Heartless: Merciless Book 2

by Winters, W.

  “Tyler took me to the corner store and we left our bikes outside, and these assholes stole them.” She laughs the kind of laugh that you force out when you want a release from the need to cry.

  “You knew Tyler?” I ask her, feeling a chill run down my skin, leaving goosebumps along their path. Nikolai told me once that when you have that feeling run through you, it means someone’s walked over your grave.

  She only nods, her eyes reflecting a sad secret, and then continues. “It had to be these guys, they were older and there were like six of them. Grown ass men who had nothing better to do than steal bikes from high school kids.” She breathes in deeply before smoothing the blanket down across her lap and telling me, “We walked home and the last ten minutes it rained the whole way. We were soaked when we got back.”

  “Daniel wasn’t there; Tyler went to him first because he didn’t like to bother Carter. None of the boys ever liked to bother him with petty stuff, you know?” she asks me, and I don’t know how to respond but she doesn’t give me time to regardless.

  “So, Carter was there and asked what happened. He was quick to anger back then, so much different from now,” she tells me, and I look at her as if she’s crazy, but she doesn’t see. She picks at the blanket and continues. “He and Tyler left together in the truck, Carter told me to stay back and within hours, both bikes were in the back of the truck safe at home. Tyler was never one to fight. He was a lover and a kind old soul, but he said those guys wouldn’t mess with us anymore. I kind of wish I’d seen what Carter had done.” She says the last words like a spoken thought that had just come to her. All I can think is that she’s probably better off not having witnessed what Carter did to those men.

  “I guess that’s not the best story,” she says and shrugs. “Sorry, I kind of suck at telling stories.”

  I offer her a soft smile and say, “I liked it.”

  “Anyway, that’s what Carter does. He takes what he wants and doesn’t take any prisoners or put up with any bullshit.”

  Her words strike me in a way I can’t explain and the same tears that she’d wiped away haphazardly at the start of her story, threaten to fall from mine.

  “Are you okay?” she asks me, although judging by the way her smile wavers, I could ask her the same.

  My lips part ready to do what I’ve always done, to tell everyone that I’m fine. To pretend like nothing’s wrong.

  “Only if you want to talk,” she quickly adds, practically tripping over her words. Even her hands come up in protest. “I’m not usually this weird, I’ve just been on edge lately and it’s so nice to be able to talk to someone else. Someone who’s not…,” she stops and holds her breath, searching for the right words but none come. I can see it in her eyes that she’s suffering like I am. Something’s wrong and I can only guess that it’s because she’s trapped here. Trapped like I am, but for such different reasons.

  “I’m okay, and I get it… I do.” My attempt to reassure her falls flat. She offers me a weak half smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

  “I wish I could tell you something,” she whispers and then shakes her head as if she’s losing her mind. Maybe I’m not the only crazy one in this room. Wiping under her eyes she looks to the door and exhales a harsh breath. “I should go.” Maybe she had a curfew time too. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to break down in front of a stranger.

  Glancing at the clock, I see nearly three hours has already passed. I feel like we’ve only just sat down.

  “Yeah, I should too.” I clear my throat and try to think of something to say that’s comforting for her even though I hardly know her. A piece of her though, her heart and soul, I know well. “I’m here if you ever want a drinking buddy,” I offer.

  “Or to binge-watch something good on Netflix?” she offers, and the genuine happiness lights up her expression.

  “Sure,” I offer her a smile with my upturned voice and imagine the loss I can already feel doesn’t exist.

  “This might sound weird,” Addison tells me as she picks up her wine glass and downs the last remaining bit before looking me in the eyes, “but you look like you could use ‘a somebody.’” She sets the glass down, the clinking of the glass breaking up the white noise that drowns me when Addison stares down at me, standing up on her way to leave. She pushes the hair off of her shoulder and tells me solemnly, “I didn’t have ‘a somebody’ for a long time. And I know how it feels.”

