Page 88 of Brutal Heir

I jerked in his embrace, but he only tightened his arm.

Then he lifted me off the floor and twisted his hand in my hair. “Good. I’d rather show you my counteroffer.”

His mouth descended on mine.

He tasted of wine and ruin.

My scalp stung where he pulled my hair as his tongue swept inside my mouth to take possession.

I dug my fingers into his sweater while I desperately tried to cling to my sanity.

It was an indescribable feeling to be swept up in a sea of emotion. Blood pounded in my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping in vain to shut out the reality of what was happening. I was letting this man overwhelm me…again. It was as if I had no free will around him.

When he broke the kiss, I opened my eyes and cried out, “What the fuck?”

He had carried me into an elegant bedroom. Like the rest of the plane, muted chocolate browns, cream, and bronze tones decorated the room, with fresh white orchids on the bureau and a stunning watercolor of the Italian coast over the bed.

I pushed away from him and backed up a few steps.

Without taking his eyes off me, he kicked the door behind him shut.

In one fluid motion, he pulled his sweater over his head, revealing a muscular chest etched with a tattoo that seemed both ominous and hypnotic.

Reaching for his belt buckle, he raised his chin and commanded, “Get on the bed.”

My eyes widened as I clutched the sides of my blazer, wrapping them more securely around my waist.

I shook my head. “We’re not doing this again.”

He whipped his belt off. “If by this, you mean fuck, then yes, we are.”

The backs of my legs bumped into the bed. I jumped away as if it had burned me. “It takes two people to fuck, and I say it’s not happening.”

He kicked off his shoes and padded toward me in only a pair of pants hung so low on his hips I could see the faint dusting of hair over his flat lower abdomen and a significant bulge straining against the fabric.

Catching my look, he smirked as he cupped his right fist with his left hand. “It only takes one person to fuck. The other one gets fucked.”

“Sebastian, let me pass.”

He leaned forward. “Sabrina, not a chance in hell.”

I swiveled my head to search the room. From the sloped walls, it appeared as though we were at the very back of the plane. There wasn’t another exit.

He stalked forward.

I held up my palm. “Wait!”

His hands cupped my face as he pushed his fingers into my hair, holding me tightly.

His lips brushed mine while he rasped, “Dolcezza, don’t fight me on this.”

He spoke so softly, I could almost convince myself it wasn’t a threat.

His lips pressed against mine, swallowing my whimper.

As he traced the tip of his tongue along the edge of my teeth, he pushed my blazer off my shoulders.

He increased the intensity of the kiss then his hands tore at the collar of my T-shirt, wrenching it in half.