Heartless (Merciless Book 2)

I’m surprised I slept as well as I did.

No terrors, just a much-needed deep sleep. From whenever Carter brought me to bed, until nearly 2 p.m. this afternoon.

There isn’t enough sleep to mend the exhaustion I feel, but I’m grateful I’ve gotten through one night undisturbed.

As I shift on the wooden floor in Carter’s office, the ache in my muscles intensifies and I wince. I’m so fucking sore from last night. From this whole past week, maybe. I don’t know if this is normal or not, but I hurt. Every moment of the day, I feel him inside of me still and it takes me to the edge of both pleasure and pain.

Both physically and emotionally.

There’s no denying Carter is a broken and lost soul. And there’s no denying that I want to make all the wrongs in his past right.

My mind is a whirlwind of what I wish could be undone, but there are no answers that take pity on me and provide me with clarity. All I can think to do is offer him kindness. To obey, to be good for him. And maybe he’ll feel something other than the anger and hate that cloud his judgment.

I can only imagine the world he grew up in. The small pieces I’ve been given are jagged and harsh.

I shouldn’t pity the monster he became.

I shouldn’t love what he does to me.

But I do.

The short piece of chalk rolls back and forth between my fingers as I study the paper lying on the floor. I can’t remember what I drew at the park. The questions I had in my dream from not last night but the night before, are still alive and vibrant in my mind.

I can’t help but to think there are answers in my subconscious. Answers in my dreams.

But I can’t remember what I drew that day.

Instead, I keep drawing the same thing, the house from the photograph in the hall. It’s quaint and small, with rustic features. It’s definitely a backroad setting but there are other houses beside it. Close to each other.

The brick was old, and the mortar seemed even older. The weeds that grew up the side of it felt as if they belonged there like nature was intent on reclaiming the structure.

Whoever took the photograph captured the beauty of the home perfectly, but why does it call to me? Why do I keep drawing it and only changing the flowers that grow around it?

“There are four steps.” Carter’s voice breaks into my thoughts and I glance up at him, not registering his words. He takes his time rolling up the crisp, white sleeves of his dress shirt. I can’t help but admire the corded muscles under his tanned skin and remember how his hands gripped me last night, leaving bruises on my hips that still ache to the touch.

He gestures to the drawing. “The front porch had four steps.”

It takes me a moment to comprehend and I offer him a small smile before asking him, “This was your house, wasn’t it?”

He nods and adds, “You make it seem more alluring than it was.”

My heart tugs and a small knot forms in my throat as he returns to his laptop. Maybe if he grows to care for me, everything can be okay. It can be made right.

What a naïve thought.

“What are you thinking?” Carter’s question brings me back to the present again.

“I keep drifting into thoughts I shouldn’t,” I answer him without much conscious consent. Maybe I’ve rested so much that the sleep refuses to leave me, making me drowsy and my thoughts hazy.

“Like?” he prompts.

“Like, wondering why I love this house so much,” I answer him cautiously although my gaze stays on the paper.

“I hate that house,” Carter says after a moment and I move my eyes to his. The coldness in his eyes is ever present and it sends a chill down my spine.

“You hate everything,” I tell him absently.

“I don’t hate you,” he says pointedly, and his rebuttal sends a warmth flowing through me.

“How do you feel about me then?” I ask him and busy my fingers with the piece of chalk.

His words are softly spoken and it’s the first admission from him of any kind. “The very idea that you’re mine makes me feel as if there isn’t a thing I can’t conquer. But actually having you is… everything.”

I don’t know if he realizes how powerful his words are. How intense he is. Just being around him is suffocating. Nothing else can exist when he’s with me.

“What do you remember about last night?” he asks me, and I blink away the trance he held over me.

“Everything,” I answer him as if it’s obvious. “You came home. We had a conversation and then more on the kitchen floor…” I trail off and my teeth sink into my bottom lip at the memory. “And then you took me to bed.”

Carter nods slowly as if gauging my response. “You don’t remember what you told me when we got to bed? Do you?” My heart flickers once, then twice as I try to remember.

