Page 31 of Merciless King

I pushed on. I’d started now; there was no going back. And despite my embarrassment, I didn’t want to. “Two years ago, you left and I, I regretted that I never, that I didn’t…”

The fingers of his other hand slid under my chin and he tilted my head back, gaze locking with mine. “What did you regret, London?”

“Will you”—I swallowed hard—“spend the night with me, one last time? Only this time, I don’t want to just…sleep.”

It was his turn to jolt, but he pulled it together quickly. I’d taken him by surprise. Did he really have no idea that I wanted him? I guessed not. I’d obviously hidden it better than I thought.

I stood my ground. He wanted me. There was no hiding it. That was all that mattered. I forced myself to take a step closer and, God, I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Please,” I whispered. “I know you’ve already given me so much, more than anyone has given me. But will you give me this?” I looked up at him. “Will you give me tonight?”

Van made a rough sound, low and gritty, then he carefully cupped the side of my face. His eyes dropped to my lips again, and I expected him to slam his mouth down on mine. I’d imagined those were the kind of kisses he gave, that he was the kind of man to take a woman.

But he didn’t. He came in slow, like he was giving me time to change my mind. There was no way in hell that was going to happen.

His lips brushed mine. Once. Twice. He lifted his head, eyes still intense, body rigid, but there was warmth there as well. The kind I’d never seen before. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Humiliation burned my skin instantly in a full-body flush. Ouch. “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. “I shouldn’t have come to you like this.” I bit my lips. “I’m sorry.”

“A fucking beautiful, sexy woman told me she wants me. Nothing to be sorry about.”

He sounded in pain, physical pain, and my gaze dropped again. He was even bigger, the huge, thick length of his cock straining against his boxer briefs.

He laughed darkly, the sound strained. “Yeah, baby, I want you. But I’m the last man you need in your bed.”

He wanted me. I straightened my spine. “You don’t need to protect me, not from you, not this.”

He cupped my face again, sliding his thumb below my bottom lip. “I wish that were true.”

I had no idea what he meant by that. He was rejecting me but making me feel more wanted than I had in my whole life. It was confusing.

My breathing had turned to needy, erratic pants and I was hot and slick between my thighs. He was standing there all big and sexy and hard, and I wanted to scream. My nipples were tight, and my top suddenly felt intolerable. “I don’t understand.”

His gaze moved over my flushed face. “You ever been fucked before, London?”

Was virgin stamped on my forehead?

“I’m talking hard, demanding, out of control,” he continued.

Okay, maybe he didn’t know I was a virgin, but he at least suspected I lacked experience. I didn’t know how to answer him.

He still held my shirt at my belly and his fist tightened around the fabric. “I’m not the man for you.”

I’d take whatever he gave me, however he gave it to me. Just one night. I’d be happy with one night. That was all I’d expected anyway.

His gaze did a sweep of my body from head to toe, and despite his words, his rejection, God, I was even more turned on, because he was beautiful, and kind, and so damn gorgeous. I thought I might self-combust.

His eyes were warm, but as he stared down at me, watched me, something shifted, got darker, deeper. “Fuck,” he ground out.

I had no idea what was going on in his head. I didn’t understand any of this. “You said you wanted me…If you’re worried about my feelings—”

“I want you so bad it hurts. I’m not exactly hiding it.”

No, he wasn’t. If anything, he seemed to want me even more than he had a few minutes ago. I wanted to reach out and touch him, take him in my hand and stroke him.

“Jesus,” he bit out. “You keep looking at me like that and I won’t be able to send you back to your room.”

My eyes shot up to his, because I’d been blatantly looking at his cock, like I was about to jump him. And there was no point pretending otherwise. I’d just knocked on his door and asked him to have sex with me. “I don’t want you to.”

He took a step closer. “You’re wet, aren’t you, baby? It aches, doesn’t it?”