Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

Abigail

T he door slams open behind us, the force making it rebound violently off the wall. Sucking in a breath, I whirl to find Barron barging in, his eyes blazing with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“What the hell is this about you leaving?” he growls, glaring at me before shooting his mother is quick glance. His focus snaps back to land squarely on me, demanding an answer.

“Barron,” Miss Opal reprimands, appalled at his intrusion.

I stand, shoving my trembling hands deep into the pockets of the robe as I draw in a steadying breath.

“I think it’s best if I get off at the next port,” I force out in a small voice, thanks to the ball of emotion stuck in my throat. He must have learned about my plan to leave from Holly, which likely means I’m on my own. “I’ll find my way to the airport.”

Confusion and hurt well up inside me. First, he was adamant I never should have been on board to begin with. He couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Now that I’m actually leaving, he’s furious.

“I’m going with her,” Miss Opal adds firmly.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Barron snarls. He strides forward, pulling my arm as he swoops down and lifts me off my feet then sets me over his shoulder in one fluid motion.

I’m so stunned all I do is let out a strangled shriek of surprise as the world flips upside down. My heart stutters in my chest. What is he doing? I reach out wildly, trying to grab on to anything, but there’s nothing within reach in the empty room, and he’s moving fast.

“Barron, stop,” I cry out, my voice muffled and frantic against the plane of his back.

“Barron, what are you doing?” Miss Opal’s worried voice comes from beyond the curtain created by my hair.

“I’m getting her to stay,” he informs her gruffly, his long legs eating up the carpet between my room and the hallway. “And you too,” he adds in a tone that brooks no argument.

“Oh,” she responds, sounding entirely too pleased with the sudden change in plans.

I try to pull myself upright, but his large hand lands on my backside with a resounding crack.

“Keep your head down if you don’t want to lose it.” His voice is cold as he issues the menacing warning.

I gasp at the sharp sting radiating from my butt cheek. With no way to retaliate, I’m left with nothing to do but dangle helplessly, the ends of my hair brushing his legs with every step.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I mutter, anger and humiliation warring within me. Gritting my teeth, I slap his firm backside as hard as I can.

My fingers land squarely on the edge of the wallet he has tucked into the pocket of his jeans. Wincing, I shake my hand as if it’ll stop the pain.

Angry, I slam my palm down again on the other side, but without leverage, the effort is wasted.

We’re sweeping past the living area when I catch sight of Holly waiting at the front door. A smile spreads across her face as my cheeks go up in flames.

This is sure to haunt me forever.

“Oh my God, Barron. Put me down,” I demand through gritted teeth, hot tears of embarrassment burning behind my eyes.

The stubborn, infuriating man remains undeterred. He rounds the corner swiftly, continuing down the hallway. His pace increases as he gets closer to his bedroom.

The knob rattles then he throws the door open with enough force that it ricochets, coming to hit his shoulder. I fold my arm over my head for protection.

Barron doesn’t even break stride, barreling through the doorway as if he didn’t feel the impact at all.

At last, he bends down, setting my feet on the plush carpet with a gentleness at odds with how he’s been manhandling me.

I sniffle, swiping my fingers over my temples and across my eyebrows in an attempt to clear away the tears that escaped on the way over.

Barron straightens, stepping backward toward the door, but his heated gaze never leaves my face. Does he honestly think I’ll make a run for it? As if I could get past him without him catching me.

The sharp click of the lock sliding into place drives home the fact I’m trapped in here with him.

“Like I said,” he snaps in that deep, rough tone that sends a shiver through me for all the wrong reasons. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

The simple declaration sends a streak of awareness through me. Barron is already yanking the dark T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he closes the distance between us.

My instincts scream for me to turn and run. Only there’s nowhere to go in this room except for the balcony, and I’m just not that desperate. The best I can manage is to retreat a few shaky steps.

I swallow hard, unnerved by this intense, darker side of him before. Worse yet, I’m not sure how to feel about my reaction to him.

“Barron?” The tremor of uncertainty in my own voice rings through.

“And there’s no way in hell she’s using those pictures,” he states with finality, anger in every chiseled feature.

“What?” I blink, caught off guard at the abrupt change of subject.

“The pictures Holly took next door,” he bites out in a clipped tone.