But I don’t.

“I fell asleep,” I tell him as if it’s an excuse.

It’s quiet for a long moment and an uneasiness washes through me. Like I’ve said something that I should regret but I don’t know what it was. Swallowing thickly, I steel myself to ask, “What did I say?”

But he doesn’t answer me, he only tsks in response.

A pounding in my chest and blood makes me feel on edge until Carter rises and stalks toward me. He looms over me, owning me with his presence as he likes to do. My eyes close as he lowers his hand to the crown of my head gently and then twirls a lock of hair between his fingers.

My heart races with his touch and I don’t know if it’s from fear or lust.

“All I want to do is fuck you until there’s no question in your mind who you belong to.” His admission forces my thighs to clench and that tender ache returns.

The tension and fear dissipate with each small touch he gives me.

“If you gave yourself to me, everything else would fall into place.”

His fingers trail lightly along my collarbone and up my chin then move to my lips, tracing them with a tender touch that I would have once found difficult to believe belongs to Carter.

“Is that all? Just give myself entirely to you to use as a fucktoy? That would solve everything?” My comeback is weakened by the gentle way the words flow, the flirtation that I can’t deny in their cadence.

His cock is right in front of my face, obviously hard and pressing against his pants. My mouth parts and my fingers itch to reach out and take him.

The throbbing between my thighs intensifies and I struggle to remind myself that I’m his captive, his fucktoy, his whore, and nothing more. All I can think is how much I want to pleasure him like he did me last night.

I want to bring him to his knees and make him weak for my touch like I am his.

“I want to…” I have to stop myself and swallow my words, feeling dirty.

He crouches in front of me, his gaze penetrating mine with an intensity that begs me to lean away from him, to run from the beast of a man who isn’t hiding anything from me.

His darkly said words are whispered from his lips. “Tell me what you want, Aria.”

“I- I-” I stutter. Like an insignificant unequal.

It takes every ounce of courage in me to raise my gaze to his, to inhale a breath, and on the exhale confess, “I want to suck you.”

“You want to wrap these pretty little lips around my cock until I cum in the back of your throat?” he asks easily with a huskiness that comes from deep in his chest, moving his pointer to my lips and tracing them once again.

I nod, forcing his finger to alter its path and graze against my cheek instead. I’m breathless, full of desire and want, numb to everything but him.

What has he done to me?

The thought hits me as he leaves me panting on the floor to grab one of the chairs in front of his desk and move it directly in front of me. He wastes no time, performing the task quickly.

He doesn’t speak as he sits down, both of his hands resting easily on his thighs.

My hand is shaky as I lift it to his zipper, but he catches me before I touch him. His grip is hot and demanding and steals my attention and breath just the same.

I’m pinned by the lust in his eyes as he asks me, “Have you done this before?” He tilts his head to ask, “Have you done anything before me?”

“Yes,” I answer him although it feels like a half-truth and just thinking that I’m partially lying to him makes my pulse quicken and body heat. It’s not the same. What I did with Nikolai wasn’t anywhere close to this. We were young, and I needed someone to offer me comfort. Nikolai was the only one there for me. I kissed him first, and I begged him to touch me.

I loved him, and I knew he loved me. Even if he would only ever be a friend.

But my father could never know about us and when Nik moved up in the ranks and I grew bolder, my father grew suspicious. I don’t think Nikolai ever wanted to risk his position for me.

And I didn’t want to risk our friendship.

What I had with him was nothing like this.

“Who was it?” Carter asks me. “More than one?” His head tilts as he releases my hand and my heart beats like a war drum.

“None of your business,” I tell him playfully and grab both of his wrists to move his hands to the armrests of the chair. “Let me play,” I tell him as if it’s a command, but the words come out as if I’m begging.

He doesn’t answer me, but his fingers wrap around the armrests and he doesn’t say anything to stop me.

