Cruel Dreams (King’s Crossing #3)

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Stella

I wake to my nightgown moved aside and Zane sucking my nipple, his fingers sliding under the lace of my panties. Moaning, I bring up my knees, begging for more. Before you get all up in my face about consent, I wanted this. I fell asleep in the room Quinn and I share, but I woke up to go to the bathroom and drink a glass of water. I went to the Honeymoon Suite to finish out the night hoping he’d take the hint.

He was out cold but he roused long enough to roll over and spoon me, and I fell asleep tucked against his solid chest, his arm snug across my stomach.

My body opened for him while we’ve been staying at the hotel. He doesn’t sleep here every night, but over the past couple of weeks we’ve managed to find quiet moments to talk, make love, and enjoy each other. His teeth nibble at my sensitive skin, and his fingers find what they’re looking for, two slipping inside me easily. I crave the physical connection, and my body accepts his hungrily.

He knows what I like, and he bites. The shot of pain travels from my breast to my core, heightening all of my senses. His thumb grazes my clit, and I gasp, the sudden sensation zapping my nerves in the most delicious way. I’m so wet and aroused, I won’t need long to come.

“Stella,” Zane murmurs and trails kisses over my collarbone, across my neck and jaw, to my lips, his scruff scratching at my skin. He ravages my mouth, our tongues tangling together, and I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him to me. I’m afraid we’ll never be close enough. Never close enough to give me what I need to heal completely.

He slicks his fingers in and out, and I lift my hips in tune to his rhythm, desperately chasing an orgasm. I’m so close, and I whimper. “Don’t stop. More, Zane, more.”

He pounds his fingers into me and presses his thumb to my clit. Pleasure rolls through me and I come, my heels digging into the mattress increasing the pressure of his hand. I shove my tongue into his mouth and lick at him as he draws out my orgasm. He plays until the pleasure becomes almost painful, and I jerk my hips away from his touch. Chuckling, he gently pulls his fingers out of me, and I sink into the bed, sweaty and spent.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says, covering my mouth with his, his hard cock rubbing against my thigh, demanding his turn.

Grasping his erection, I happily return the favor. Pre-cum gathered at the tip, and I slick my fingertips in it, fluttering over the divot. He shudders, and I smother a laugh.

“Put up or shut up,” he growls, grabbing a condom out of the nightstand. Even in the pitch black, he can sheathe himself in seconds. He rips my panties from my legs, tearing the lace and my laughter fades. Moaning in anticipation, he settles between my legs and slides into me.

He shoves his hands under my pillow and pulls me to him. He’s playful, but in a romantic mood, too, and he moves slowly, long even strokes while he devours my mouth and his fingers twist in my hair.

“I love you, Stella,” he whispers into my ear.

I’ll never tire of hearing him say it.

“I love you, too,” I murmur, hooking a leg over his ass and pushing him into me deeper, harder. I always want more. I match his thrusts knowing he’s adding to the bruises already covering my body, but I can’t help it. As close as he can get isn’t close enough. It never will be. “More. Give me all of you.”

Rotating his hips, Zane screws his cock into me, his muscles straining, hands flanking my head. He groans, and he shudders as he comes. His cock pulses inside me, and for several moments he pants, catching his breath. He lowers himself onto me and kisses my temple. “Christ.”

“Hmmm,” I hum. He’s sweaty, and I lick his neck. He tastes so good...salt, passion, and Zane.

He pulls out and rolls off me. It’s too fast, and I squeak in protest. I wanted to cuddle.

“Just let me clean up.” He gives me a quick peck on my lips. “I’ll only be a second.”

He throws the condom away in the bathroom, and I wipe between my legs using a tissue out of the box on the nightstand. I’m tender, but I love it. The other aches and pains, not so much. The muscle above my heart where the bullet hit the bulletproof tank top is still sore. The bruise is slowly fading, my skin more yellow, pink, and a deep, dark purple than the almost black it was after that horrible night. My road rash is almost gone, and only faint traces of the bruise along my ribs from falling off the subway platform remain.

Zane crawls back into bed and holds me close. I soak it in, pressing my body against his. I’ve gone too long without love, and I burrow into his arms, wiggling, squirming, trying to find a way to be closer because I need it.

