Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(24)

Gripping my hips, he flips me onto my stomach and pulls down my panties in one quick move.

“Hold on.”

A moan that resembles a desperate cry trembles my lips in a frantic plea for him to go faster. Looking over my shoulder, I push my ass out even more and watch as he pulls himself from his boxers, stroking himself as his eyes focus on my exposed wetness. My * clenches, everything below my belly button throbbing with longing to have him desperately thrust into me hard and fast.

He pushes the head of his dick in between my wet lips, spreading my arousal around.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, before thrusting forward so hard, I fall from my position. He fills me to the point I can’t take anymore, his girth stretching me to where it’s borderline painful. The fullness of his cock buried so deep inside me makes my eyes roll in the back of my head. I could live like this, him inside of me, not moving. The tranquility it brings is a drug my body relies on to survive. Some women take pills, or talk to a therapist about their problems, I just need Zeek to f*ck my brains out.

Slowly he pulls out till the head of his length reaches my lips, then he drives into me hard, causing me to groan loudly. My fingers claw into the wet carpet, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He drives into me again and again. Skin slapping skin, my knees slipping along the whiskey-soaked carpet as if I were on a goddamn slip and slide.

“God, yes!” I cry, meeting his thrusts eagerly. My lungs scream as I begin to lose my breath, my mouth going dry as I practically pant for more.

His hands slide around my waist and up my stomach cupping my breast, pulling me from the floor. My back against his chest now.

“Say, you believe me about everything.”

“I—I believe you!” I cry, my head flinging back onto his shoulder. His hand slides up my collarbone gently grabbing me by the throat.

“Say you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear, his fingers digging into the soft skin of my throat.

“Yours.” With my release in sight, I’d say anything right now.

“Know that you will forever be mine, Jillian. I’ve never loved anyone before, but what I feel for you, I ain’t just going to let you walk away, baby.” Teeth bite down on my shoulder, and a powerful warmth explodes into my lower half so hard, I instantly go languid in his arms. Warmth knifes through my body so wildly I go deaf and stars shoot behind my eyes. Zeek grabs at my limp body, driving into me harder and harder. Fucking me like a rag doll, until he roars with his release so loud my hearing snaps back to normal. We both slump limply to the floor, our bodies tangled in a mess of sex, whiskey, and sweat.

My knees sting from rug burn and my body is sticky with alcohol and cum. But I’m the most at peace that I’ve been in days.

“Still hate me?”

I frown, because if it’s one thing I’ve learned…I can never hate Zeek. Not even if he killed me himself. I’d go to the grave loving this man.

“Why didn’t you tell me about who my father was when we left Vegas?”

He sighs, his fingers trailing up and down my arm blissfully. Turning my head, I look into his dark eyes, ones that are capable of love one second and putting a rifle to someone’s head the next.

“You had enough falling apart at your feet, I didn’t think letting you believe your father was the hero you thought he was a little bit longer was such a bad thing. Even if it meant you hated me, it was worth it.”

I lace my fingers with his, wanting to be touching him. This right here is why I love him. He may do the most terrible things, things that are unimaginable to any normal person but it’s the things in between that hooked me so quickly.

“Looks like we do have something in common,” I mutter. He looks at me with a puzzled look. “We both have shitty parents.”

“It’s fitting. Our dads got into each other’s pockets when we were kids, they started it all.”

“What do you mean?”

Running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip his forehead creases. “You sure you want to hear all of this?”

I nod. As much as this is going to hurt, hearing how bad of a man my father—Lieutenant Oaks—really was I need to hear it. “I need to know what’s real and what isn’t if I have any hope in piecing things back together.”

Scratching his head, he takes a deep breath.

“Here is what I know. Every man has his price, my dad was an expert at finding that weakness. In fact, it’s one of the most useful tools he taught me. Your father’s was power; his job. My dad bait and switched clubs all around the Las Vegas area, turning the leaders of gangs and clubs into the hands of your father. Your dad went up the ranks with how many criminals he was taking off the street, some had been wanted for ages.”

My head throbs with the information, things clicking into place that didn’t before. “I remember him telling me he got Lieutenant so quickly because he followed the rules and that literally brought the criminals to his front door.” I shake my head angrily. “He was a liar.”

Zeek chuckles, “In a way, he was kind of right.”

“You said he was a murderer?” The words come out painfully.

“You sure you want to know?” He runs a hand along my spine. I nod, biting my lip to keep from bawling.

“A clean deputy caught your dad and Frank dealing one night, and your dad buried him.”