She was close; I could tell by the way she bit at her lip, by the way her nails dug deeper into my back, by the increased urgency in her cries.
Beautiful didn’t come close to the way I saw her.
I’d never forget what she’d just given me.
I should have said no. I should have sent her to her own room, because, yeah, I’d suspected she was a virgin, if I was honest. But I took what she offered anyway. Because I’d never wanted anything or anyone more in my entire life.
London might be shy, but she was a grown woman. She knew what she wanted. And for tonight she wanted me. I was just too fucking thankful of that to second-guess it.
To second-guess her.
I was more than okay with being her first, because I knew I couldn’t be her only. I hated it, but that was how it had to be. I was no good for her, not for the long term.
I leaned in and kissed her again. I couldn’t get enough of her mouth. “You gonna come for me, baby?” I said against her kiss-swollen lips and thrust deep, grinding against her.
She arched, lips parting.
“Give it to me, London. Let me feel it,” I gritted out, right there with her.
Her pussy clamped down on my cock and I lost my shit, started fucking her harder, deeper, unable to take my eyes off her as she thrashed and cried out beneath me, fucking me back, taking everything I gave and giving me more.
Finally, I dropped down, buried my face against her throat, and groaned, coming so hard I damn near blacked out.
I kissed the side of her neck and her jaw, cupped her face, and looked down at her. “Okay?”
Her face was flushed and she gasped as her pussy spasmed around me again and then again.
Fuck me. She was coming again. I rolled my hips, fucking her gently through it, unable to look way. Jesus fucking Christ.
Finally, she collapsed back, her beautiful full breasts jiggling with her panted breaths, hair spread out all over my pillow. I gently kissed one of her tight little nipples then moved up, taking her gorgeous mouth.
I wanted to fuck her all over again.
And that’s exactly what I planned to do.
10
London
I was standing in the kitchen when Van moved up behind me. His hands went to my thighs, just below the hem of the T-shirt I was wearing. His T-shirt. Van seemed to like it when I wore his clothes. He buried his face in my hair and breathed me in before his mouth went to the side of my neck and he kissed me, lips moving to my ear as he slid my hair to the side.
“Morning,” he said, voice all husky and yummy.
“Morning.”
“How you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” I said, finding it hard to find my voice all of a sudden, especially with his lips moving over my skin, gently sucking my earlobe. My bravado from the night before, when I’d stood in the living room and told him what I wanted, was absent in the stark reality of day. No, I did not regret it, not one bit. But that awkwardness, the shyness, hadn’t magically vanished because of what we’d shared, which was why I colored when he turned me around, slid his hands under my butt, and lifted me onto the counter.
“Okay?” he said.
His hands went to my knees and spread them, his hips filling the space. He was wearing jeans that were undone, and you could see he wore nothing underneath, like he’d just tugged them on and walked out. My mouth went dry.
His fingers slid under my chin and he tilted my head back. “Just okay?”
There was concern in his eyes and I felt guilty for putting it there. So I pushed past my shyness. “A lot better than okay,” I said. “So much more than okay.”
He grinned, and I was glad I was sitting or I might have melted into a puddle at his feet.
“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, stating the obvious.
His hands were back on my thighs—long, strong fingers massaging, sliding higher.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, not sure what to do with my hands. “I needed to get ready for work. I thought we could both do with some coffee.”
He dipped his head, mouth close to mine. “I woke wanting you again and you weren’t there. I thought maybe I dreamed last night,” he said, voice full of gravel. “Thought I better find you and make sure.”
His intensity, this kind of intimacy, it wasn’t something I’d ever had to deal with before. I was definitely feeling self-conscious and awkward. “Nope, not a dream.”
You’re talking loud again!
He moved closer, brushing his hard cock, barely restrained by his jeans, against my inner thigh. His hand slid up, all the way up, the backs of his fingers pressing gently against my core through my underwear. I gasped.
His gaze locked on mine and he took my chin in his other hand. “You sore, sweetheart?” he said in that gritty, sexy morning voice.
I colored further. Oh God, did he know?
“You’re gonna be sore after the way we went at it last night…” He paused, those almost black eyes growing even more intense. “Especially if you haven’t had a man before.”
Yep. He knew. Was it that obvious? I cringed inwardly and pulled my chin out of his hand, trying to climb down. He wouldn’t let me.
“London?”
I ignored him and struggled against his hold.
“What’s going on? Hey, look at me.”
I looked longingly at the door. “I need to get ready for work.”
“Hang on a minute.”
I carried on squirming, trying to get the hell down and away from his overwhelming presence and my humiliation.
“What the hell’s going on?” he said with more force.
I didn’t want to talk about this, but now he sounded worried, which meant I had to talk about it. “No, okay. I hadn’t had sex before last night. Not that I managed to keep it a secret since you worked it out so damned easily.”
