The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

Judge looks up at me with a sleepy, sexy softness as he pins my hips in place, grunting as water sloshes over the edges of the bathtub, and he comes inside me. Again. He stays there, his warmth flooding my body, soaking into me like he’s branded me in a way nobody else ever can.

I can tell by the lack of concern he’s not thinking about the consequences right now. I don’t know if he’ll even remember it tomorrow. He’s been fucking me for three hours, and even still, he can’t seem to keep his hands off me.

His head falls back against the tub with a thud, but his hands continue their leisurely exploration of my body, stroking over my ribs, my breasts, all the way up to the back of my neck. The area he touches often in moments like these. Without a doubt, I know if he were to ask for it right now, I would give that space to him. But I know better than to believe in things like that.

Tonight, we’re in a dream-like haze. Tomorrow, when Judge wakes, he’ll go back to what he knows. The walls he’s built will resurrect themselves, the shutters will come down, and I’ll be fighting to gain so much as an inch back into this space we’re in now.

Maybe it’s not fair play, but I decided I may as well grasp the opportunity while I have it. He’s pliable. He’s open. And I want to know what has kept him so guarded all these years.

“Tell me about your mother,” I whisper against his lips.

He sighs, eyelids falling shut as he mumbles his response. “What’s there to tell? She hates me.”

The admission surprises me because I didn’t sense that at all. I mean, it was obvious his mother wasn’t winning any awards for affection. But she seemed much like any other vapid Society matron during my brief interactions with her. Sure, she was fake, but most of them are. I just assumed it was with me, not Judge.

“Why?” I press. “Why would she hate you?”

“Because I didn’t protect her,” he answers quietly. “I let Carlisle beat her for her indiscretion, and I didn’t say a goddamned word to save her.”

His admission sucks the air from my lungs, but I can’t let him know it. He’s talking, and I’m aware there’s only a brief window of time before he’ll stop and shut this door forever.

“Why?”

“You said it yourself.” He blinks open his unfocused eyes. “This is the world we live in. I was sixteen, and Carlisle’s word was law. She’s never forgiven me for it, and she never will.”

The truth splits my heart in half. Because as much as I pity his mother for what she must have endured at the hands of his grandfather, my heart aches for Judge too. I understand better than anyone what it’s like to be trapped in an impossible situation. I learned that from watching my brothers trying to sacrifice themselves to save me. It never worked. They would take beatings, but I would too. It didn’t stop my father, and I know it wouldn’t have stopped Carlisle either.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“And what about this?” My fingers move to the tattoo wrapping around his back, over the scar he’s tried to hide. “What happened here, Judge?”

His eyes snap to mine, and suddenly, he looks stone-cold sober, and I know the time for answers is over.

“Let that be a lesson to you.” He pulls his cock from me and hoists me up, splashing water everywhere as he helps me from the tub. “That’s what happens when you trust someone. There’s no such thing as loyalty, little monster. We all have to learn the hard way.”