Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Barron

F ury like I’ve never experienced erupts inside me. What does that insolent little prick think he’s doing?

I’m striding toward Abigail, leaving a potential investor halfway through his next question. Someone crashes into me, but the impact isn’t enough to knock me off course. I have to reach her—I have to get that asshole away from my woman.

The douchebag glances up at Abigail then turns to check over his shoulder, his eyes opening so wide they look like a pool ball about to be hit. His face is losing color as he’s backpedaling, his hands held out in an unspoken plea.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I snarl, every muscle taut, ready for the attack. I reach out, intent on grabbing him by the throat.

“Whoa—whoa—whoa.” Steven waves, his fingers wide, as if he’s trying to call my attention.

You’re right on target, asshole. You’ve got my undivided attention.

“Barron.” Abigail’s voice cuts through the haze of fury. “Stop.” The urgency in her tone makes my steps falter. Her delicate features show fear and concern, bringing me up short.

“I was apologizing,” Steven says, still backing up. “I’m sorry.” He’s shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” Then he connects with the pillars used to rope off the area. “I’m ssss?—”

The unexpected contact sends him into the red and gold braided cord, pulling the entire unit to the ground with a resounding thud.

Abigail reaches my side. I glance down at her, making sure nothing’s amiss. “You’re safe?”

“Yes.” Her features soften as she studies my face. “He came by to apologize before leaving.”

Leaving. She puts her hand on my chest, and I rein in my anger. Glancing past her shoulder, I find Steven standing on the other side of the table while two staff members put the barriers in place.

Applause erupts in the background because, of course, I drew a crowd from the people heading down to the bridge.

Holly’s going to be livid.

“Let’s go.” I don’t give Abigail a chance to answer, maneuvering us down the hall. She’s rushing, taking two or three steps for every one of my strides.

I slow my pace, letting her walk normally before she ends up twisting an ankle. Then inspiration hits. I turn, wrapping my arm around her midsection and hoisting her over my shoulder.

“Whoop. Barron!”

Catcalls and a couple of loud whistles cut through the air as I pick up the pace. If there was a single person who missed what happened, her cry of surprise will have gotten their attention.

“Oh my God,” Abigail mutters, smacking my ass while our cheering section continues.

My lips stretch out in a satisfied grin as I continue on with my prize, past onlookers gawking or grinning as we go by.

“Put me down,” she demands, her little fists pummeling my lower back.

“In a second.” Once I reach the elevator, I put the key card against the panel then finally set her on her feet. I stuff the key card into my pocket as her hair tumbles down around her chin and shoulders.

She tosses the dark curls back, blowing on the last one to clear her face. Her glare, only slightly murderous, comes up from my chest to my face. Damn, she’s beautiful.

The elevator arrives, and I lead her in. As soon as the doors slide shut, I press the button for our floor while circling Abigail’s waist. I tug the delicate beauty against me, swallowing her gasp of surprise when I slant my mouth over hers.

It’s a blistering reminder of who she belongs to, of how it feels to be owned. Her arms slide up the panels of my suit jacket then link behind my neck.

She presses those incredible curves against me, flattening her breasts against my chest.

Why the hell am I wearing a suit again?

I palm both cheeks of her luscious ass, curling my fingers so I’m filling my hands, and bring her up against the rigid line of my cock. Fuck. I’ve been semihard since we started walking away from the crowd. At this rate, I may not wait until I get her to my bedroom.

Abigail breaks the kiss, those lush lips slightly parted while she drags in a breath. “Barron,” she protests. “You need to stop. We’re in an elevator, for goodness’ sake.”

I keep forgetting she’s so damn innocent. That until yesterday she was exactly that, innocent to a man’s touch. I was the first. And I took her up against the damn wall.

There’s a good chance my firstborn may have been conceived in the hallway. That would make for one hell of a story someday.

The elevator dings, announcing we’ve arrived at our floor. The doors open, sending my blood racing with anticipation.

She pulls away, exiting ahead of me, leaving me cold where her body had pressed against me.

Her hips sway with every step she takes. My mouth waters at the sight, knowing what she looks like under that unassuming dress. I go after her, my longer strides allowing me to catch up before she can leave the landing.

Her gaze finds mine in the mirror right as I hook an arm around her. I guide her to the narrow table a few feet ahead.

