Merciless King: A Lawless Kings Novel

by Gray, Sherilee

  Van’s eyelids were at half-mast. He looked relaxed, sated. Gorgeous. He tucked my hair behind my ear. “It’s been a while for me as well. I forgot how much I love it out here.”

  I liked it, the quiet, the peacefulness. The idea of going back to the city soon, to the nightmare waiting for me, held no appeal whatsoever. “Maybe once this is all over, I’ll move out of the city. Go somewhere completely new and start again,” I said, not sure if I was serious or not, but as the words left me I realized I liked the idea. New York had nothing but bad memories for me now.

  Van’s hand stilled on my back. “You’re leaving?”

  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Somewhere far away. Some cute small town where I could start fresh. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But I think that maybe I need to think seriously about it. There’s nothing for me in the city anymore.”

  “What about your business?”

  His voice had dropped, was deeper.

  I shrugged. “Maybe I could open another store or maybe just work for someone else. Maybe I’ll buy a little bit of land and grow flowers instead.” I smiled. Yeah, I liked that idea. “My own plot of land. I could get another dog, a cat, maybe some chickens.”

  “Chickens?” Van said frowning. “You’re serious?”

  I mulled the idea over in my head again for a minute. “I think I might be. A new start might be exactly what I need.”

  Van

  I watched London, able to see the moment the idea solidified, and did my best to hide what was going on inside me.

  Leave? A new start?

  I fucking hated the idea. The thought of her somewhere else, somewhere that I couldn’t see her whenever I wanted to, made me near insane. There was no way I was letting her leave. No way.

  You don’t have the right to ask her to stay. What can you offer her?

  Not one damn thing worth anything.

  I listened while she talked about this new life she wanted, getting more animated. Listened and hated the excitement growing in her voice as she mulled over towns and occupations. As she planned her life without me in it.

  I’d told her I couldn’t give her more and she’d accepted it fully, without question or argument.

  She wasn’t holding out hope that I’d change my mind. This wasn’t some manipulation to see if I would. London wasn’t dishonest like that. No, she’d believed me, even though, when I’d said the words to her, I wasn’t sure if I believed them myself.

  All of a sudden I didn’t want to think about her leaving. I sure as fuck didn’t want to hear the happiness in her voice when she thought about leaving me behind. Yeah, it was selfish. If anyone deserved happiness it was London. But right then, with her lying naked on top of me, after being buried deep inside her, watching her come alive, lose herself, I fucking hated it.

  I took her face in my hands and kissed her, shutting her up, taking what I needed instead. She instantly kissed me back and wrapped her arms around me, and I rolled her to her back.

  “No more talking,” I muttered against her already kiss-swollen lips.

  She looked up at me, and fuck me, those blue eyes seared me to my core. I felt branded, restless, hungry for her when I’d come only a short time ago. Lifting up, I rolled on another condom and came back down on top of her.

  Then I fucked her again. Hard and deep, probably rougher than I should, but there was no way I could rein it in. Not then. Not when I felt her slipping away from me.

  London didn’t seem to mind. No, she clung to me, met my out-of-control hunger with her own, took everything I gave her until finally her cries filled the room.

  Somehow, I’d have to let her go.

  * * *

  After dinner, London found a book that someone had left here and curled up on the couch to read while I made some calls.

  I stood on the porch, door shut behind me, phone to my ear as Hunter filled me in. I didn’t like what I was hearing.

  “We’re keeping eyes on Terrence but his twin brother, Owen, he’s smoke. If the police weren’t involved in this I’d bring Terrence in and force him to tell us where the psycho fuck was hiding. As it is, Daniels is keeping a close eye on the situation personally and getting in our way.”

  I’d bet he was. Daniels had made it clear he wanted London and he wasn’t giving up on her anytime soon. This wasn’t just another case to him. It was personal. But Connor would have to go through me to get to her and I wasn’t stepping aside until I had no other choice.

  And with the way London was talking, that would come sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  The next day I took London for a hike in the woods. Nothing too strenuous, but we both needed to leave the cabin’s four walls for a while.

  “Is this where you came with your brother?” London asked as we stood by a small lake.

  “Yeah. We’d fish down here all day, and Raul would teach us how to clean and gut whatever we caught—cook it, too.” I glanced at London. She was standing with her head tilted back, the sun on her face.

  “It’s so beautiful out here.”

  It was okay, but it didn’t compare to a sleep-rumpled London in the morning. Lips puffy, hair everywhere, not to mention the sexy little moans she made as she was waking. My mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Another reason I needed to get her out of the cabin—I couldn’t leave her alone. I wanted inside her constantly. God knew what she thought of me.

  She lifted a hand to her face. “Do I have dirt on my chin?”

  I’d been staring at her. Honestly, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I didn’t bother lying—what was the point? She knew I wanted her. I hadn’t hidden the fact. And besides, I liked the way she blushed when I told her exactly how much. I loved that even after all the dirty shit I’d said and done to her, she still seemed surprised by the stuff that came out of my mouth.

  “Not looking at your chin, sweetheart.”