  It’s hard to describe the pain and hollowness of having a stranger seem to see through you and when they look there, they want to help you, to be there for you with a genuine kindness. When you look back at them, you see it too. It’s so obvious but speaking the truth would make it real, and it’s so much more comforting to run and hide or pretend like everything is okay for at least a little while.

  I have to clear my dry, scratchy throat before I tell her, “I might take you up on that.”

  Chapter 22

  Carter

  The floor creaking alerts me to her coming. The bathroom light is still on and the soft yellow light filters into the room, casting a shadow where she stands. Aria’s never looked so tempting and radiant. Licking her lips in defiance even though there’s fear and defeat in her gorgeous hazel eyes. Naked, with her skin flushed from the prospect of what’s coming, she stands there caught in my gaze.

  I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life. I know she needs this. We both need it. The last few days have been large steps back with only meager steps forward.

  She stands before me as my equal, daring, and relentless, although on the opposite side from where I stand.

  “Come,” I command her as I sit on the chair and run my hand down my right thigh.

  She walks in from the bathroom hesitantly, her body stiff but still she comes to me, stopping in front of me and waiting.

  “Sit,” I tell her, and she instinctively reaches for my hand as I pull her ass down to nestle in my crotch. She stiffens her back and continues to pretend she doesn’t need this. She knows better if only she’d open her eyes.

  “I’ve thought a lot about what’s causing tension between us.” The statement comes out deep and husky, unable to deny my desire for her. I let my middle finger slip along her shoulder and watch as it makes her nipples pebble. Her beautiful skin both flushes and at the same time pricks with goosebumps.

  “The first thing I’m going to do is punish you.” Her lips part with a quick breath, but she nods her head in understanding. “The second is to give you something you want, and something you need…” I pause my movement and wait for her beautiful hazel-green gaze to meet mine before adding, “If you take the punishment well.”

  Her breathing quickens, and I can see how her blood pumps harder in the veins of her neck but still, she nods in obedience. Her eyes continue to flicker to mine with questions, but she doesn’t ask them.

  “Lie across my lap,” I tell her gently. There’s no need to be firm, knowing what’s to come. Nervously, she obeys but tries to hold on to the chair as her balance is off and her legs dangle aimlessly.

  I adjust her, so she’s positioned perfectly, her hip on my right thigh and she gasps in protest, but it’s short-lived.

  “Hands behind your back,” I command her, and she obeys, although she’s awkward in my lap, trying to balance herself. It doesn’t matter though, the second I grip both her wrists in my left hand and press them to the small of her back, she’s steady. And that’s how she’ll stay until I decide this punishment is over. Her pussy is already glistening; the mix of fear and desire is a powerful thing.

  My blunt fingernails trail over her pale, supple ass as I give her a simple command. “Tell me why you ran from me when I gave you access to the front door.” My chest feels tight with worry that she’ll never see. I won’t allow her to question my control. Not again. Never again. She needs to know in every fiber of her being, that I can take control from her but that more than that, she needs it.

  “I need to know what set you off, Aria,�
� I say clearly enough to be sure she understands how much this means to me when she doesn’t answer.

  “I don’t know,” she tells me with a tense voice before blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

  The lying will come to an end shortly.

  Slap! My hand stings all the way down to my wrist as the bright mark lands on her right cheek and Aria cries out, her hips bucking uselessly as I hold her down with a firm grip and do the same to her other cheek. Moving to her center, I slap her there and then again on the right cheek. All the while, she writhes in my lap and cries out with muffled screams of protest.

  My heart hammers and my dick hardens when my fingers drift lower to her cunt. Her breathing hitches, and her entrance clenches around my fingertips but she gets no reward for lying to me.

  I speak softly as I gently lay my hand on her hot cheek, rubbing soothing strokes over the sensitized marks. “Tell me the truth.” My command falls into the silence that mixes with her strangled moans as the pain and pleasure combine. I dip my fingers to her cunt, letting them run through her slick folds. My middle finger trails down to her clit and I circle it once, tempting her and rewarding her obedience as she stays where she is, where she belongs on my lap. “Tell me, Aria.”

