Her Pretty Little Revenge (His Pretty Little Collection #3)

Chapter 1 His Perfect Little Heirs

CHAPTER ONE

his perfect little heirs

*All the Clay and Fawn scenes taken from the novella His Perfect Little Heirs*

My dear friend, Xander Butcher, told me that good things come in threes:

Clay Butcher: Number one.

His heir: Number two.

Family: Number three.

And soon, I’ll understand what the last two wonderful things really mean.

On my knees at the feet of the deadliest man in the city, the Don of the Cosa Nostra, Clay Butcher, I lay with my head on his thigh while he reads the paper.

I steady my heart.

Hold my stomach.

I ignore the nerves racketing through me and focus on Luna, stroking her fur and watching how she headbutts my palm to get more affection. She meows and pads around, and she’s so fucking cute I want to smooch her face.

Will she sleep with the baby?

Is she allowed to?

The baby… The anticipation of meeting number two sits heavily inside my chest. I gaze up at Clay as his dark brows tighten, distinguished creases forming between them.

I nudge Clay’s thigh a little, copying Luna.

Only he can settle the nerves.

What if the ultrasound is bad?

What if he’s wrong… again?

What if he’s small or twisted?

Is that a thing?

What if I break him?

What if he—

“I know you’re nervous, sweet girl.” Clay responds to my silent need, moving his hand to caress my hair, fingers gliding down the blonde strands to the ribbony tips.

Will I have time for him when we have children?

Oh God, will he have time for me?

I sigh. “Are you nervous, Sir?”

“Such a sweet question. Don’t concern yourself with me today. Should we redirect your thoughts while you wait?”

My cheek rubs along his pants as I nod excitedly, and he places the paper beside him, widening his thighs.

He reaches for a pillow and places it on the floor, nodding an order to it. “Mount it. I want you humping the pillow gently while you suck on me. Do it now.”

My coy eagerness plays across my cheeks, creating crimson hues. I will always blush for him. It is impossible not to.

Obediently, I climb onto the pillow. Seeking that blissful buzz, I rub along the fluffy mound as I reach up and draw his zipper down.

“Wait, sweet girl.” He grips my wrists, then positions me, placing my palms flat on his knees. Straightening, I gaze up at him, and his dark intent flares through his blue eyes as they train on my mouth.

I part my lips to breathe beneath the intensity of his heated gaze, but then he orders, “More. Open your mouth wide for me. I want to see your tonsils.”

My pulse flutters along my neck with nervous excitement as I widen my lips, my tongue wiggling around with uncertainty. I don’t know where to put it. Saliva builds. I try to fight it. Not wanting to literally drool, although I figuratively do it often.

He grins. “Good girl. Stick your tongue out, and rest it on your lower lip. That’s the most comfortable spot for you, and relax, sweet girl. You look pretty when you salivate for me.”

My eyes well up when he pushes two fingers between my lips, fingering my mouth suggestively, his eyes unwavering from the action. He uses them to lather my mouth.

Stirring around my cheeks.

I mewl a little when a small stream of saliva slides from my bottom lip, but he only chuckles deeply. “Such a good girl. Now suck on my fingers and hump your pillow, little deer.”

I stare up at him through my top lashes and envelop his fingers, gently sucking on them.

My wide gaze fixes on him, daring him. I suck harder and start to ride the pillow, feeling pleasure spinning around me, dizzying me. The moment is intimate. Exposing. I moan around his fingers, the desire between my thighs warming from the base of my spine to the tips of my ears.

His eyes darken when I shudder.

I close mine, unable to hold his.

I ride the pillow shamelessly. Suck his fingers. Curl my toes. Put on a show.

Moving and gyrating on my knees, I hum to the subtle pleasure between my thighs, the soft material lightly fondling my wet, pulsing core.

His fingers slip from inside my mouth, but I keep my eyes closed, my mouth parted, and my pussy grinding on the pillow for him to watch and enjoy.

I hear him shuffle.

My heart double taps.

The smooth, large head of his erection slides into my mouth, and I close my lips over it on a satisfied sigh. He is mine to enjoy. Only mine.

Softly, I suck, rewarded with a deep praise-filled groan.

Smoothing down my hair, he says, “You’re going to meet the next love of your life soon, sweet girl, and you’re going to do just fine.

Everything will be perfect. The ultrasound will be fine.

He will be strong. Resilient. Brave. How could he not be with a mother like my little deer?

” he says easily, but his voice is rough as his words of affirmation spur me on, my mouth licking him to match his praise.

