All He’ll Ever Be (Merciless World Series Book 1)

I checked the bedroom first. The depraved side of me hoped she would be waiting for me, already warming my bed.

But it was empty.

The den was next, after assuming I’d see her drawing on the floor of the hearth like she enjoys doing.

But the fire wasn’t burning, and the room was silent.

Then the kitchen. The empty fucking kitchen. My teeth grit as I pull up the security monitor and cycle through the cameras.

My pulse races and I can hardly see straight as the monitor flickers from one to the next, each proving to be useless in showing me where my Aria is.

I told her to wait for me in the kitchen, den, or bedroom. Those were the only rooms she was permitted to be in, yet my obedient Aria isn’t in a single one of them.

My heart pounds and my temperature rises.

She didn’t get away.

I only left for three hours. Just enough time to drive to the club for the meet and then back. Daniel was watching her. I have to remind myself that she’s still here somewhere as the cameras loop back around to the beginning.

“Fuck!” My anger gets the best of me, but as I spit out the word and feel the tension in my shoulders and chest rise, I both see and hear her at the same time.

The wine cellar in the corner of the kitchen passed in a blur on the screen the first time, but there she is, in the corner, cross-legged with a bottle in her lap. And the sweet sound of her humming travels through the kitchen.

I walk quietly to the cracked door, only a sliver of light shining into the kitchen.

Listening to the cadence of her soft voice, her humming rises and a word slips out, but I don’t recognize the song. The melody is somber, somewhat melancholy.

I inch closer, careful to be quiet and slip the door open as a bottle clinks against the tile floor, notably empty judging from the hollow sound.

Aria’s dark locks fall back away from her face and chest as she lays her head back against the wall, her nose pointed toward the ceiling as she hums a little louder.

It’s addictive, listening to those sweet sounds. Her voice has always captivated me and I suppose it always will. What saves you from the darkness is something extraordinary.

“This isn’t the kitchen,” I say and break up her melody. The green and amber colors swirl into a deadly concoction of fear in her gaze as she takes in my words. I watch her throat as she swallows; I can practically hear her tense breathing as she seats herself in a kneeling position to tell me, “I didn’t know.”

She still doesn’t look at me when she speaks. Sometimes in the evenings, she’ll peek at me. But she doesn’t like to look me in the eye.

Her cotton blouse is loose and baggy, offering me a glance down her shirt, although her hair lays in the way as it hangs in front of her. Even still, I catch a glimpse of her breasts and the pale pink of her nipples. My dick hardens, and I stifle a groan.

“I thought this was a part of the kitchen,” she says and I hear the drunkenness on her words. Her thick lashes flutter as I stay standing in the doorway to the wine cellar, silently.

I wait for her to peek up at me, and when she does I hold her captive with my stare. It’s never made sense to me before why the expression of ‘doe eyes’ exists. But right here, right now, I understand. It’s a glance you can’t break. One that pauses time and holds you still. That’s what she does to me in this moment with that gorgeous gaze.

“I swear I didn’t realize,” she breathes the words and licks her wine-stained lips.

“From one cell to another,” I tell her and my little songbird bites down on her bottom lip to stifle a smile. “You find that funny?” I ask her as my own lips threaten to tip up.

“I would prefer this one,” she tells me as a flirtatious blush creeps into her cheeks. “If you saw fit to put me in a cell again, the wine cellar would be a bit more my style.”

A genuine grin pulls at my lips and I find myself walking toward her and crouching in front of her small, delicate frame. Although she seems sweet, engaging even, the nervousness is still present.

I almost ask her what’s gotten her into such a pleasant mood, but the empty bottle of wine to her side and the mostly empty glass sitting next to it answer my question. Her pupils are dark and large, but the beauty and desire behind them are enticing.

“You’ve enjoyed yourself while I’ve been gone?” I ask her while cupping her cheek, but instead of leaning into me, she pulls away and moves to sit on her ass. She pulls her legs to her chest.

She shakes her head once, and the happiness leaves instantly, chilling the room and my blood.

“I have something I should tell you,” she speaks to her knees with her head buried in them, “but Daniel said he wouldn’t.” Some of her words are slurred. And even with the cuteness of her tipsy demeanor, knowing Daniel was housing a secret with her steals any sense of humor from me. “But I should.”