  With a shaky breath, Aria’s back attempts to bow and her thighs clench. She visibly swallows, and I know she’s going to cum, so I stop. My finger is still pressed against her, but without the movement, she lifts her eyes to mine, breathing heavily with her lips parted.

  “I don’t know,” she answers, her mesmerizing hazel eyes begging me to believe her. I don’t wait for her to prepare. I spank her other cheek and then move back to the right before returning to the left repeatedly, feeling a burn that runs up my arm as my hand goes numb.

  Aria’s scream echoes in the room as her body stiffens across my lap. She seethes, sucking in air through clenched teeth as tears prick her eyes. My own breathing rages from me as I land the last blow and keep her steady where she is.

  Gulping for breath and hanging her head low while attempting to fight the need to struggle against the hold I have on her, she turns her head away from me. But I see the tears.

  Instantly, I place my hand over her heated skin, ignoring how she jumps and applying enough pressure to soothe the pain. My heart skips once, then twice as she struggles to maintain her composure, the tears falling freely as her face reddens.

  “I’ve got you,” I whisper to her and she turns to glance up at me, a look of pure hate on her expression. “Tell me what happened, and it stops,” I offer her again, and watch as her bottom lip wavers. “I won’t let you go until you tell me.”

  Her face crumples and she sobs out, “It’s stupid,” before letting the tears fall again.

  I continue rubbing soothing circles, occasionally squeezing her ass to keep the blood flowing and the nerve endings on edge. The endorphins flowing in her blood will make her pleasure that much greater. Both the body and mind always prefer pleasure to pain.

  And I’ll give her both. Although she hates me now, she’ll love me when this is over.

  My fingers drift to her core this time, pressing inside of her and I’m instantly rewarded with her arching her neck, her eyes closed as a small moan of pleasure drifts from her reddened lips. Her cheeks are tearstained, and a few droplets still linger on her lashes.

  Her cunt clamps around my fingertips, begging me for more.

  A strangled moan fills the hot air as my cock hardens even more and presses against her belly. Fuck, I want her. I need to have her tonight and claim her again. To remind her of how much she belongs with me.

  “Tell me now, Aria,” I demand, my voice deep and rumbling with the need I feel alive in every cell of my body.

  She only whimpers, and then defiantly shakes her head. “I don’t know, I swear I--”

  Before she can even finish, I slap her ass as hard as I can. The pain that had numbed brightens back to life. Under her ass cheeks, on her ass, on her pussy. I spank her in a new spot each time, rotating between them but the pace is ruthless, the slaps unforgiving. My jaw clenches and the pain rips up my arm as she screams out.

  “Stop lying to me,” I barely get the command out through clenched teeth as I stop the punishment, forcing myself to breathe and instantly soothe her reddened skin.

  She heaves in a breath and then another. A shudder runs down her body that morphs her sobs to moans. She’s close to this being so much more. But what I want are answers and she won’t cum until I get them. I’ll make damn sure of that.

  The hair on the side of her face, wet from her tears, is stuck to her skin as she says, “I saw the date.”

  Her upper body rocks and she tries to move away from me, groaning with a pained expression before telling me, “I saw the date on your phone.” Her words are spastic at best, but I know I heard her right.

  My breathing is still erratic, my hand stinging with pain and my lungs refusing to move as I take in what she’s telling me.

  My fingers loosen on her wrists slowly as I wrap my arm around her waist, careful not to touch her ass until I’m ready to set her on my lap.

  She winces and seethes, not moving her arms even though she freely could.

  Bringing her into my chest, I let her collapse in my arms. Her hands lift to my shoulders as the tears soak into my shirt. The feel of her cheek on my shoulder as she buries her head in the crook of my neck is already a soothing balm to me.

  “You saw the date?” I prompt her to tell me more. To explain it to me as I comfort her.

