Page 24 of Merciless

A shiver rips through her as the water droplet runs over her skin.

“So?” I prompt when she doesn’t respond to my assumptions about why she landed herself here.

But all she does is glare.

That look. Fuck me, that look makes my cock hard.

The need to break her is all-consuming.

She doesn’t think I’ll manage it. She thinks that she’s stronger than me, smarter than me.

She’s wrong.

The only thing she’s got on her side is her beauty. She knows it too.

That’s why she pulled that move earlier while I was binding her legs. But if she thinks she’ll crack my resolve with one flash of her pussy, then she’s got another thing coming.

She could put on the best fucking strip show in the world and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Let’s recap what we know, shall we?” I start when she makes it more than obvious that I’m going to be the only one talking right now.

That’s fine. I’m happy to fill the silence for a while. Make her think she might win in this battle of wills that will only end one way.

“Kane has been keeping you entertained because you’re a bored, lonely, under-loved housewife.

“What exactly is wrong with your husband, Alana? Gay? Impotent?”

Her eyes narrow at my guesses.

“Should have been a woman?”

Her right eyebrow twitches in anger.

“Or does he have better standards? Did he marry you thinking you were young and innocent and then discover that you’re nothing but a filthy whore?”

Another twitch.

Oh, I’m hitting a soft spot.

“So Kane keeps you entertained. That’s his job. But then you turn up out of the blue when Kane is doing everything in his power to start his life over and announce that you’re pregnant.

“It’s bullshit, obviously. Pretty sure everything that falls from your pouty lips is. Because you’ve been hurt so badly in the past that you’re unable to conceive.”

I might be a cold-hearted bastard with few morals and more blood on my hands than I’d ever confess to, but even the thought of what she might have been through makes me wince.

I’m all for hurting those who deserve it. I fucking thrive on it, in fact.

But innocent kids.

Nah, I fucking draw the line there.

As far as I know, Mav married Alana when she was barely eighteen.

I didn’t know much about her prior to her being Mrs. Murray. She was homeschooled while her sister attended Harrow Creek Middle School.

I never asked why. Didn’t give a fuck. I was too busy ruling that fucking place with JD at my side and my brothers and Kane, following close behind.

Our dads might have been tight. But I didn’t have time to worry about some girl who never seemed to leave their house.