“Christ, little deer. Your mouth is so pretty. So eager.” He lifts his hips and massages the back of my head, fingers circling my scalp, curling my hair around my crown.

“Remember, little deer, that just because you have this very important responsibility, doesn’t mean I am not here to guide you.

Just because I have more to care for now, doesn’t mean my priorities will change.

Your well-being and safety will always be my number one focus.

So, when you feel overwhelmed and you need reassurance, I am here.

I will always put my little deer first. Will always choose you, so you can put my children first, so you can always choose them.

Now, nod your head so I know you understand. ”

I nod around his cock.

“Good. You need to come on the pillow for me, sweet girl. Show me how pretty you are.”

Yes, Sir.

Still mouthing his thick length, I focus on the pillow between my thighs, bunching it to a point. I ride it and whine around his cock, saliva rushing down my chin as the delicate sensation buzzes along my folds.

My rhythm breaks, becoming uneven as pressure builds through my core. Tightness gathers along my inner thighs. Heat races across my skin as a small orgasm slides through me. I release his cock. A gentle whimper whispers pass my lips, my body jerks softly on the pillow, and he praises me as I come.

“You are very endearing to watch, sweet girl. Such a good girl for me. Showing me how your pretty body moves, letting me smell your pretty scent.” His voice is like smooth leather, and I shudder through my orgasm. “There you go. Do you feel a little bit better?”

I nod, my body a humming vessel of pleasure. A subtle kind of pleasure that is easy to feel and float down from. Nothing explosive like what he tears from me, but nice all the same when experienced under his gaze. “I feel good.”

“You look very pretty.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb down my cheek. “I like you blushing.” I smile at him, and his soft expression balloons my heart. “Time to go, little deer. Up you get.”

On wobbly legs, I rise in front of him. He tucks his cock back in his pants, standing with me.

We fix ourselves for company and head towards the room I was taken to on my first morning staying here.

When I heard my baby’s heartbeat but didn’t see— I didn’t get to see him.

It seems like such a long time ago. I was just a lost girl with no place in this world to call my own.

I know my place now—beside the most powerful man in the city. His rose. My thorns.

That thought settles all my nerves, and I enter the room with a new wave of enthusiasm.

Everything will be fine.

“Don’t be nervous. Bronson and Luca have Kelly and Stone, so it’s just us,” Shoshanna says as she sets up the machine while Cassidy slides onto the bed.

Her eyes are soft and easy, whereas Max is filling the space as he always does, with his broad shoulders and guard-dog-like readiness that is always on.

His eyes are on his wife’s face and not on her stomach or the machines, almost as though he doesn’t want to look yet or… isn’t ready to, maybe? I don’t understand the reluctance in his gaze, but I know he was away for most of Cassidy’s last pregnancy and missed the birth.

Does that affect him today?

Cassidy smiles at me from the high hospital-style bed as she pulls her shirt up and tucks the pink fabric in her bra. “Come up here with me, Fawn. We can both fit.”

“Little one,” Max protests, disapproval in his tone.

“Come on, Menace”—she reaches out her hand and squeezes his forearm— “There is plenty of room for us both. It’s more fun.” She lowers her voice, but I still hear her whisper to him, “It’s still me and you. It’s still our thing.”

Smiling, I crawl up beside her and we settle in, shoulder to shoulder, as Shoshanna applies the gel and presses the wand to Cassidy’s belly. “Let’s see this little Butcher.”

I pull my shirt up and turn to Clay, who watches me with that smooth confidence he wears so easily.

I grin at him, and he strides to my bedside, casting a shadow on me that further settles my soul. Safety. His ominous dark shadow is everything I dreamed of as a child growing up in the foster system.

Shoshanna draws me from him as she says, “There is your bub, Cassidy… Max?” She looks over at him, as the quiet in the room suddenly fills with the sound of a heartbeat. His baby’s heart. “There’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

“Hi,” Cassidy coos sweetly.

Lifting Cassidy’s hand, Max holds it to his lips as though it’s his tether, her touch offering enough support for his gaze to finally meet the screen.

It’s clearly a baby—a baby shape. I know why they call it the fetal position now.

Will mine look like that?

A few moments pass as Shoshanna measures the grey and black shapes that wobble around. And I think the look in Max’s stare is enough to break the moon in half with its intensity.

Content, Shoshanna sighs. “The baby is perfect, Max.”

Max can’t talk.

“Oh, Max.” Cassidy sits up and he leans down to take her into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder and hair. “I know, Menace. I know.”