Page 25 of Merciless King

“Easy,” I said. “I’m just taking you to your room then I’m going to mine.”

Her eyes locked onto mine for the second time that day, and I felt her start to tremble. “I don’t…I don’t want to be alone, Van. Will you stay with me?”

She’d had another shock today, another blow. Her request was innocent. The woman wanted company, nothing more, but if she was sleeping with me, it was in my bed. So I carried her to my room and lowered her onto my bed. Her head twisted this way and that, taking in my room, looking kinda confused.

Even though her stuff was in the next room, I grabbed one of my shirts from a drawer and tossed it to her. “You can wear that. Bathroom’s through there if you need it. I’m gonna make sure everything’s locked up.”

I made sure the alarm was set and switched off the lights, and fucked around a little while out in the living room to give her time to change. And to get my shit together. Knowing that London was sliding between my sheets had my neurons firing to life, putting two and two together and coming up with fucking twelve.

How many times had I thought about this woman in my bed? Too many.

But London was there for comfort, for protection. I knew it. My dick, on the other hand, was having a hard time understanding the concept.

When I walked back into the bedroom, London was under the covers. Yeah, fuck, I liked that. I liked seeing her in my bed a whole fucking lot. She didn’t look up as I walked in, had her eyes shut. She wasn’t asleep, though. I could tell by the way she was breathing.

I hit the bathroom and had a quick shower, somehow ignoring my iron-hard cock. Jerking it with her in the next room would not be a good move on my part, I knew that much. I usually slept naked, but I tugged on the boxer briefs I’d taken in with me and hoped she didn’t decide to open her eyes when I walked back in. The woman had enough to deal with. Having me walk toward her with the mother of all hard-ons would not help anyone.

I made it to the bed without her copping an eyeful and slid between the sheets, keeping some space between us. Sleep wasn’t what I wanted right then. I was in pain I was so hard and hungry for the female beside me. I’d never slept with a woman, not like this—just slept. I’d never had a woman in my bed before, either. When I wanted a woman, I made sure all parties knew the score, that we wanted the same thing. We fucked, we both got off, and I left. This was all new to me.

She wasn’t touching me, but I was sure I could feel heat radiating from her body. The gnawing grip of hunger grew stronger, the feeling of rightness having her there in my place, in my bed, was more than I knew what to do with. This was dangerous, having her with me like this, because my obsession with her had not dimmed or waned over the last two years.

I wanted her still, in every way.

I wanted to possess her.

Make her mine.

Never let her go.

What was it about this woman? How was it that every part of her called to every part of me? Because that’s how it felt.

And just when I thought I couldn’t take another moment, she moved. Without a word, she rolled toward me and closed the space between us, curling into my side. She didn’t put her hands on me, just pressed her body against me like she was desperate for human contact. My own needs dissolved, flew out the window.

“Come here,” I said and pulled her closer.

She made a soft sound. A sob.

I thought I’d had a problem five fucking minutes ago. That sound, yeah, something shifted inside me and whatever I thought I felt for her before looked like a speck in the distance compared to the vast expanse of what I had going on inside me now.

She had her hands tucked into herself and I reached down, took one, and draped her arm over my stomach, enfolding her in my arms. She lay with me, body shaking as she cried silently.

* * *

I woke two hours later to London clawing at me, screaming. Christ, the terror in her voice shredded me. I wrapped her in my arms, holding her, talking to her the whole time. Letting her know again that she was safe. That she wasn’t alone. That I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And I’d keep saying it until it sunk in.

Eventually, she stopped shaking and crying.

I kept my arms around her, holding on tight for the rest of the night.

No fucking way was I letting her go.

* * *

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall in Neco’s office. The guy was our resident tech expert. He knew his shit. And he’d easily gained access to CCTV footage outside London’s apartment and her store. Which meant we now knew he guy who delivered the pizza to her was the same guy who terrorized her in her store.

And we’d managed to ID the fucker.

I wanted to be the one to bring him in for several reasons, so I’d called in favors, put out some feelers of my own. It paid off. I didn’t know if the cops had gotten this far—Connor wasn’t in the sharing mood—but I was sure they had their hands full with a bunch of other cases. They always had their hands full.