I might want it.

He leans back on his haunches, glances up at me, and licks my come from his lips. Heat curls in my chest, flushing my skin as my eyes move over him, hot and hungry. This thing between us feels out of control, and I know one of us needs to be smart enough to put a stop to it. So I decided it was going to be me.

“I want the phone you promised Solana and Georgie I would have.”

He blinks, dragged away from his thoughts as I shove my dress back down and force myself to act unbothered by what just happened.

“It’s already on the dresser,” he tells me. “I delivered it this afternoon while you were napping.”

My eyes move to the dresser, relief swelling when I see he’s not lying.

“It’s for your friends,” he reiterates. “That number is only for them.”

“And Santi,” I challenge.

His eyes darken, and I don’t like whatever it is I see in them, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“Does he know what happened?” I ask. “Did he come to visit me?”

There’s a long, heavy silence that passes before he sighs and shakes his head. Something in his demeanor changes completely, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

“Did you tell him?” I hate the edge of pain I can’t hide in my voice.

“No,” he answers solemnly. “I didn’t.”

“Of course not.” I stand and try to skirt around him, desperate to lock myself in the bathroom. But he grabs my arm and stops me.

“I didn’t tell him because something happened, Mercedes.”

His words stop me cold, and I jerk my gaze back to him, dread curdling my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Ivy,” he says gently. “She had an accident. She’s in the hospital, and they don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

I stagger into him, nearly collapsing in his arms before he catches me with a muttered curse.

“How?” I croak. “How is that possible? I have to talk to him. I have to… oh, God. Is the baby okay?”

Judge gives me an uncertain glance. “I don’t know. There’s a lot we still don’t know. They’re trying to figure it out. But Santiago isn’t in the frame of mind to answer those questions.”

A sharp ache pierces my chest, expanding outward as I come to understand the gravity of the situation. I don’t like Ivy. I don’t want to like her, at least. But there is one thing I can’t deny. My brother loves her. He sacrificed his revenge for her, forsaking our father and brother to have his own family with the enemy. I hated him for it. I resented her even more. But right now, I can feel his pain as if it were my own. As if I can finally understand what it might be like for him to have those things snatched away so coldly. He can’t go through that kind of loss again. I know he won’t survive it.

“She has to be okay,” I whisper, true regret settling over me for the first time since I began my campaign of torment against her. “She has to.”

“I know.” Judge wraps me in his arms, brushing his palm over the length of my back. “I know, sweetheart.”