He tightens his grip until I can’t breathe.

We’ve made progress in the two weeks we’ve waited for my death to disappear from the news, though we both know it’s not enough. Not enough to build the kind of future he wants—mutual trust, a solid commitment, marriage, and children. We’ve talked a lot about what my time at Black Enterprises was like, how he coped thinking I’d betrayed him, and the lies Ash fed him to ensure his belief. I’ve tried to look past that. I know, deep down, he’s a victim too, and God, I’m trying. He knows I’m trying.

It’s difficult for him, too. He watches me struggle, unsure if I’ll come out the other side still in love. I will always love him, but maybe I’ll always wonder if he’ll always love me.

I don’t ever imply I’d be better off without him. I’m afraid he’d agree and leave me, but it’s difficult to heal, emotionally and mentally. I’m dealing with his guilt when he’s the cause of my trauma.

Zane kisses my shoulder, his lips warm and soft, and his breath evens out in a sated doze. Sometimes he has nightmares, sometimes he doesn’t. Sex calms him down. My presence calms him down.

My forgiveness would free him.

I can’t give it yet.

If that makes me a bitch, so be it. I’m not ready and if I feel that time will never come, I’ll be honest and tell him. We agreed not to decide anything until this is behind us and the future is ours to do with what we like. Only then will I know if I want to spend it with him.

I don’t go back to sleep, and I watch the rising sun brighten the wall. Zane holds me, and his inhales and exhales whisper near my ear.

I know why I’m on edge.

Zane and Nathalie’s engagement party, the party Ashton Black insisted he host in their honor, is tonight. It’s more than just a party, it’s a necessary part of our plan, but it still rubs me the wrong way. It’s difficult to forgive someone when their mistakes stare you in the face—in this case literally.

None of this is Nathalie’s fault. Getting mixed up with the Blacks wasn’t her fault. Her mom was sick and she needed money to pay bills. I understand that. I might even have done it myself.

A huge reason I can’t let it go is because I’m jealous of Zane and Nathalie’s time together and the intimacy they shared for so many years. I’m full of bitterness that I sacrificed my freedom for him and Zarah and he moved on so quickly. Didn’t search for the truth. Lost his faith in me. Did he ever have any? I don’t know. He chose to believe lies and he shared five precious years with another woman. Those years should have been mine, dammit. Sometimes I feel like he stole those five years just as much as Ash did keeping me prisoner. A tear drips down my cheek and I wipe it away hoping he doesn’t see.

“I’m sorry.” Zane’s voice is low and full of pain.

He always knows what I’m thinking, and he always checks his pride and falls to his knees.

I hate him for it, and I hate myself for needing it.

“I’m just a little worried.”

Zane props his head in his hand and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Stubble covers his jaw, his hair is mussed, and he needs a trim. He’s sexy, but he looks like he cares about other things. Like being with me.

That’s why I crawled into his bed last night. I miss him so much when he’s gone.

He goes to work and he and Nathalie stay at his penthouse every other evening. He needs to maintain a normal schedule, and that doesn’t include sleeping at a hotel that’s supposed to be closed to the public to have renovations done.

Brushing his thumb over my lips, he says, “I know you are, but you don’t have to be. It’s only a party. Maybe buying Nathalie from Ash wasn’t a good idea, but we’ve been together for years and it was a natural progression. Some of her clients treated her like Zarah’s jobs, and I couldn’t let her live like that anymore.”

“Okay.”

Trying to pretend like the last five years didn’t happen would be futile and a waste of time. I wasn’t the only one hurting, and this isn’t just about me because I’m angry.

Zane curls his body around me. “How are you feeling?”

“Better every day.” Physically, at least. Like Zarah, I might be emotionally fucked up for years, if not the rest of my life.

“Good.”

The room is brightening, and his features are becoming clearer in the hazy light. Something slips over his face, and my heart sputters.

“What?” I ask, my tongue thick in my mouth. We don’t need any more trouble. We don’t need any more obstacles.

“The morning in your apartment...” He fades off, and a reddish stain creeps over his cheeks. He’s embarrassed, but I don’t know why.