I fumble with the button, my nerves getting the better of me as I move to my knees in between his legs. The sound of his pants rustling and the deep hum of desire from Carter’s chest fuel me to ignore my nerves.

He lifts his hips to help me after I unzip his pants and his cock juts out in front of my face. Shock catches me off guard. It’s larger than I thought. Veiny and thick. Instantly, I wonder how he fit inside of me. Squirming in front of him, I know he knows what I’m thinking. The rough and masculine chuckle gives it away.

I glance up at him as I wrap his dick with both my hands. I can’t possibly close my fingers around him, but the part that worries me is how I’ll fit him in my mouth.

I imagined taking all of him and pleasuring him to the point where he couldn’t control himself, but now I question if I can take a fraction of him without gagging.

Slowly, Carter lifts his hand as if asking for permission and moves it to the back of my head. “You can lick it first,” he offers low and deep, not hiding how his breathing has hitched.

The bead of precum at his slit entices me to lick it, and so I do. A blush and pride rise to heat my cheeks as the man seated in front of me shudders at my touch.

His large hand splays and brings me closer to him, urging me on for more. But I tsk him, grabbing his hand and placing it back where it belongs on the armrest.

He readjusts in his seat, but his eyes never leave mine. They’re darker than before, which only makes the silver specks stand out even more. The heat there leaves me wanting and I lean forward, finding my pleasure by covering the head of his cock with my lips.

The salty taste of precum and the feel of Carter’s thighs tightening under my forearms as I brace myself, make me moan with my mouth full of him.

“Fuck,” he groans, and his hips buck slightly, pushing him further into my mouth, moving against the roof and down my throat. And I take him easily, although my teeth scrape along his dick.

Using my lips to shield my teeth, I put pressure on his cock, taking every inch of him that I can.

My eyes burn as I lower myself more and more, and each time I get hotter and hotter for him. The thought of getting on top of him and taking my pleasure from him crosses my mind, but I resist. I want to show him I can give him pleasure like he gives me.

My nails dig into my thighs as I feel the head of his dick hit the back of my throat. It takes everything I have not to react. To not pull away and gasp for air as he suffocates me when his hips tip up and he shoves himself just a bit past my breaking point.

I sputter slightly, forcing him out of my mouth so I can breathe. I lean back but I don’t stop. Even knowing there’s saliva around my mouth, I keep working his cock with my hand and quickly take him back in and try to deep throat him again. The deep, gruff groan that Carter unleashes as I hollow my cheeks makes me feel like a queen. Like a powerful queen able to bring this man to his knees.

Through my lashes, I peek at him. At his stiff position and his blunt nails digging into the leather of his chair as he holds onto it instead of reaching out for me. My eyes drift upward as I take him deeper, trying to swallow. And at that moment Carter breaks.

“Enough,” he bites out and stands up, pulling his cock from my mouth and leaving me on my ass in front of him. My palms hit the floor hard, but I don’t care. The only feeling in my body I care about is the throbbing pulse between my thighs.

I can barely control my breathing as I look up at him. Carter Cross. Unhinged and unable to give up control. “I want you,” I plead with him from beneath him.

It’s true. I want him, and I’m unwilling to hide that fact any longer.

He turns his back to me, his pants sagging around his waist until he shoves them down, showing me his tight ass and muscular thighs.

His forearm braces against his desk and in one swift motion he clears it all to the floor. The phone, pens, his laptop, the papers. They flutter and crash to the ground all at once, but none of those things matter. The only thing I can do is stay victim to the intensity of Carter’s needs.

“I want you to ride my face. I need to feel you cum on my tongue.” His words make the ache between my thighs even greater. My need to feel him come undone even stronger.

My legs feel weak and ready to buckle as I stand, but it doesn’t matter. Carter grips my hips and forces a yelp from me as he lies across his desk, his still-hard cock jutting out as he lets me sit on his chest.

Before a single word is spoken in between my gasps for breath, Carter shoves my skirt up and shreds my panties.

