Claiming The True Heiress
Eric’s POV
“Mum? Did you… did you drug me?” I hiccupped. I staggered on my feet after breakfast, fingers braced against the chair as if it might explain my sudden weakness.
My mum let out a harrumph. She reached out, steadying me with two hands on my forearms. “Eric, you know I would never do anything to hurt you,” she said. “But this has to end.”
Heat crawled under my skin in a way the wine didn’t account for. My erection, inconvenient and impossible to ignore, burned with an awkward, humiliating pressure.
“You put it in the blood sausage, didn’t you?” I blurted. I love blood sausages and my mother had just ruined it for me.
“Sweetie, you need an heir,” she said, helping me set my feet beneath me properly as if she were coaching a child through the first time on a horse.
“And I told you, you’re not getting one. At least not from me.”
“Hence, the drugging.” Her fingers tightened briefly. “I have secured a young lady from the Duvall family. Strong bloodline. She is—” She paused. “—suitable. She will be here soon. And you will sleep with her.”
A maid swept past. She passed within arm’s reach, she bowed slightly before continuing on her walk. I had seen her countless times in the estate and yet right then, she seemed like the sexiest woman in the world.
I watched idly as the maid’s uniform hugged the line of her hips; and I imagined my swollen cock buried deep inside that ass. Fuck! What did my mother give me?
My mother groaned dramatically beside me. “Let’s get you inside before you actually start humping the maids, Eric,” she muttered, looping her arm through mine. My body was on fire—skin buzzing, pupils dilated, my cock straining against my trousers.
“I’m not doing it, Mum,” I hissed.
Her grip tightened. “You will. I’ve hidden every condom in your bedroom, and in the whole estate. You cannot be the last of our line, Eric. Do you hear me?”
“I’d rather jump off the bloody roof!” I snapped. My vision flickered red for an instant; the heat from the drug felt like it was eating my veins from the inside out. I could smell the heat of the servants in the hallway. Everything was too sharp, too vivid.
“Eric Maxwell Blackwood!” she thundered. “Don’t you dare scare your mother like that.”
We finally reached my room. “Mum, please,” I said. “You killed Father because you couldn’t stand what he had become. You know I’m the same. You want me to bring a child that will be the same into this world?”
My hands were shaking as I pressed them against the doorframe.
Her face softened then, just a fraction. “The curse will break someday, love,” she murmured, brushing my damp hair back from my forehead. “We just have to be patient. We just have to survive until then.”
I sighed and collapsed back onto my bed. The sheets were cool against my fevered skin, but it did nothing to ease the pulse between my legs. I stared up at the ceiling. My erection pointed stubbornly upward, a cruel reminder of the drug’s effect and my mother’s plan.
“She will be here soon,” my mother said softly. “A young lady from the Duvall family. Strong bloodline, chosen for you.” She straightened. The heavy door shut with a thud, and I heard the lock slide into place—a soft, final sound that made my gut twist.
I was alone now.
This was my mother’s last resort to make me produce an heir. If there was truly a merciful goddess, she would not grant my mother’s wish. I have to be the last cursed Blackwood. I have to be.