“What morning? What are you talking about?” I prop up onto an elbow and stare at him, nerves prickling my skin. He looks over my shoulder, unable to meet my gaze.

“That morning, the first time we saw each other when you came back to the city. Well, I thought it was when you’d come back.”

He’s stumbling, and at any other time I would think it endearing. The boy I had fallen for surfacing in the man I know now.

“I can’t say we made love because that’s not what it was. I was punishing you, and you let me have you.”

Oh. He’s talking about the morning we had sex. When I tried to give him the flash drive. I try not to think about that day very often because he hurt me. Physically, but emotionally, too. I missed him so much, loved him so much, and he turned our first encounter after a five year separation into something painful and sordid.

I let him have me because I was lonely and I needed him, but he only hurt me to pay me back for leaving.

“Okay?” I’m not sure why he’s bringing this up. It was weeks ago. So many things have happened since then.

“I didn’t wear a condom, Stella. Have you gotten your period?”

Goosebumps cover my skin. There’s been so much going on, I lost track of my period.

I close my eyes, trying to remember. The last time I had it, I was at Black Enterprises, but that’s been weeks ago now. Ash forces all his strippers and escort service girls to go on birth control, but I didn’t have a reason to be on it. I never had a checkup in all the years he kept me.

Zane shifts, waiting for my answer, and suddenly I’m really pissed off. He’s the one who couldn’t wait to fuck me. He’s the one who used sex as a weapon instead of showing me he loved me.

I blow out a sigh. I wanted his hands on me, it didn’t matter what kind of emotions were in his touch. At Black Enterprises, I was always on the precipice of dying from loneliness.

Zane hurt me, but I welcomed it. I used him, too. I needed to feel...anything. Anything at all.

“No, I haven’t. You don’t want babies.”

He told me that when I tried to encourage him to make love to me without a condom. The things he said were sweet, but now I realize the truth behind them.

Zane snuggles me and gently touches his mouth to mine. He leans away and says, “Ash made sure I saw that picture of Cardello and the woman who was supposed to be you. She was pregnant, and he had his hand on her belly.”

I know the one he means. We don’t know who the woman is—we didn’t fight the lies and her real identity never came out. I don’t know if she and Sergio are a couple in real life. Her tanned skin glowed, and wearing a little bikini, her bump was prominent. I don’t know much about pregnancy but I had a foster mom who had a baby, and the woman posing as me looked to be about six months along.

“I have never been so enraged, so hurt. The idea you were giving another man a child, a family. I’m thirty-one years old, running a billion-dollar empire, and my whole world exploded thinking of you having a baby with someone else.”

The reverence in his voice shocks me. I’ve never heard him sound so passionate.

“I hated you so much. I wanted that baby to be mine.”

I touch his arm. “Zane.”

“I love you, Stella. You having my baby is everything I want. A family. Vows and promises. A future with you by my side. But not now. The things we need to do...I’m going to go out of my mind worrying about you. I know I can’t keep my eyes on you all the time, and I have to trust you’ll watch out for yourself. I have to trust you won’t take any unnecessary risks. If you’re pregnant, I don’t want you involved. Simple as that. It’s already hard enough. I can’t lose—” His voice breaks and he looks away.

Maybe it’s selfish that I’m happy he cares so much about me, but he doesn’t want me pregnant now. I can’t say I blame him any. We aren’t exactly stable.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember exactly when my last period was, and I don’t know where in my cycle I was when we were at the apartment—I wasn’t thinking about that. I could get it any day, or I could be off because of all the stress. I’ll tell you the minute I get it.”

He grips my chin between his finger and thumb and forces me to meet his eyes. “And if you don’t? Will you promise to stay safe? For me? For our family?”

Once we start pushing at the Blacks, we’ll have to expect them to fight back, but there’s no way in hell I’m standing on the sidelines. I want to help bring Ash and his father to justice. Not just because they stole five years from me, but for Zane’s parents. For Zarah. For women like Nathalie.

I want to be part of it. I want to be in the middle of it.

When Ash realizes he didn’t break me, I want to be staring unflinchingly into his black eyes.

I have a few weeks before Zane will suspect anything. I’ll be honest until I can’t be. If I’m pregnant, I’ll hide it for as long as I can.

I nod.

He believes me.