All He’ll Ever Be (Merciless World Series Book 1)
All He’ll Ever Be: Heartless – Chapter 40

It’s too much, I think with my thumbnail in between my teeth as I lie in the soaking tub.

Every day, something changes, and I never know how to react or what it means for us. What it means about me.

How could I not have known someone was watching me?

It must have been Mika.

He was always watching and taunting and teasing, but I thought it was just because he was an asshole on a power trip.

I lower my hand back into the steaming water and try to settle against the edge of the tub. My foot slips up to the faucet, feeling the hot water splash against it.

I can feel my fight leaving. The urge to keep fighting and keep holding on to the girl I was before Carter acquired me is trickling out of me day by day.

He’s going to kill my family. My father. Nikolai. I know Carter will, no matter how much he cares for me.

That’s the most painful part. I think he does care for me, but Carter is ruthless and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. There’s no point in trying.

The hopelessness presses against my shoulders, threatening to push me under and drown away my sorrows.

I wish I was numb to it all. There’s nothing worse than being fully aware yet having no way to change any of it. Without fighting, I feel like a traitor. I’m not just surviving anymore. I’m living, and I don’t know how I can forgive myself for having feelings for the man who’s responsible for so many horrible sins.

Just as I feel tears pricking at my eyes, Carter’s voice startles me. “You’re tense.”

I try to hide my sniffling and feel pathetic that I’m crying at all. Carter ignores it though, offering me that small bit of mercy as he strips down and slowly sinks into the tub, scooting me forward so he can lie in the bath behind me. The water sloshes and rises higher up my body as he sinks into the tub.

His touch is gentle, and I don’t fail to notice that he’s hard already. Just the thought of his cock makes my thighs clench and the dull ache that never leaves sends a wave of want through me.

Maybe that’s why I don’t want to fight him. The only thing that takes away the pain and anger is the one thing he gives me constantly. And that makes me a whore of the worst kind.

The water sways and a shiver runs down my spine as Carter’s large hands press against my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. His fingers drift down my body, over the pearls and diamonds of his necklace that I always wear because he told me to, and the faint touch hardens my nipples and leaves goosebumps in his path to the hot water.

“What are you thinking?” Carter’s deep voice rumbles just as I close my eyes and I open them to stare at the tiled wall and answer bluntly.

“I was thinking I don’t want to kill you anymore because you fuck me so often.” The truth spills out easily, not even questioning my answer to him.

His rough chuckle almost makes me smile as he reaches for the sponge and then dips it into the steaming water.

“I’m so tired,” I say absently as Carter runs the sponge along my shoulder and down my forearm.

“It’s late. Later than you usually stay awake.” I spent hours in the gilded room. That’s what I’m calling it now. That’s all it is. Even if it is beautiful, and I do love that he had it built for me and I’m grateful to have my things back… or replicas of them.

“When do you even sleep?” I ask him. “You’re always awake when I go to sleep, and awake when I wake up.”

“I don’t like to sleep,” he answers me. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”

His even tone and lack of humor make my heart tense. Like it doesn’t want to beat when he talks like that.

Readjusting, I watch the film of bath oils move on the surface of the water and nestle my foot under Carter’s calf.

“You know we could have started this way,” I say weakly, not sure if I should broach the subject, but what do I have to lose?

“What way?”

“With you giving me a room and being less of a monster.” The words slip out easily and Carter’s ministrations pause at the last word. But then he keeps going, continuing to wash me.

“And what would you have done? Destroyed the room and used the shards of glass to kill me?”

He’s not wrong. I could easily see that happening and the reality makes the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

What happened to that fight? To that edge I’m fully aware would have come out had the situation been different.

Nothing has changed. Carter stole me, keeps me prisoner and he’s going to kill my family.

None of that has changed. Yet here I lie against him, loving his touch and replaceing my heart being ripped into two.

“We should talk about something else,” Carter suggests.

The sound of the water falling from my shoulder to the tub is calming. Which is anything but what I should be feeling. The sponge is still hot, and it soothes my tired muscles.

“I could fall asleep in here,” I murmur absently. All I want to do anymore is sleep. I don’t know if I’m depressed, worn out, or if that’s what happens when you lose your fight.

“Can I wash you?” I ask him, wondering if he’d let me.

A moment passes and then he dips the sponge back under; I expect him to give it to me, but that’s not what happens.

“I like washing you,” he whispers against my ear, his warm breath creating a wave of want that flows through me. But my eyes stay open.

Of course, he wouldn’t want me to wash him. He couldn’t even let me suck his dick. A small huff of feigned humor leaves me, and I readjust in the water so that the sound of it splashing will drown out the huff, but he hears it anyway.

“What?” he asks and leans forward to look at my expression, pulling my shoulder against his to keep me from avoiding him.

I meet his dark gaze, the grays and silvers seeming to take over in the bathroom light. “Nothing, it just feels good. It’s nice to feel cared for.”

Without speaking he leans back, kisses the crook of my neck, and moves the sponge to my neck and chest.

“Did you think it would be this way from the beginning?” I ask him. Truly wanting to know what he thought back then, only weeks ago. The reminder of the cell, of me starving and dying of both boredom and fear should make me angry, but all it does is make me pity Carter.

“I didn’t know what to expect from you. I only knew I wanted to have you.”

“To have me,” I echo and settle my head in the crook of his neck. The movement makes my breasts rise above the surface of the water for a moment and the chill is unwelcome until I settle back into the water.

“Your choice of words always seems to amaze me.” My voice is flat, and I wish I could take it back. Silence stretches, and I wonder how long I’ve been in the water.

You can’t wash everything away, but I wish I could.

“How did you think this would end?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions tonight,” he says instead of giving me an answer and places the sponge back on its shelf rather than answering me.

“Oh, and I see I’ve found the question that crosses the line,” I tell him with a smile although a deep pain courses through my heart as I shut my eyes. Each beat feeling harder and taking more of me just to keep going. I can only imagine what Carter wanted to do with me.

“It all changed when I saw how much you wanted me. When I saw how much you craved my touch… how much you needed me.” I open my eyes as Carter’s fingers reach for my chin, the water dripping into the tub as he forces me to look into his eyes.

“I need you to want me still when this is over.” Carter’s words hold an edge of sincerity that’s too much to handle.

I almost ask why, but I’m afraid of the answer I’ll get. I’m afraid what I feel for him isn’t reciprocated. I’ve been foolish before, and I’m almost certain I am now.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I confess to him, wanting to at least hint at the depths of what I feel for him.

“You should be.” He doesn’t try to make his words gentle in the least. “You need to be.”

In his presence, my body turns to fire. He ignites something inside of me like no one else ever has. I doubt anyone else could ever affect me the way he does. Some moments, I hate him and who he is, and what he’s done and will do. But unless those thoughts are on the forefront of my mind, the hate fades and it’s replaced with a lust that clouds my judgment and demands my body bow to his. To show him love like he’s never seen and the power of what it can do to heal him.

What’s more? I crave it more every day. I’m addicted to Carter Cross. And the shame of that fact, although present, has quieted.

But the voice is still there and picks away at me. It’s relentless, but so is Carter.