Page 83 of Merciless Prince
In that moment, I was powerless against her. It was something I’d never felt with a woman before; a complete inability to resist or keep my cool despite my better judgment. Shay had seized every ounce of control I had, and it pissed me the fuck off. I could only think of one way to deal with it.
Take that control back.
I pulled her into the hall upstairs, pushed her up against the wall, and roughly fucked her until she could barely stand. Then I left her trembling on the floor and walked away without a word, regret slicing through me like a hot knife as the post-climax clarity set in.
What the fuck was I thinking? It couldn’t happen again. Itwouldn’thappen again.
That resolve lasted all of six days.
I found myself thinking about Shay and watching her all the time, and it wasn’t just to make sure she was staying quiet about the grotto incident. I secretly ached for glimpses of her face and body, fantasizing about her sweet scent and tight pussy, and I spent hours watching the live feed of her dorm, fisting my cock to the sight of her sleeping, getting dressed, or getting herself off beneath her sheets.
It wasn’t enough. Soon, my sense of control started to slip again, and it finally got to a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. Repeatedly jerking off over one woman was for pathetic teenage boys who couldn’t get what they wanted. I could. I always did. Shay didn’t have to be an exception to that rule, and as long as I was careful, no one would ever need to find out about our trysts.
Not even her.
I wrote her a note with a series of instructions that would prevent her from figuring out my identity, and she responded just as I hoped she would. She was a good girl, doing whatever was commanded of her, and she was greedy for me, whimpering and begging for more until she came undone on my cock. I was greedy too, using her body with the force of a madman until she was close to breaking.
After it was over, the same old clarity and regret set in. I told myself it wouldn’t happen again, but deep down, I knew it would.
At first, I pretended I didn’t see it happening. Then, like glass chipped by a stone, the tiny fracture in my resolve turned into deep cracks that spread until the whole thing was ready to shatter from the slightest touch.
Once again, I was on the verge of losing control.
It all came to a head last night. The twisted temptation started to build in me again when I put Shay up on that cross and watched her melt and gasp under my touch. The urge to take her, to feel every inch of her, was visceral and thick, but I knew I had to stay strong. Remain in control. Use the knife instead. It was all about torturing her, making her feel so needy and desperate that she’d do anything to come… but truth be told, it was equally torturous for me.
When I saw her falling apart on the cross, begging and pleading for me to let her come, all I wanted to do was slide inside her and mercilessly fuck her until she cried. When she finally broke down and spilled those names, I was close to my own breaking point; close to fucking her even if she refused to tell me anything. I was just lucky that she broke when she did.
The effect she had on me was infuriating. I knew I should’ve stayed strong, should’ve continued the torture by leaving her begging and unfulfilled, but I couldn’t. I had to have her. Had to feel her clinging to me and hear her screaming my name as I drove myself into her.
There was no telling what I would’ve done if I hadn’t forced myself to leave her room after I came inside her. Every nerve ending in my body was sparking, demanding I fuck her again and again, but thankfully, I managed to resist the urge for once and get out before I did any more damage to the situation.
Jesus.I scrubbed a hand across my face and groaned. I needed to find a way to stop this shit. Needed to find a way to stop thinking about Shay and putting her tight pussy up on a pedestal. She was the enemy, and I couldn’t trust myself with her. Couldn’t trust anything she said or did, either.
I wasn’t even sure she was honest with me last night when she fed me those names. After all, she was an actress. A professional liar. She could’ve made up the names just to trick me into letting her come, and I fell for it easily because I wanted an excuse to give in to my urges and sink inside her.
I couldn’t let it happen again. She was a spiderweb, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to get myself trapped in it.
My phone buzzed again, jolting me upright. I unlocked it and furrowed my brows as I read the new email from my private investigator.
Apparently, the only Lily Rose Emerson on the planet was a thirty-four-year-old receptionist from Liverpool who’d never stepped foot on American soil. As for Savannah Niall, the only girl with that name was a sixteen-year-old from Arkansas.
My lips flattened into a grimace as I put my phone down. I was right. Shay was a fucking liar. A wily, manipulative little bitch who put on a show for me in order to get what she wanted.
Clearly, my ‘pleasure as torture’ idea was never going to work on her.
It was time to bring the pain.
25
Shay
I staredout of my fourth-floor window, longing to taste the fresh fall air on my tongue. It would require a miracle for that to happen, though. The latch on the edge of the window had been sealed, and the panes were too thick to break with my bare hands. I knew because I’d tried three times already, leaving my hands bruised and swollen.
Sighing, I lowered my gaze to the enormous courtyard below me.
Colorful flags and banners topped the gray stone walls surrounding the area, and freshly-carved pumpkins sat on the end of ornate polearms that had been planted in the ground like tiki torches. Booths laden with artisanal wares—carved toy swords and shields, pottery, crafted leather pieces, souvenirs, and period clothing—lined the left and right sides of the courtyard, manned by smiling Beaumont Castle employees dressed in medieval-style clothing. In the center, a jousting tournament was taking place.
Throughout the rest of the space, grinning children were rushing around, followed by their harried parents. Entertainers dressed as knights, jesters, wenches, and minstrels buzzed around them, allowing the delighted kids to join in with their activities, while others worked as face-painters, food stall operators, and game runners.