He slid his fingers around the side of my throat, tilting my head back. “Yeah, so what? Why are you upset right now?”
He wanted me to spell it out? I was flustered and getting annoyed because I was dying here and he wouldn’t let me escape, wouldn’t let me run and hide. “Why do you think?” I said. “You could tell I was a virgin, Van. Which means you could tell I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, which also means that I was…I was…”
“What?” he growled.
“Terrible at it,” I blurted.
He stilled. “London.”
I didn’t reply and focused on my tightly clenched fingers gripping the edge of the counter.
“Jesus Christ, woman, look at me.”
I didn’t want to, but I knew if I didn’t, he wasn’t going to let me down. I lifted my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. They were soft. Softer than I’d ever seen them.
“You think you were terrible?”
I nodded.
Van carried on staring at me for several long, silent seconds, and then he released an unsteady breath. “Fuck, baby, a man doesn’t come the way I did last night with terrible. He sure as fuck doesn’t repeatedly reach for more through the night. And he doesn’t wake up craving it, knowing he would do anything to have it again. You, sweetheart, were the opposite of terrible. Woman, you’re the best I ever had. You’re all I want. And you have to know, I plan on having you as often as I can while I have you around.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Does that clear things up?”
Oh my God.
I nodded again, my heart racing so hard and fast I felt light-headed.
His fingers dug gently into the flesh of my thigh, his other hand still holding the side of my throat, thumb sliding over my jaw. “Now, I want to fuck you again, but if you’re too sore, I’ll use my mouth to make you come instead.”
I shivered and shook my head. “I’m not…I’m not too sore.”
He was done talking after that, his mouth coming down on mine, kissing me soft and sweet, to start with at least. It wasn’t long before he deepened it, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tangling with m
ine, his lips taking mine with more urgency. I kissed him back just as hard.
His hand slid back up between my thighs and he massaged me gently through my underwear until I was squirming and tilting my hips, asking for more. He gripped the side of them, like he was about to tear them off.
Someone knocked at the door.
Van ignored it and kept on kissing me.
They knocked again.
He lifted his head on a growl.
“You should probably answer that,” I said, and there was no missing the disappointment in my voice.
“They’ll leave…”
They knocked again, with more force this time.
He did not look happy. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
He strode off, and I watched him go. The man was insanely beautiful, dark golden skin, lean and hard, muscled. Long legs, sold thighs. Very nice butt, the kind you wanted to sink your teeth into…
Male voices drifted from the living room.
“London,” Van called. “Can you come out here, please?”
What? I was only wearing a T-shirt. It came almost to my knees because Van was tall and I was not, but still.
He filled the door. “The police are here. They’ve got some news.”
All thoughts of what I was wearing vanished, until I walked out and came face-to-face with Connor. His gaze dropped, took me in from head to toe, and his jaw started working. His gaze slid to Van and his lips curled up, but not in a smile. This was something else, almost feral, then he shook his head. It was subtle but I didn’t miss it.
“What have you got?” Van said, ignoring it completely.
“The DNA…not a match with Terrence Ferida. It turns out, Terrence has a twin brother, Owen. History of violence. He’s only just moved back to New York, which is why Terrence hit our radar first. The guy had a sealed file.” He glanced at me. “Which means Owen was underage when he was charged. Nothing for years, now this.”
“So you’re telling me it was Terrence’s twin who attacked London?” Van growled.
Connor crossed his arms. “Yeah. It’s messed up, but that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Why did Terrence sit in a cell when it was his brother who should be there in his place?” Van asked.
“Buying Owen time. He knew what we’d find, knew he’d eventually be in the clear, but wasn’t in a hurry to help us out. From what I could piece together, Owen was the one who caused the trouble when they were growing up and Terrence protected him or tried to. Owen went to a juvenile detention center and Terrence felt guilty because he couldn’t protect his brother. He was trying to make up for it now.”
“You know where this Owen is?”
Connor shook his head. “No, and Terrence isn’t talking. Says he doesn’t know.”
“Where’s Terrence now?”
“Released on bail. We can get him for obstruction. But we didn’t have enough to hold him.”
Van’s hands went to his hips and every muscle in his body got tight, the veins in his forearms becoming prominent. “You got someone following him?”
Connor straightened. “What do you think?”
Van leveled Connor with a hard stare. “I wouldn’t like to guess, considering how you boys have mishandled this entire case.”
“That right?” Connor bit out. “Well, it would help if the boys at the King Agency would keep the hell out of it.”
Van took a step forward. “That’s not happening.”
I stepped forward as well. “Okay, well, thank you for letting me know,” I said to Connor before things got ugly. “You’ll keep me updated?”
He turned to me and the anger washed from his handsome face. “I’ll let you know as soon as we get this guy.”
I’d managed to shove it from my mind when it had been just Van and me. Now I knew this Owen could have come for me and gotten to me easily. The fear that I’d been working to control, to push down for so long, came rushing back. I started shaking.