“Yes,” I tell her as I sit on the floor in front of her, “you should.” A vise grips my heart as I creep closer to her. Secrets can’t be tolerated. Secrets destroy all they touch. And Daniel would keep a secret from me?

She scratches behind her ear and glances at the door before looking back at me. Her lips part, but then she simply licks them, still trying to find her words. I can hear the steady beat of her heart in rhythm with mine.

“Tell me, songbird. It will be much worse for you if you don’t.” A crease of sadness mars her forehead and her eyes darken with worry, but the threat was needed. And with it comes her confession.

“I cut him,” she says quickly and then clears her throat. “Daniel. I held up the knife and threatened him to let me go but I didn’t mean to cut him, I swear.”

“You want to leave me?” I ask contemptuously. The anger has come so easily tonight, my emotions getting the best of me. And it’s because of her. It’s all because of Aria.

“No, I just,” she swallows thickly and pushes the hair from her face. “I don’t know why, but when you left me… it’s different when you aren’t with me.” She struggles with her words and I wait a moment in silence for her to go on.

“I was angry. I wanted to leave to tell my father.” She doesn’t see how my body tenses and rage creeps into my expression at her confession. She will never leave me. Never. And her father can burn in hell for all I care.

Gritting my teeth, I let her continue.

“He came to talk to me, and I had a knife. I was drunk and it was stupid. Or maybe just tipsy? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just a mess and I don’t know what’s right or what I should do and I…” She trails off, her breathing and words chaotic at best.

Has Daniel really gone so soft that he would let her threaten him? The sense of disappointment in both of them is mixed, but so much stronger with Aria. She wanted to leave. I have to resist every urge to throw her back into the cell and keep her there where she doesn’t have an ounce of escape.

It’s only the genuine sadness in her eyes that dulls the anger and brings out the curiosity I felt when I first watched her from the monitors.

It takes a moment of heavy breathing and silence between us for me to realize that it’s my fault. She wasn’t ready to be left in someone else’s hands. I should have known better. But things will change quickly. I nod at the thought, although my gaze stays on Aria. Soon.

“He let you cut him with a knife?” I ask her, wondering how reckless Daniel must’ve been.

It’s because she doesn’t fear him. Fear changes everything.

“Only a little,” she answers in a meek voice while lifting those gorgeous eyes up to mine and I find it humorous. With a gentle smile tracing my lips, I clarify, “You cut him… but only a little?”

She dares to let the peek of a smile show, but it’s quickly gone. “I feel awful for doing it.”

“You would have killed my brother?” I ask absently, making a mental note to watch the tapes of her while I was gone.

“No, but I know you’d kill mine.” Her words are a well of sadness, but also of acceptance.

“You have no brother,” I tell her as if her statement is irrelevant, but she’s right. There are no limits to what I’ve done and what I’m about to do. There is mercy for her, but not for anyone else.

“You really tried to leave me?” A spike punctures through my chest as I voice it out loud. Earlier, I was more concerned that she shared a secret with Daniel. But the fact remains that she tried to run away. That she wanted to leave me and was willing to kill to do it.

“It was an awful attempt,” she tells me as if it makes it better. And a part of me softens at her response. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about it all. I think I’m going crazy,” her words come out breathily as she drops her head back to lean against the wall. “You’ve made me crazy, Carter. All I am is sorry. It’s all I know how to be anymore.”

With my hand cupping her jaw, I wait for her to look at me with glassy eyes on the verge of tears. “No, my songbird. All you are… is mine.”

“Yes,” she says simply. The acknowledgement giving me a headier rush than I’ve ever felt.

My head nods on its own. “I didn’t think you’d dare to be so bold while I was gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Fear traces her whisper.

“I didn’t want to punish you tonight of all nights,” I tell her, letting my fingers run along the necklace she wears, “I had different plans in mind.” My dick is already hard as I consider what to do with her. “But you tried to leave me and there’s no greater sin than that.”

“Please,” she whimpers as I shush her. “I don’t want to go back.” She doesn’t cower from my touch; she welcomes it as I rest a hand on her bare shoulder, my fingers skimming under the fabric of her shirt. Her mesmerizing hazel eyes stare into mine and beg me for mercy.