  “The day before was my mother’s--” she gasps, not finishing and I run my hand up and down her back, letting her cling to me.

  I shush her, letting my warm breath whisper along her hair and I wait for her to settle.

  “You missed the anniversary of your mother’s death?” I ask her, feeling a pain inside me crumple every bit of strength I have.

  “Yes,” she croaks and tries to climb closer to me as if she wasn’t already pressed against me. “It was the first time,” she says in between breaths, “that I didn’t go to her grave.”

  Holding her while she cries, knowing the pain she’s feeling could have been avoided so easily. I could have done something to help her, even if it meant gathering dozens of men to protect her while she saw to her mother’s grave. I could have done something if only I’d known.

  “I’m sorry.” I try to put every ounce of compassion into my apology. “Please believe how sorry I am,” I say and kiss her hair, her shoulder and then pull her away to kiss her swollen red lips.

  She buries herself back into the crook of my neck and then cries out as her ass brushes against my pants.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I say as I maneuver her on my lap, so I have access to her cunt. “Hold on to me,” I command her, and she does instantly. She needs someone to hold and someone to hold her, I’ve never been more sure of it.

  “This will make the pain go away,” I tell her, although my words are hollow. Pleasure can hide only one specific kind of pain. I rub her clit first, letting the intensity from the unique pleasure that comes after both pain and mourning flow through her.

  She bites down on my shoulder, her fingernails digging into my skin through my shirt. She writhes on my lap, so close to the edge already, although each time her ass brushes against the fabric of my pants, her voice hitches, and her grip on me tightens.

  Pressing my fingers inside her, I stroke her ruthlessly and butt my palm against her clit. Her back bows and I have to hold her closer to me, laying my hand against her shoulder.

  “Cum for me,” I whisper in her ear. My cock is hard and desperate to be wrapped in her hot cunt, but I can’t take my pleasure from her like this.

  It’s all for her.

  “Carter,” she gasps my name as her body rocks with pleasure and her head falls back. I don’t stop until she’s trembling, and her cries have stopped completely.

  My heart races against hers, sweat covering my skin and every muscle in my bo
dy coiled.

  Time passes slowly as I wait until she’s calm and coherent. And each second, I carefully select the words she needs to hear.

  With weak balance, she finally lifts her head to look me in the eyes. Her expression pinches as she leans back, feeling her raw ass brush against my pants once again, but this time her lips part and another orgasm threatens from the faint touch.

  “I need more from you,” I tell her, breaking her moment and forcing her hazel eyes to stare into mine.

  “I have you here,” I say as I let my fingers fall to her pussy and then cup it, watching as she gasps, throwing her head back and rocking herself into my hand. My lips drop to her throat, whispering against her skin, “So needy.”

  Before she can get off again, I stop and wait for her eyes to reach mine, dark with desire and lit with lust. “I’m getting to you here,” I tell her and smooth her hair back on the crown of her head.

  A moment passes with a tense beating in my chest before I drop my fingers to her chest, between her bare breasts and ask her, “What about here?”

  My eyes flicker between where I’m touching her and her own gaze, now swirling with a hopelessness and sadness I wish I could take away.

  The ever-present vise tightens on my heart as she asks me in a whisper, “If I gave you that, what would I have left?”

  It tightens further, and my heart refuses to beat. The answer is so obvious. “You’d have me.” I watch her expression remain unchanged and I have to look away.

  Breathing in deeply, I ignore whatever I’m feeling, every last bit of it, knowing logically, she’s close. I know she is.

  She comes and goes, and that’s because of her father. If he wasn’t in the picture, she would be mine completely. And Nikolai…

  “You know what I need, Carter,” Aria finally speaks and when she does her voice cracks. Tears linger in her eyes. “For you to have my heart, you can’t destroy it. You can’t kill them.”

  I cave. Knowing what this could be, I offer her something, just to have a chance to break through the wall that guards her heart. “I’ll call him, but you’ll be silent.”