Connor muttered something and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight.
“We’ll get him, honey. I promise you that,” he said and kissed the top of my head. He gave me another gentle squeeze and pulled back a little, dipping his head, eyes meeting mine. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”
I nodded.
He headed for the door, and I glanced over at Van. He looked like he was made of stone. Van’s eyes were on Connor and he did not look happy. In fact, he looked like he was about to commit murder.
“You’ll be okay for a minute?” he said to me.
I nodded, and Van followed Connor out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
I stood there wondering what the hell was going on. I assumed it was something to do with the case, which I wasn’t overly happy about. I wanted to know what was going on. I didn’t like being kept in the dark, especially when it concerned me.
When Van walked back in, his mood hadn’t improved.
I fidgeted, not sure what to say or how to deal with a pissed off Van King. “Is everything all right?”
He’d grabbed his phone from the coffee table and was tapping at the screen. His eyes lifted to mine. “I’ll make sure of it, London,” he said in that scary, hard voice he used sometimes when he was particularly tense, or should I say, intense, which was now.
In fact, he seemed to get like this around me pretty often.
Great.
I forced myself to push on. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No.”
Well, that was straight to the point. “You talked to Connor in the hall,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
He turned to face me, a strange look on his face. “Yeah, London, I did.”
I was confused at this point. “What about?”
“You really don’t know?” he said, that odd look still on his face.
I crossed my arms and shuffled my feet, starting to feel a lot like an idiot. What had I missed? “No. I don’t.”
Van’s hands went to his hips. “Right now, you’re wearing my shirt, hair all messy and sexy from me fucking you all night.”
I blushed. I didn’t know what that had to do with anything. “Okay.”
“When you walked into this living room, your cheeks were flushed, lips still red and swollen from me kissing you.” He ground his teeth. “No fucking way Daniels missed that. Still, he put his fucking hands on you.”
I shook my head. “He was just comforting me.”
“Babe, the man asked you out. He kissed you. He wants you. He did that shit right in front of me. I didn’t like it, London, and I let him know.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “He knows…I told him. There’s nothing between him and I, not like that.”
“For you maybe. But he’s not done with you.”
I was stunned. “But you just talked to him. He must have said—”
“He’s not done.”
He’s not done? What the hell did that mean? “Well, I am.”
Van was silent a beat, then said, “Yeah, you are.”
Now it was my turn to be at a loss for words. “Are you actually angry with me?”
He closed the gap between us and pulled me in close to his body. “No, London, never at you. But I didn’t like seeing him kiss you and I sure as fuck didn’t like him putting his hands on you right in front of me. That’s not on you, that’s on me. Now he knows the score, and if he’s wise he won’t do that shit again.”
“And what’s the score?” It came out kind of breathless.
His eyes seemed to turn black. “That you’re mine.”
I knew my eyes had gone big. “What?”
“Am I wrong?” he said, voice rough.
I was his?
I slowly shook my head, not sure if he was wrong or not quite honestly. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to be mine. So I guessed we were each other’s.
At least until this was over.
11
Van
I wa
s still fuming two hours after Daniels left.
“You think you can warn me off?”
The bastard had known why I’d followed him out of my apartment. He’d put on that show with London just for me, making sure I knew they had a connection, even if currently they both wanted different things. He wanted me to see that she trusted him and that his interest in her was far from over.
“London’s too sweet to see it, to see you. Right now she sees you as some kind of hero. But I can wait. And when you get tired of her, when you’re done and you leave her behind, like we both know you will, I’ll be there. I sure as hell won’t wait this time. I won’t miss my chance. I’ll pick up the pieces you leave behind, and I’ll give her what she really needs.”
His words had been spinning around my head, gathering momentum, twisting me in knots, since he walked away.
“When you’re done and you leave her behind.”
Even the thought of walking away from her felt wrong in every possible way. Would I be able to stand by and watch her move on? Watch as she started dating fucking Daniels, as they grew closer? Go to dinner at Jude and Willa’s and sit across the table from them, like this never happened between us? Like these days with her weren’t the happiest in my damn life?
I couldn’t do that. And I wouldn’t.
No, I wasn’t good enough for her, and I wasn’t sure I could give her what she needed—like Connor obviously believed he could—but I wanted to. I wanted to give that to her, I realized.
Whatever this thing was between us, it wasn’t something I could ignore.
I knew now the only way this was ending between us was if London ended it. Which was highly likely, especially if she saw the man I truly was. I’d do fucking anything to keep the dark place inside me hidden from her. I could do it. For London, I could do it. I had to.
I glanced over at her. She was asleep on the couch. I’d persuaded her not to go in to work, that for now it was too dangerous to be out in the open. I wasn’t going to risk her life, not for anything. I’d do whatever it took to ensure her safety.
Merciless King (Lawless Kings, #5) Page 11