Page 5 of Merciless Proposal

“I think so,” she hums.

I almost demand she call me Daddy again. I love the way she purrs it, the way it fits our dynamic so well. I’m overwhelmed with pride when I realize I’ve reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, needy little thing.

My touch is insistent. I don’t let up, not even for a moment. The noises that escape her mouth grow even more urgent. It won’t take much longer to bring her right over the edge. With a practiced flick of my fingers, Natalia cries out. Her thighs tighten around my hand. I smirk, knowing that I’ve done it, knowing that I’m giving her the kind of pleasure that no one else has ever given her.

Her entire body tenses and I feel her muscles contracting as I rub her clit. I keep up a steady pace, working her through it with ease. Her hands twist in the shirt I’m wearing, wrinkling the fabric as she keeps herself steady.

“That’s it,” I tell her through gritted teeth, ignoring how painfully hard I am at the sight of her falling apart beneath me. She gasps as her mouth drops open, her orgasm rocking through her body until her toes are curled. “That’s a good girl.”

After a few seconds, her orgasm subsides, and her head falls back on the pillow. Her breaths are heavy, and I can tell she’s something far away in her bliss.

“How do you feel, princess?”

“Amazing,” she sighs.

“‘Kay,” Natalia hums, rolling over and hugging a pillow to her chest.

I cast one last look on my beautiful girl. She looks so peaceful, so relaxed. I’m thankful that I found her, that I was able to give her comfort after what I know had to be absolute hell.

Once I’ve had my fill, I walk confidently to my bathroom. As soon as I get the door closed and locked, I shove down my sweatpants and take my aching cock into my hand. It doesn’t take me long to stroke myself to climax. The images of my girl coming apart on my fingers are more than enough to get me there.

Chapter Four

NATALIA

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but it’s still dark outside. I blink into the darkness, my heart thudding in my chest as my surroundings slowly come into focus. The unfamiliar room feels both foreign and safe, the soft sheets and steady hum of the city outside grounding me. What’s the last thing I remember? I roll onto my back and think for a moment, shooing away the haze of sleep until finally, I remember calling in the tip, running from the building, and suddenly staring at a tall, handsome, and dangerous man who saved me from an unknown future.

Jace.

That’s where I am. I’m at Jace’s apartment where he…made me feel so, so good. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can almost feel the ghost of his hand between my legs. My very first orgasm. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt, but most importantly, it was with someone who I trust and who obviously cares for me.

I sit up quickly and look to the right, but the large space beside me is empty of him. Frowning, I glance around the darkened room, hoping to find a sign of him. He’s not here, but there is a light on beneath the bedroom door. Slowly, I pull myself out of bed and walk to the door. My hand rests on the nob, and just before I turn it, his voice drifts through the wood.

It’s hard to make out exactly what he’s saying, so I press my ear to the door until I can hear that his voice is low and concerned.

“Their daughter?” Jace snaps.

My blood runs cold. Does he know who I am? Do his men know? I might be in big trouble here.

I’m frozen in place, my mind racing as I start to calculate an escape plan. The window is out of the question. I don’t know how many stories up we are, but it’s high—practically in the clouds. Even if the window opens, there’s no way I’m risking a balcony leap.

If Jace knows who I really am, my odds of getting out of here drop to zero. Maybe I could overpower him—Dad didn’t skimp on self-defense lessons—but that’s a gamble. I’d have to guess the way out on the first try, and even then, he’d catch up easily. His training is leagues beyond mine, and unlike me, Jace has real-world experience.

My mind scrambles for options but comes up empty. If I beg, he might go easy on me. What we did last night, what we shared, that has to mean something. Maybe if I’m honest…if I tell him I don’t want to go back to my family, that I want to stay here with him, maybe he’ll fight for me.

“Well, do you have a description?” Jace asks. “We might have accidentally sent her with the other girls to the police station.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. It sounds like they don’t know I’m here. That means I won’t have to plan my escape. I might get the opportunity to explain myself and hope for the best.

“The president’s daughter running away?” he laughs. It’s cold and calculated, lined with his obvious disbelief. “As if. Who would put themselves in that kind of danger?”

I want to tell him exactly why I left. It’s not such a far-fetched idea, after all. If you disagree with someone’s ideology, it’s easy to want to leave.

The first seeds of doubt were planted when I was just a child. My dad never cared about sparing women or children. I’ll never forget the day I walked in on a conversation between him and his associates. They were laughing, casually calling the child they killed “collateral damage.” That was the moment I began to see him differently.

Now, as I think about the safety I’ve felt in the last few hours with Jace, the contrast is stark. Even before I understood the depths of my father’s cruelty, I never truly felt safe with him. There was always an edge of danger, a lingering sense that everything we did came with strings attached.

The only reason I was ever protected was for his image. If it came down to it, he wouldn’t risk his life for me—he wouldn’t even flinch. I’ve always known that if I got hurt, he’d just use it as an excuse to unleash hell on his enemies, a justification for more destruction.

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