As I watch the tattered lingerie fall to the floor, Carter reaches for my blouse, ripping it from the top and exposing my breasts. He tears at my clothes like they’re nothing. And they may as well be, judging by how quickly and easily they fall to his whim.

He said he wanted me to ride him. But Carter’s a fucking liar. His fingers grip the flesh of my hips and ass and he keeps me right where he wants me. He drags his tongue from my opening up to my clit, where he sucks to the point of me falling forward with a blinding pleasure that lights every nerve ending on fire.

My breasts hit the desk above his head and as I scream out, the door to the office opens.

I cover myself and try to hide, but Carter’s still ravaging my pussy when I catch Daniel’s shocked expression.

“Fuck,” is all he says, and he turns as quickly as he can to leave, reaching behind him for the doorknob but failing to grab it. I’d laugh if I wasn’t petrified, knowing I’m about to cum. The pleasure swirls into a storm in my belly and threatens to ride through every limb, moving to the tips of my fingers in waves.

“I’m going to cum,” I cry out to the ceiling as Carter lifts me off him, shoving me down against his hard cock where it brushes against my ass, so he can see who the hell opened the door.

The door slams shut finally, and Carter sits up, making me fall back against the desk while his thick cock runs along the length of my pussy and I cum. The feel of his cock just barely brushing up against my entrance is what does it.

I cum violently, with my face and every inch of my body heated. I can hear Carter grabbing his pants and pulling them up his legs even as the pleasure rolls through me, paralyzing me and heating my body all at once.

Daniel Cross, brother to the most powerful man I’ve ever met, just witnessed me riding Carter’s face and taking my pleasure from him.

I shudder as my hand reaches up to cover my breasts. I can barely breathe as I hear Carter pull up his zipper.

I should feel shame of some sort. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I feel nothing but sated, breathless and fulfilled.

“I have to see what Daniel needs. Leave one heel on each side of the desk,” Carter commands me while grabbing each of my ankles and spreading my legs apart on his desk. “Wait for me.”

He grips my hips, pulling me closer to the edge of the desk as I nod. My skirt is rumpled around me and my hands instantly move to my pussy.

“If you want to touch yourself, do it.” His command comes in between his ragged breaths. “Cum as much as you want while I’m gone.”

I lie there, my back on his desk, my ass directed to the seat he rules in and my chest heaving as he leaves me.

I’m still catching my breath when I hear the door close.

Touch yourself, I hear his words again and moan just from the command. From the deep voice and cadence that can only come from a man’s voice filled with desire.

My fingers trail over my clit, but I can’t do it.

I’m so sensitive to even the slightest touch that I have to stop my movements before pushing myself over. I can’t do it. It’s so intense, I simply can’t bring myself to the edge.

I clench around nothing, I picture Carter between my legs, on top of me, smothering me with his weight as he pounds into me and I have to scissor my legs. My hands fly to my hair, pushing it from my face and trying to get a grip.

When I open my eyes, I stare at the blank ceiling, accompanied only by my heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock.

It doesn’t stop ticking, but with each stroke, my needs diminish, and my sanity comes back to me.

I lie there for what feels like hours, and when I check the clock, it’s accurate. Over an hour has passed, my back is stiff and the desire I had is all but gone, subdued by concern, replaced with a feeling of rejection. As I sit up, everything hurts. My back, especially. I stare at the door, willing Carter to come to get me. But he doesn’t come back.

Not this hour and not the next.

Any bit of power I felt, fades to nothing, which is exactly what I feel like when I slink out of the room, covering myself with the torn shirt.

I haven’t stopped staring at the clock in the bedroom and wondering if I should go back to the office. I can’t possibly lie there waiting for him for hours. I’m almost certain he didn’t expect that when he left me.

But every minute that passes warns me to go back. To stop defying Carter and show him that I can be what he wants, and maybe that would convince him to do what I want. To spare my family.

The pride and thrill are long gone and in their place only uncertainty.

All I’m doing is worrying as I restlessly wait in Carter’s bed.

The moment I hear the click of the door opening, I sit up straight in bed, getting on my knees, clutching the sheets to my chest.