“Didn’t I tell you your next offense would lead to the cell?” I remind her with a question and her face crumples. She inches toward me, both of her hands on my thighs as she begs me, “Please.” Her fingers slip across the expensive fabric of my pants as she crawls between my legs, begging me for forgiveness. How I’ve dreamed of her like this. Just like this.

“What would you do to stay with me?” I ask her, wanting to give her the mercy she begs for. I’ve never felt it so strongly before.

Her chest rises and falls heavily. “Anything,” she answers me quickly with desperation.

“Not to stay out of the cell, but to stay in my bed. There is a difference, Aria.”

Her expression falls and she struggles to voice what she’s thinking. Dread seeps into my gut as she fails to answer me, but with that soft voice of hers, it leaves me at once.

Her fingers lace through the necklace as she says, “It’s only when you’re gone that I remember.”

“What do you mean?”

Her voice wavers as she tries to explain. “I don’t want you to leave me. It’s harder for me when you do.”

“I asked you what you would do–”

“And I said anything,” she cuts me off and I can feel my brow pinch together as I look over every inch of her expression to gauge her sincerity. “When you’re with me, I know that I can’t leave, and I don’t want to even try. But when you’re gone… it’s harder. So, I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to leave me.”

She’s a siren. I see it so clearly. It’s her beauty, her broken strength, her denial, and her acceptance. It all calls to me and I will do anything I can to wrap my grip tighter around my songbird while she sings beautiful lullabies.

“Tomorrow night, you’ll come to dinner with me. Kneeling beside me. You will obey. You will sit beside me, proud to be mine.” She nods her head as if she’s accepting a punishment, but this is so much more than that. “You’ll do as I say. Every fucking thing I tell you to do.” I emphasize each word, my finger running up and down her throat. “In front of my family and guests, you will show them how willing you are to obey me.”

“Yes, Carter.”

The way her breathing catches and she swallows the eagerness of accepting the punishment, almost makes me feel guilty for what I say next. Almost. “And tonight, you will sleep in the cell for daring to take advantage of the freedom I’ve given you.”

“Yes, Carter,” she replies although her words crack and her eyes close in agony. Her thick lashes flutter, as she opens her eyes again and she stares deeply into my own, waiting for more. The deep well of loneliness is already settling into her gaze. The look of sadness is something I’ve seen before, but in her eyes, it looks so beautiful.

“You’ll stay there until I feel you’ve learned your lesson.”

She nods and wipes the tear from under her right eye, but dutifully answers, “Yes, Carter.”

My own breathing quickens at the thought of having her to myself before sending her away. “As for right now, you’ll lie across my lap, feeling my hard cock dig into your belly as I punish you, spanking your bare ass and playing with your cunt until I feel you’ve paid enough for the offense of trying to leave me.”

“I will,” she says softly and raises her head to meet my gaze. When her eyes meet mine, she nods in agreement. “I will,” she repeats breathlessly.

The command falls instantly from me. “Tell me that your cunt is mine to play with.”

“My cunt is yours to play with.” And her obedience falls from her lips just the same.

“And your ass?” I prompt.

“It’s yours.” There’s no hesitation in her voice.

“And what about these lips of yours?” I question her in a deep voice ragged with desire as my thumb traces her pouty lips.

“Whatever you’d like to do with them,” she whispers against my touch.

“Lift up your dress and lie here,” I tell her as I sit on the ground of the wine cellar, too eager to have my hands on her to move us to the cell.

Her movements are rushed and reckless as she pulls the cotton dress up and moves to my lap. Her hips are balanced on my right thigh, but I move her ass to the center, forcing her to yelp as she tries to brace herself with her hands.

“Behind your back,” I command her, and it takes a moment. Her hair is everywhere, but I slip it over one shoulder, taking my time to gather it together before grabbing both of her wrists in one of my hands. My fingers easily slip down her panties, the lace fabric almost tearing, but I’m careful with it, letting my touch send goosebumps flowing over every inch of her skin.

She moans slightly, already enjoying her punishment. But I’ll enjoy it more.

With my hand rubbing a circle on her ass cheek, I tell her, “I think you misbehave just so I can punish you.”

She shakes her head, writhing over my lap and making her hair toss slightly. “I don’t want to upset you.” Her words are soft and saddened, but her whimpers speak of nothing but pleasure.

