Page 50 of Merciless King

“Picked up supplies on the way,” he said, sitting down to join me. “I let you sleep.” His lips curled up in a grin.

It was a really nice grin, one that made me squirm in my seat, but it was knowing. Had my mouth been hanging open while I slept? I envisioned myself sitting beside him with my head at a weird angle, drooling. I blushed.

“You carried me in?”

He nodded and started eating. I did the same after adding some syrup.

I took a bite of mine. So good. “Whose cabin is this?”

“A man named Raul. He’s like a father to Hunter and me. We’d come here with him when we were teenagers and fish, hike. When Raul thought we needed an attitude adjustment, or in his words, needed to get our heads out of our asses, he brought us here.” Van grinned again. “We came here a lot.”

I laughed. “I can tell you like it here.”

“Yeah?” His head tilted to the side.

“You seem…different.” When he just stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate, I added, “Um, less intense.”

He didn’t comment, his eyes moving over my face, down to my lips. I licked them, assuming there was food on them, and Van made a rough sound.

Okay, no, maybe not less intense. I was starting to think that was impossible.

“Will Connor be able to reach me here if he has news about the case?”

Something flickered though Van’s eyes. “Yeah, I called him when we got here last night. He knows how to reach me.”

Going by the edge to his voice, Connor wasn’t a subject he was in the mood to discuss. We finished our breakfast, and I took the plates up to the sink and rinsed them off.

Van’s chair scraped and his boots thumped on the floor. “Leave those.”

I turned. He was still in his chair, but it was out from the table and he was angled toward me, watching me.

“Come here,” he said softly.

I moved to him instantly, like there was a gravitational pull dragging me closer. When I reached him, he tugged me forward, pulling me onto his lap, and stared into my eyes. “Morning,” he muttered then slid his hand into my hair. He kissed me slow and deep, and like all things Van King, it was intense.

Mmm. He tasted like maple syrup.

He lifted his head and kissed along my jaw. “I think I might go back to bed,” he said against my ear.

I shivered. “Are you tired?” I somehow missed what he was saying, God knew how, when he was nibbling and suckling the skin below my ear. But it was only for a moment, because when he pulled back, his intent was written all over his handsome face.

“No,” he said.

“Oh.”

Van chuckled and stood, lifting me with him, and strode to the bedroom.

12

London

I watched in awe as Van flipped to his back and his long, thick fingers rolled a condom down his hard cock. His abs were tight, every muscle bunching and rolling while he worked it onto the impressive length jutting from his fighter’s body.

As soon as he was done, his hungry gaze lifted to me and he crooked a finger.

I was naked, my body, my scars, on full display, and doing my best not to be self-conscious about it. It was easier than I thought with Van looking at me like that, like I was the sexiest, most desirable woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Climb on, baby.”