“Oh.” A deep sting of humiliation cuts through me. Of course they wouldn’t use those photographs of me for their promotional material. I was foolish to think they’d be up to par for their luxury brand. The people who can afford this cruise are used to supermodels like Bronwyn O’Neal.

But deep down inside, I didn’t think the photographs would be as bad as Barron finds them.

“I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking.” He rips at the belt on my robe, the same way he just ripped my heart. “Wanting to put them where every fucker out there…”

He pauses, his gaze raking over me with a spark of arousal, scorching me as he moves down my body.

I’m naked under the robe, my skin still damp from the hot shower. I put an arm across my breasts to cover myself. Shaking, I stumble, losing my footing on whatever is on the floor behind me.

Barron’s hand shoots out to grip my arm, hauling me against him. The solid wall of his bare chest against mine is enough to have my breath stall in my lungs.

“Can see what’s mine,” he finishes in a voice made gravelly with desire.

His words register, sending a dizzying rush of arousal through me a split second before his mouth crashes down against mine.

Where every fucker out there can see what’s mine. Barron’s heated words reverberate in my mind and in my heart. What’s mine.

I throw my arms around his strong shoulders, straining up on my tiptoes to press my body against him. My senses narrow until all I can process is that I’m surrounded by Barron. His scent. His skin. The stubble brushing my chin. The unmistakable ridge of his cock rubbing against my belly.

It’s not enough. He’s pushing a hand between us, ripping at the fastening on his jeans then pushing them down. His hands cup my bottom, his fingers digging into the sensitive spot where he spanked me earlier. A shudder of raw need races through me.

I hardly have a moment to savor the sensation before he’s lifting me effortlessly. My legs instinctively go around his hips as he impales me with a devastatingly powerful thrust.

Everything happens so fast I swear I see a spark behind my eyelids. I’m slick, wet, ready for him…but the piercing sting of my body stretching to accommodate him makes me arch, my nails sinking into the muscles at his back as I cling to him.

“ Fuuuck !” Barron’s guttural roar is unrecognizable.

I look down to find us on the couch, with me straddling him. His head is thrown back, eyes pressed shut, jaw clenched, and the cords at his neck sticking out.

My God, he’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

Slowly, he lowers his chin. My breath catches at the blazing intensity of his eyes. His brows are drawn together in a fierce scowl, giving him a furious expression.

“Move, damn it,” he demands harshly.

Only I can’t. I don’t have the leverage to move, and even if I did, I’m not sure I could manage it. My brain is stuck at the fact I’m sitting astride him, my body feeling full.

“I…” Only that fragment makes it past my lips. Everything has stopped functioning as it should. I can barely shake my head from side to side to make him understand.

With a low growl, Barron grabs my waist, flipping us until I’m spread out beneath him.

“Ah.” My thigh takes the brunt of the movement, but I land so hard it loosens the knot at my throat.

Barron’s over me, filling me, his hips shifting against mine, driving his thick length into me with one powerful thrust after another.

The strength of him rocks me against the cushions. My lids flutter closed as I’m inundated by raw sensation. I’m so wet. The slick, obscene sound of his relentless strokes is building more and more pressure in me.

He places his arm out to brace himself above me; his other hand comes to circle my throat. I open my eyes, bewildered, vulnerable under a man who claimed me. My pulse slams against his palm as I watch him.

“You goddamn well belong to me,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “With me. To me.” He punctuates the words with a sharp slap of his hips. “Don’t you fucking forget that, Abigail.”

His words echo in my head with the rhythmic pounding of his body against mine.

I hold on to his sides as the pressure goes higher, wider, making me dig my nails into his skin as everything within me shatters in a marvelous explosion.

Don’t you fucking forget that.

Pleasure rushes through me as he goes faster…harder…my inner muscles rippling along his length as he grinds against me.

He rubs his thumb against my chin, breathing heavily yet looking utterly satisfied. “Wherever I am, you’ll be, and it’s not because of money changing hands. It’s not because of some goddamn agreement. It’s because you gave yourself to me.”

My heart clenches at the sheer certainty of his statement. I nod in agreement, a smile playing at my lips.

I feel grounded, steady, and accepted, maybe for the first time in my life. Funny that it would happen out at sea, on a ship, with Barron McClelland’s cock buried inside me.