The Perfect Heir by Monique Moreau

Author:Monique Moreau [Moreau, Monique]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Monique Moreau Imprint

15

Tatum

Raw ownership pounded through me. I didn’t expect much out of life. Nothing had been handed to me on a silver platter, and being dogged with secrets my entire life, I knew that my world could implode at any time. But the moment I’d taken Clara’s virginity would be etched in my memory, in my fucking body and soul, forever. If I didn’t have to stay alive to protect her and the women in my family, I could’ve died a happy man right then and there.

I’d battled her and won her surrender. Broke her apart and put her back together. Her utter and total abandon was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Ever seen a queen surrender? Well, I had, and I was an addict after the first hit. I yearned to see her break, time and again. And I would. There was no way she was getting away from me now.

Cuddling her into me, I draped myself around her like a wrapper around a sweet piece of candy. Her honeyed hair, with streaks of sunlight and gold, spread over my chest like streamers. Her fragrance, the beach scent of the hot sand and salty seawater of California enveloped me. She smelled like the warm, sunny future.

Eventually, she stirred in my arms, saying she had to use the bathroom, and I reluctantly loosened my hold on her.

She slid to the edge of the mattress, slipped down, and landed on her feet. Her knees wobbled like a newborn foal. Abruptly, she crumpled to the floor, her naked thigh hitting the carpet with a harsh thud. She let out a cry, a tear tracking down her cheek. Horrified, I jumped from the bed to help her.

The dominant and perfectionist inside me railed against what had happened. Her adrenaline spiked and now her body was crashing. I knew I’d broken her wide open, but this confirmed it. I should’ve known it’d been too soon for her to get up on her own. Scooping her up, I seated her gently on the bed, positioned myself with my back to the headboard, and dragged her over my lap. Securing her to my chest, I snagged a blanket and covered her naked, trembling body.

Then I breathed evenly, shushing her gently, praising her as beautiful, as my good girl. The last compliment did the most to settle her shivering body.

Softly, I brushed off the strands of her hair stuck to her wet cheek. She covered her eyes in embarrassment.

Firmly removing her hands, I warned her, “Don’t hide from me, beautiful queen.”

“I’m not a queen anymore,” she sniffed.

I huffed. “You may not be the Virgin Queen, but you’re undoubtedly the Hagi queen. Only a queen has the inner strength to give herself to me the way you did. You’re as regal as ever, and you’ll always be my queen.”

She pouted.

“Plus, your pussy’s worth more than your weight in gold.”

She let out a little giggle and slapped my chest lightly.

My heart sang.

“Exaggerate much?”

“Hell no,” I rejoined. “I rarely joke, and certainly never about the power of pussy.

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