Carter walks in slowly, his gaze on the floor. He looks exhausted and beat down like I’ve never seen him. I can’t get a word out, shocked by the sight of him in this state, but the excuses I’ve drummed up and rehearsed in the last few hours don’t matter anyway.

He apologizes. Carter apologizes to me for the second time in only a matter of two days.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting this long. I didn’t realize…” his voice trails off as he heads to the dresser, carelessly dropping his Rolex into a drawer and then taking his time to strip down.

The muscles in his shoulders ripple as he undresses with his back to me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him, daring to pry.

His five o’clock shadow is thick, and his eyes look heavy. It’s only then that I wonder if he slept at all last night.

I barely sleep as it is, and Carter’s always awake when I drift off and always out of bed when I wake up.

“Daniel isn’t in a good place at the moment,” he tells me in a single drawn-out breath before climbing into bed.

“Problems with Addison?” I can only guess.

Carter’s gaze turns curious, but also guarded as he watches me scoot closer to him. I wonder how much of this is an act, and how much of this is really my desire to get closer to Carter as I let my hand fall to his chest. It’s awkward at first for me to lay my cheek on his bare chest while my fingers play with the smattering of chest hair that leads lower and lower. But the more he allows it, the more he wraps his arm around me like I belong there, the more comfortable I feel taking what I want from him.

“What do you know about her?” he asks me, and I feel the words rumble from his chest.

“Just that she’s with Daniel,” I tell him and then remember the first time I saw her. How upset both of them were over something I wasn’t privy to. I add quietly, “I think they love each other.”

I don’t have to look up to know that Carter’s smiling, but I do. But the small smile is weak; the bleakness can’t be hidden even by Carter’s handsome lips.

“She’s not handling lockdown well,” he confides in me. Lockdown. I’ve heard the term more than once. I know what it means, and it reminds me of the reality. My father would often leave me in the safe house for days at a time if he had to leave during lockdown. It was better when he would only be gone for hours and I could hide in my room, which I did regardless of whether we were on lockdown or not.

The words are barely spoken as my chest tightens. “I can imagine.”

“You stayed in your cell for longer than I thought you would without submitting to me. You have a mental strength that most don’t.” I don’t know how to take Carter’s statement. It’s not a compliment, although it feels like it.

“Still, I can see her wanting to leave. To not be…” I try to think of the right word, a word that won’t upset Carter and ruin the conversation. My fingers weave around the thin chain ever present around my neck. The expensive necklace that’s truly a collar.

“Tethered?” Carter questions and I can only nod, my cheek brushing against his chest as I stare straight ahead.

The silence lasts longer than I’d like it to, but all I can do is listen to the steady rhythm of Carter’s heart until he speaks.

“She’s safe here. She’s cared for.” The way he says his words is careful, yet tense. That, combined with the way his heart picks up its pace, makes me think we’re not talking about Addison anymore.

“What would you tell her then?” I ask him, wanting an insight into Carter’s thoughts. “The moment she’s alone and the thoughts of leaving race back to her?” I have to know what he would say. “What would you tell her?”

Carter moves for the first time since I’ve settled next to him. He lifts the arm wrapped around me and lets his fingers slowly trail along my skin as if he’s carefully considering his answer. He kisses my hair once, then twice before using his other hand to lift up my chin and force me to look at him. His touch is gentle. So gentle it could break me.

“I’d tell her she has someone here who loved her before she even knew the darkest levels to where love can take you. And that there’s no better protection from the shit life we lead than that.”

My heart stops. I feel it cease to beat as he continues to stare at me, and I can’t will it to move again. There’s nothing but sincerity in his gaze and the last bit of guard I have crumbles.

Love. The word love breaks something deep inside of me.

“I need this one for me,” Carter says before I can respond. He rolls over, pinning me beneath him and fucks me roughly, kisses me ravenously and then holds me to him, my back to his chest. All the while I break more and more. So much so, that I know I’ll never be the same again.