  She walked closer and tipped her head back. “Where is it?”

  “There’s no dirt.”

  “Oh.” She frowned, looking adorably confused.

  See? She had no clue what I was thinking when I was sure it was written all over my face. And I took far too much pleasure in telling her. “I was looking at your mouth.”

  “My mouth?”

  I let my gaze drop down to those plump lips again. “You have sexy fucking lips, London. The kind of lips a man can’t stop thinking about, the kind he…”

  She stepped closer, lifting her hands to my chest, causing me to lose my train of thought. “The kind he what?” she said, eyes getting bright, tongue sliding over her lower lip and making me imagine it lapping at the head of my cock.

  “The kind of lips that would look hot as fuck wrapped around my cock,” I said in a voice that was pure gravel.

  As I expected, color infused her cheeks. Her lips parted, and her breathing grew choppy, but she didn’t say anything. Several seconds ticked by and then her hands slowly slid down my chest to my stomach, to the button of my jeans.

  I raised a brow and dropped my hand, covering hers, my heart banging around harder in my chest.

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said. “A lot, actually.”

  I swallowed the boulder that had formed in my throat. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “I used to imagine what would happen when I saw you again, what I’d do if I wasn’t so shy and awkward and…” She shook her head. “I had a lot of different scenarios I used to fantasize about.”

  I slid my hand down the smooth skin of her cheek. “You fantasized about me?”

  “Yes,” she said, voice breathless.

  I cursed under my breath. “Tell me,” I rasped. “Tell me what you used to fantasize about.” She licked her lips and I had to bite back a groan.

  “One of them was me coming to your apartment,” she said, voice shaky.

  She was nervous, but she was turned on, determined. It was incredibly sexy, that stark determination in her eyes, that burgeoning confidence.
And something I wanted to encourage.

  “Keep talking,” I said.

  “When you open the door, I don’t say anything. I just put my hand on your chest, like this.” She placed one of her small hands on my chest. “And I push until your back hits the wall behind you.”

  She pushed and I stepped back until my spine met the trunk of a tree.

  “Then I undo your jeans.” She popped the button and slid down the zipper. “And drop to my knees in front of you.”

  I struggled to breathe as she did that now. Dropping to her knees and staring up at me, innocence and need combined in her gorgeous eyes. “The thought of making you feel good that way, of making you come with my mouth, made me…”

  “What, London, what did it make you?” I all but snarled, voice hoarse with lust.

  She placed her hand over the rigid length of my cock, over my boxer briefs, and curled her fingers around me. “Hot and…wet.” She tugged down the front of my boxers and my dick sprang free. Her eyes lifted to mine. “Do you think the real thing would be just as exciting?” she whispered, looking so turned on I knew her pussy was already wet and throbbing.

  “Why don’t you try it and see?” I said in a voice that couldn’t have been mine.

  Her fingers curled around me again, no barrier this time, and she leaned in, her tongue darting out. She licked the head of my cock, and my knees nearly buckled. She did it again, just that, and those two innocent little licks had me close to blowing.

  She made a little mmm sound then dragged her tongue more forcefully along the underside. I reached back, hanging onto the tree behind me so I didn’t drop to my ass, and thrust my other hand in her hair, my fingers tangling in her dark locks. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she worshiped my cock with her tongue, still tentative but gaining confidence by the second.

  “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

  She tilted her head back. “Do you like it? Am I doing it right?”

  I nodded and gritted out, “You could cup my balls when you suck me. Gently roll them in your hand.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes got brighter. She did as I asked, one hand cupping my drawn-up balls. Fisting my dick with the other, she sucked the tip into the wet heat of her mouth.

  Fuck.

  Her hand gently massaged my balls, just like I’d asked. She kept it up as she sucked me deeper and started moving faster. The fingers of her other hand stayed locked around the base of my cock and she started to stroke in time with her mouth. I wasn’t going to last long. My balls were already tight and throbbing, the base of my spine tingling.

  Then she did an experimental swirl with her tongue around the swollen head, looking up to me as she did it, and I was toast.

  “Gonna come, London,” I said in warning.

  But she didn’t pull away. She worked me harder, faster. I tightened my fingers in her hair and fought not to thrust into her mouth.

  “Fuck me,” I gritted out and barked a rough sound as I shot into her sexy-as-fuck mouth.

  She blinked up at me, eyes watering, throat working as she continued to suck me, and yeah, I’d never seen anything hotter in my life. When she swallowed down the last of me and released my cock, I pulled her to her feet, my dick still blowing in the breeze, and shoved my hand down the front of her pants.

  She was so wet, so damn hot. I slammed my mouth down on hers as I shoved my fingers inside her, thrusting into her hard and fast. The hike back was too long to leave her wanting until we got to the cabin. This would tide us both over until I got her there.

  Her hips moved with my hand, grinding into it, working herself against me, taking what she needed. Her hand dropped to my lower back, then she grabbed my bare ass. Her fingers dug in as she cried out, as she started coming around my fingers, hips rolling, cries echoing around us. She dropped her head against my chest, trembling against me.