Standing behind her, I wrap both arms around her and bend to murmur against the delicate shell of her ear. “See what I see,” I demand. Her brows knit in confusion. “No.” I run the tip of my forefinger across her bottom lip then tap. “Here.”

Abigail complies, changing her focus to where I’m pointing. Seconds stretch out, but it’s clear she doesn’t capture the spark I discovered. That in itself banks the fire she had in her eyes, drawing a growl of censure from somewhere deep inside me.

I set my hands at her waist, moving behind her. I’m conscious of the cameras pointed toward the hall in either direction, and the camera right outside the elevator. I keep her straight in front of me, shielding her properly.

Sliding my hands up her body changes her expression. Her lips part, her breath moving in and out as I bring her in close, molding her to me.

“This is what I see.” I drop a kiss along her temple, making sure she’s watching our reflection as I mold every inch of our bodies together. “It’s why I can’t tear my eyes away from you.” My palms glide up to cup her breasts. “Why I can’t wait to touch you again.”

I go past the top of the dress, slipping inside, along the lower end of the angled neckline. The soft fabric makes it easy to see where she wants to be touched. My fingertips zero in on the pebbled peaks straining to get attention.

Abigail’s breath hitches in pleasure. I part my fingers, moving over the puckered skin, lightly pinching the nub along the way. Her teeth sink into the plump lower lip.

The first time I saw her do that, I had my fingers on her pussy. Is her delectable little cunt that wet now? I start inching her skirt up with my other hand.

“Barron.” My name is a warning on her lips. A warning I easily ignore as I slip a hand down between our bodies.

“Put your hands on the table,” I order. As expected, she obeys my gruff command without hesitation. The added height from the heels angles her perfectly, pushing her ass up against my crotch.

With my blood running hot, I’m not thinking straight. I’m so fucking tempted to drive into her here. To let her watch what she does to me. Only, she wouldn’t be the only one watching.

The realization sobers me. Whoever’s on the other end of that camera feed would also see. I’m not generous enough to have that fucker watch me drilling her from behind. Her cries of pleasure are meant for my ears only.

So I’m left with little more than stealing a taste of her to keep me until I can drag her inside and onto my bed.

While I like that she was wearing full-coverage underwear while we were downstairs, it’s fucking inconvenient as hell at the moment. I miss the way the scant bits of lace gave me instant access to her body. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Holly sent these just to drive me nuts.

A groan escapes me as my fingers move over the center panel, finding it soaked through. Slipping under the elastic, I follow the warm, wet trail to push a thick finger into her channel.

Abigail gasps, her eyelids closing slowly as her inner muscles clench around me. I slide my finger inside her, pressing against the slick walls. She arches her back, a whimper escaping her.

“Such a tight little cunt,” I murmur.

She has my pulse racing, blood rushing through me with that combination of innocence and sinful woman. I want a taste of her, only I want it straight from the source. The same way I’d never fucked a virgin pussy, my only taste so far has been from my fingers.

“That’s right, little thief, enjoy what I give you.” She angles away. Is it that I know what she’s done? “I don’t care what you’ve already taken,” I assure her. “Stay with me, and I’ll give you whatever you want. It’ll be much more than you could ever get from my mother.”

That’s when her elbow comes up to my chest, pushing against me. It takes a second for me to register the change in her.

“Get away from me.” She turns on me, swatting at my hand. Her brow is furrowed, somewhere between confusion and anger. “What I’ve al - ready taken?”

Does she think I have no idea what she’s doing in secret? “You realize I have access to information on my mother’s accounts.”

She stiffens. “It’s news to me,” she says, shifting her shoulders. She opens her mouth then closes it, without saying a single word. Her gaze strays away, moving from one spot to another, as if she’s trying to gather her thoughts.

“Look, I’ve seen?—”

“That’s a conversation you should have with your mother.” She brushes off the message I was imparting and heads down the short hallway to my suite.

I watch her transform, dispassionately. I should have expected this cold, calculating side of her. For once, I fell for the illusion, thinking she cared for my mother instead of seeing her as a meal ticket.

It’s a mistake I won’t make again. That doesn’t mean I can ignore the sway in her hips as she walks away.

The challenge will be to get the Maiden back without falling into her trap because she’s nothing like what I expected when I bought her from her father.