Blast from the Past (Men of Severn #2)

Chapter Eight

Shane Blake

Since Mercy crashed into me after my fight on Thursday night, it has been one hell of a roller-coaster ride. It’s hard to believe it has only been two days since she stumbled back into my life but that’s how it goes. You never know what lies around the next bend. Now, I have the girl I have loved for the better part of eight years on my lap and in my arms, and she is kissing me like our lives depend on it.

Pulling away I stare at her. “I’m confused.”

She laughs and her laughter makes my heart beat faster, knowing that even though I make her angry and crazy, I can also make her happy.

“I don’t care if you have a kid,” she says with a smile. “As long as you’re not cheating on her with me, I really don’t care.”

“I would never…”

“I would hope not.” She cuts me off. Again.

She presses her chest against mine before kissing me once more like she can’t help herself. But I am vividly aware of the fact that she is only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Even after everything we have just discussed it is imprinted in my mind.

The sight of her, sleep-rumpled and wearing so little clothes, had me hard as lead the moment she walked into the kitchen. Now, having her against me like this, I can’t fucking think straight. All the blood in my body has fled my brain and is currently pumping through my cock.

“Mercy…” I pull away and gaze into her eyes. “You need to get dressed.”

“Huh?”

I smile. Her lips are swollen from our kisses, and she seems a little dazed. But I know I need to do this right. I never want her to think I only want her for sex.

“You’re half dressed,” I say, my voice sounding like I have been chewing gravel.

She looks down at what she is wearing before looking back at me. “Does it bother you?” She frowns. “Is this about my scars?”

Someone said or did something to make her feel self-conscious about her body. It’s why she got the ink. I know for a fact that getting a tattoo over scar tissue hurts like a motherfucker and it’s not a small piece she has. It’s also detailed as fuck. It took many hours to get a piece of art that intricate on her skin, and she went through a lot of pain to get it.

“Not at all,” I say, slipping my hand beneath her t-shirt and caressing the area I know the tattoo with the red roses is meant to conceal. “This only means you’re a survivor. A fighter.”

A loud sob leaves her, and I don’t know whether it’s my words or my touch that has set her off again. I can count on my hands the number of times I have seen Mercy cry. And I swear she has cried more in the past twenty-four hours.

“Babe, I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” I say softly.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you crying?” I am confused as fuck.

“I don’t know.” She hiccups, and I laugh. “You just keep saying all the right things and it’s fucking with the girly side of my brain.”

More laughter leaves me, and I hug her close. This is good, this is all I have ever wanted.

Mercy.

Happy.

Lifting her off my lap, I steady her in front of me before trying again. “You still need to get dressed.”

She watches me closely, her gaze scanning over my entire body until it lands on my erection. I don’t try to hide it, I’m not ashamed that she turns me on.

“What if I don’t want to get dressed, Shane?”

“I didn’t come here to get laid,” I argue.

She lifts her t-shirt above her head before dropping it to the floor. “But wouldn’t it be a fun bonus?”

****

Mercy West

Shane stares at my breasts while adjusting his erection and for the first time since my surgery, I feel confident and beautiful. I don’t want to use my hands to hide my body from him, I want him to see it all.

“Come here,” his voice rumbles as he pushes his chair back, making space between himself and the table before spreading his thighs.

I don’t hesitate to do exactly what he says. This is what I want, what I have always wanted—Shane Blake.

His hands on my hips cause me to shiver and he chuckles. He takes in every tattoo I have on display, his hands skimming up and down my body.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he murmurs before laying his lips on my scar. “I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

His lips travel up, drawing a full-body shiver from me before he kisses the underside of my sensitive left breast. He takes his time placing kisses and little love bites all over my breast before taking my nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. A loud moan falls from my lips, my head tossed back in ecstasy.

He releases my flesh with a loud pop before resting his chin on my stomach and staring at me with lust blazing in his gaze.

“Noises like that will have this over sooner than it should be, babe. I’ve been dreaming of this since before I knew what sex was. So, I need you to take a deep breath and let me enjoy you.”

I nod through the haze of lust. I need him to continue what he was doing. My body is begging for him. Getting up from the chair, Shane lifts me in the air before depositing my ass on the table and stepping between my spread thighs. With his hand in the center of my chest, he gently pushes me down to lay flat on the cold hard surface.

“These are sexy as fuck.” He runs his finger along the inside of my lace panties. “I hope you aren’t attached,” he mumbles before a tearing sound fills the air and the scrap of material falls to the floor.

Oh.

My.

God.

Why is that so fucking hot?

Shane runs his hands up and down my thighs, pushing my legs apart wider. I hear the scrape of a chair on the tiles, but I am too lost in the moment to worry about what he could be doing. As long as he doesn’t stop touching me, I couldn’t care less.

He slides a finger between the lips of my pussy, and I squirm.

“You’re soaking,” he states before running his tongue along the same path. “Shit, you taste so good. Just like I knew you would.”

His words wrap around me, and I never want him to stop.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” I can hear the smile in his voice before his tongue returns to my center.

I can’t help the moan that falls from my lips as I hold onto the back of his head. “Shane.”

My pleasure spurs him on, and I feel him smile against my sex. His tongue runs from my asshole to my clit before making sweeping circular motions. As soon as I get used to what he is doing he changes it up. He sucks hard on my clit and thrusts two fingers into my weeping channel, and I let loose a shriek. My orgasm steals over me, robbing me of all thought. Right now, I don’t care if his brother is my neighbor. I can’t control my reactions.

Coming down from the single most explosive orgasm of my life, I find him leaning over me with a smile. But he is still fully dressed.

“Told you I didn’t come here to get laid.” He kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips. “I don’t have a condom.”

I feel vulnerable when I say the words I know could change everything. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t have kids.”