The first smack is light and followed by my grabbing her ass and then smacking the other cheek harder. Her body bucks, but I don’t even get a gasp.

Leaning to my left, I see her eyes shut tightly and her teeth digging into her bottom lip. I let my fingers slip to her cunt, and my cock aches with the pain to be inside of her.

“So tight,” I tell her with reverence in my tone and then rock her, so she can feel my cock.

She only moans and waits for more, but her teeth let up slightly while I take my time with her.

“How many do you think, my Aria?” I ask her and just as her lips part, my hand pulls back and I whip her ass with an open hand that leaves my skin stinging with pain. She cries out, throwing her head back as the pain and pleasure mix and my fingers dip back to her cunt.

“I asked how many?” My voice is calm but deadly. Inside I’m burning hot with a desperate need.

“How many–” she starts to answer me, and I spank her other cheek even harder than the last, forcing tears to her eyes. The sharp, sweet pain travels from my palm up my arm. Gripping her reddened skin, I wait for her to answer but with her eyes watering and her breath taken from her, all she does is part her lips to breathe.

“Answer me, Aria.” Before my words are finished she says as quickly as she can, “However many you’d like.”

A beat passes where she hangs her head to suck in a breath. Another beat passes where I pull my hand away from her skin and watch as she tenses on my lap.

The rapid succession of my hand hitting her tender skin over and over again until my arm is screaming with pain and my hand feels nearly numb passes in a whirlwind.

Her cries get louder as she fights me in my lap, naturally wanting to pull away from me. I nearly lose my grip on her wrists, but I manage to keep her steady and where I need her to be, so I can fulfill her punishment.

Her ass is bright red and my skin humming with a delightful sting by the time I slip my fingers back to her soaking wet cunt. Her body shudders and her yelp of pain turns to a sinful moan.

Over and over I spank her viciously, the underside of her ass, the right cheek, the left one… and then her pussy. My hand’s wet with her arousal as she trembles beneath me.

My fingers dip into her pussy with each smack, giving her only the tiniest bit of penetration. The intensity of the teasing bends her back even farther and her lust-filled gaze stares back at me with her strangled moans of pleasure and pain echoing off the walls of the cellar.

“Good girl.” I praise her and watch as she peers up at me with a wondering look in her eyes and her cheeks tearstained.

“Tonight, I’m going to fuck you into that mattress on the floor like I should have the moment I got my hands on you.”

Her pussy clenches around my fingertips and I reward her by pushing them in deeper and stroking her front wall.

Her back arches and I have to push her shoulder down to keep her right where I want her as I pull my touch away from her in order to leave her wanting. Her small moan of frustration is met with another slap of my hand on her bright red skin. Smack!

Her head flies back and those gorgeous lips of hers part with a deep gasp of longing. It’s no longer pain. She’s too close to the edge of pleasure to feel anything but.

Soothing the pain of the smack with my hand, I rub her right cheek and then pull back for one more strike.

“You would have learned sooner if I’d been rougher with you, wouldn’t you?”

She moans her answer with her eyes closed and her body still, knowing another punishing blow is coming, “Yes, Carter.”

Her answer is absent of sincerity. She’d tell me whatever I wanted to hear right now as she sits on the edge of pleasure and pain.

The days come back to me. Each of them and what I’d planned to do with her is in such stark contrast to what I’ve done. I let the fingers of my right hand trail over her ass, my blunt nails gently scraping along her tender skin and making her squirm on my lap. My left hand grips her throat, finally releasing her wrists, and I pull back, forcing her to look at me.

Her hazel eyes are filled with longing and lust. The haze is a fog in the forest. Unable to see, but so tempted to go forward.

“I should have fucked you so much sooner.”

I remember that first day, how she screamed and cried for me to let her go, back when I hated her and she hated me.

Even with my tight grip on her throat, with my touch sending sparks through her body, she forces her head to shake, not taking her eyes from mine.

“No,” she whispers, and my dick hardens, even more, begging me to punish her for daring to defy me. But then she adds, “This is how it was supposed to be.”

Her breathing is heavy as she closes her eyes, her body bowed on my lap. She’s completely at my mercy and her pouty lips are there for the taking.

All of her. Every piece of her is mine and she knows it.

Mine.