  When she finally lifted her head, I kissed her again. Fuck, she was beautiful.

  “I want you in a bed where I can fuck you properly,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly.

  We didn’t say much as we straightened our clothes.

  Wordlessly, I took her hand and we headed back to the cabin.

  I realized then that I never wanted this to end. I wanted to keep her here, safe.

  All mine.

  13

  London

  It was dusk and the insects were coming out for the night, their combined sounds almost deafening but also somehow soothing. I stared out into the forest. I liked this place. A lot. Here I didn’t have to think about what came next, what was waiting for me at home.

  How my time here with Van would all soon come to an end.

  Van and I had spent most of the day in bed. I’d taken a lot of time exploring his hard, insanely beautiful body and then he’d done the same to me.

  I knew that when it was all over between us, it would hurt. I had no doubt about that. But I had accepted what this was, and I was okay. I knew now that no matter what happened to me, how scary or awful or painful, I would be okay.

  I’d proven that already.

  This wouldn’t be any different.

  But for the time being, I intended to enjoy every second. No regrets. Live for the moment. And a whole host of other clichés that I had been reciting over and over in my head. And when we finally went our separate ways, there would no longer be any what ifs, just a whole lot of beautiful memories.

  We’d just eaten, and Van was taking a shower. I thought about joining him. The London I’d been a few weeks ago popped her head up.

  You can’t do that.

  I ignored her. I didn’t have to worry about Van turning me away or that he didn’t want me; I knew he did. And I wasn’t embarrassed about my body either—how could I be when I’d spent more time out of my clothes than in the last few days? And then there was the way Van looked at me.

  That voice in my head was an echo of the woman I used to be, and I refused to get in my own way anymore, no matter how much it frightened me. I turned to head back inside.

  A twig snapped.

  No, not a twig, something heavier. It echoed around the forest and everything went silent, no more chirping insects, just the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

  I froze, the spike of adrenaline, of fear, that I immediately felt momentarily paralyzing me. It must have been only seconds but felt much longer out there on my own.

  Another snap.

  This one closer.

  That’s when I spun and sprinted for the door, slamming it closed behind me and throwing the lock. I ran to the kitchen and dragged one of the heavy wooden chairs from the dinner table through the living room and shoved it under the door handle then ran to the bathroom and shoved open the door.

  Van was dressing and his head shot up when I flew in. He got one look at me, and I watched him go on full alert. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s out there,” I said, my breathing coming in uneven pants.

  “You saw someone?”

  I shook my head. “But I heard something. A branch snapping. Something big snapped it. Then closer. Nothing like I’ve heard since we came here.”

  I expected him to tell me not to worry, that it was an animal or a falling branch. He didn’t. He shoved on his shirt, strode to the bedroom, and came back out with his gun. Then he moved to the windows and quickly drew the curtains…

  A scream tore from me as a sound, so loud it felt like the world was coming to an end, shook the ground beneath us. The deafening sound made the walls of the cottage shake. I dropped to the floor, my hands flying up and over my head. Outside lit up, like someone had aimed a spotlight at the windows.

  Van cursed viciously and yanked back the curtain. Zeke’s car was engulfed in flames and close enough that, if we didn’t do something to stop it, the cottage would be next.

  “I need you to stay here,” Van said, dropping the curtain.

  “Don’t go out there.”

  “I need to put the fire ou
t or this place is going up with it.”

  He was right, that’s exactly what would happen. I watched as he disappeared into the kitchen and rushed back with a large fire extinguisher. His phone was to his ear and he was barking this address to someone on the other end.

  He tossed the phone on the couch then reached back, pulling his gun, and handed it to me, butt first. When I jerked my hand away, he grabbed my wrist and pushed it into my palm, curling my fingers around it.

  “All you have to do is point and shoot,” he said, without saying the words that snapped between us. If anything happens to me. He moved to the door, pulled the chair out of the way, and unlocked it. “Lock this after me.”

  I stared at him, frozen.

  “London,” he said with more force. “You need to lock this after me, understand?”

  I nodded, then he was gone.

  I shut and locked the door behind him like he said and rushed to the window, watching as he went at the fire quickly and efficiently with the extinguisher, putting out the blaze while trying to watch his surroundings. I did the same, scanning the area around him.

  Suddenly something broke away from the shadowy tree line and I screamed out a warning. The fire lit up everything at the front of the cottage and I saw the shadowed face as he moved out of the darkness, and his blond hair. It was him. Oh God, it was him.

  Van hadn’t heard me, and I watched in horror as Owen Ferida ran at him. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d run to the door, unbolted it, flung it open, and was on the porch.

  Owen was closing in, holding a knife in his hand. His head twisted toward me. He grinned and changed direction, charging at me.

  It all happened so fast. I lifted the gun and did what Van instructed me to do.

  I pointed the gun at my target and pulled the trigger.

  The gun kicked back, the sound deafening, making my ears ring. I screamed again, adrenaline pounding through me. My gaze flew to the dark heap on the ground less than a yard from Van. I’d hit him. I’d actually hit him. Then Van was beside me, warm fingers curled around my hand.