18. Sam #2
Dragging in a lungful of air, I taste her lavender spray on my tongue and know exactly where we are—in my favorite dream and my worst nightmare.
“Mercy.” I grab her hip to keep her from grinding against me.
She’s so close to sliding right in, her pussy soaking wet and ready.
So fucking ready. “Please be sure.” I bury my face in her hair and pray that she is.
“I won’t—I can’t go back after this.” Kissing her neck, I borrow time, shaking like a leaf and just as fragile.
My muscles scream at me to give in, to let loose and plunge my entire being into this woman.
But with Mercy, nothing is ever simple. It’s not just my body that I’m giving her—it’s my heart, too.
I need her to understand that.
Her voice is softer than her skin. “Don’t you love me?”
Holding my breath, I push up onto my elbows and stare into her eyes. “I do.” But something isn’t right. The tears from earlier are back, freely falling down the sides of her cheeks.
“Then you can have it.” She hastily wipes away her tears. “If you love me, Sam, you can have it. I won’t mind. I want you to have it.”
I press our foreheads together and cup her cheek, unable to look away from the agony painted on her face. “Then why are you crying?”
“I don’t—I don’t know.” A sob catches in her chest, and she slams her eyes shut. “Just do it, okay? Please.” Grabbing my shoulders, she tries to force me inside of her, using all of her body weight to drag me down. “Please, Sam.”
Fuck.
I want her more than anything, but not like this.
“I can’t, baby,” I whisper, breaking my own heart as I kiss the tip of her nose, the swell of her cheek, her trembling bottom lip.
“Fuck, I want to.” Indulging the fantasy, I slide an inch inside of her molten core, gritting my teeth against the needy sound she makes as she clings to me, trying to make it a reality.
I pull out and collapse on top of her, pinning her body to the mattress so that she can’t move.
“But I can’t risk you hating me for it.”
When I make love to Mercy, I want her to love me back.
“Kane would do it!” Her voice cracks like a whip, striking where it hurts. “He wouldn’t be such a fucking pussy about it!” She smacks her fists against my back, taking out her frustration on me. “He wants me more than you do!”
Pain lances through my heart. “That’s not true.
” Grabbing her face, I kiss her hard, feeding into her frustration.
Being with her shouldn’t feel this way. It shouldn’t hurt.
“You know that’s not true,” I growl, breaking the kiss to glare at her.
Rosy cheeks. Swollen lips. Teary eyes. None of this is right.
I roll off of her and stand, my frustration skyrocketing.
This is all Reaper’s fault. He’s confusing her.
Twisting things in her head. I run my fingers through my hair and pull the ends, knowing that all of my problems go back to that fucking guy.
I need to get rid of him. Grabbing my clothes, I get dressed as quickly as possible.
“Where are you going?”
Flinching, I keep my gaze on the floor. “I have to take care of something.”
“But you won’t take care of me?” The accusation in her voice stings.
“Mercy—” I freeze the minute I turn around, unable to tear my gaze off of her body.
The flush trailing down her neck makes me salivate, but it’s her hands that do me in.
She covers her pussy with her fingers, slowly dipping them inside.
Precum weeps from the tip of my cock, and I have to force myself to look away.
In the next instant, Mercy is standing directly in front of me. “Why can’t you look?” Shoving me, she bares her teeth, clearly hurting and putting up a front. She’s like a wounded animal trying to fight against whatever is causing her pain.
I guess she thinks that’s me.
“Am I so unattractive that you’ll only fuck me if you can’t see me?”
My restraint snaps into pieces. “Shut the fuck up.” Spinning us around, I slam her against the wall.
I know that she’s hurting. I know that she’s lashing out.
I know that it isn’t her fault. But damnit , does it piss me off.
“Stop questioning my intentions!” Pinning her hand beside her head, I force her fist open so that I can interlock our fingers.
“I will make love to you, Mercy Morningstar, when you’re ready to accept that I want more from you than sex. ”
I’ve told her that I love her, but I don’t think she understands what that means. I’m not saying it to get in her pants. I’m saying it because I mean it.
“What I won’t do is fuck you because you think that’s all anyone wants from you.
I want so much more than your body, Mercy.
” I press my palm flat against her chest and feel her hammering heartbeat.
“But if you can’t give me anything else right now—” I slip my hand between her thighs and bury my fingers inside her pussy, hating how the beauty of the moment is ruined by that fucking drawing of her and Zane.
I grit my teeth as I grind her clit against my palm, desperately hoping to replace that stupid fucking image with this one. “—I’ll manage.”
Mercy cries out with pleasure, greedily rocking her hips as I finger her.
Tearing at my shoulders, dragging her nails against my scalp—it’s almost everything I wanted, but without the satisfaction of knowing that I’m the one who turned her into a rabid animal.
She could be thinking of Zane right now, pretending that he’s the one making her come.
Or Reaper, even—she keeps bringing him up. There has to be a reason.
Dropping to my knees, I hook her calf over my shoulder and bury my face in her pussy, groaning as she gushes, filling my mouth with her desire.
I lick every inch of her and slip my fingers past her entrance to go even deeper.
She bucks, gasping, and I don’t let up, quickly finding the rough patch of flesh and curling my fingers, driving her wild.
She claws at my hair and grinds on my face.
“ Ah, ah, ah! ”
Music to my goddamn ears.
I’m drowning in her desire, and it’s exactly where I want to be.
Well, close enough.
My cock leaks like I’m getting paid by the ounce. I groan as I grab my shaft and pull, needing to fight against the fire burning in my chest. She can’t give me everything yet, and I don’t want only half of her.
I want it all.
She comes with a feral scream, and I follow her, painting the floor, coating my fist, hating that it’s wasted but loving how I grab her ass and rub it into her skin, marking her as mine.
Lifting her up, I carry her boneless body back to the bed and lay her down, just like before.
Only this time, I steal a greedy kiss while her taste is on my tongue, ensuring that the memory sticks.
The next time she draws someone kissing her, it’s going to be me.
When I pull back, she licks her lips, her eyes half-lidded and dazed. “Get some sleep,” I murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She mumbles sleepily, already closing her eyes. “G’night.”
I wait until her breathing has slowed to leave.
Rather than leave her door unlocked, I climb over her desk and out the window, grunting as my feet slam onto the front porch.
The wood creaks, threatening to give way, and I make a mental note to offer to pay for the repairs again.
Mr. Morningstar has refused at least three times, but maybe if he knows that I’m dating his daughter, he’ll finally relent.
As I stand up, a slow clap echoes around me.
Reaper steps out from the shadows, his grin feral.
“Samson Wright, good for something after all. I told you to keep her warm for me, but I didn’t expect you to deliver so…
exceptionally. ” A shiver rolls down his spine as he looks up at Mercy’s bedroom window.
“I could have done without the cum on her ass, but hey, I get it.” He steps up and claps my shoulder.
“I’ll be sure to fill her up extra for you. ”
Grabbing his arm, I throw him off of me. “Stay the fuck away from her, Reaper.”
It’s like he enjoys the challenge. He licks a stripe across his top teeth, his voice rumbling like a wolf’s when he speaks. “Why? Because you love her?”
How the hell did he hear that?
“I don’t usually fuck other people’s girlfriends, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”
Fury roars in ears, making it hard to see straight. I clutch the handrail and block the path to Mercy’s front door. “Over my dead body.”
“See,” Reaper exclaims, snapping his fingers. “That’s the beauty of it. I can kill you and fuck your girl. Hell, I can even make you watch as I pop that pretty fucking cherry.” He groans, palming the dick imprint on his jeans. He’s fucking massive, hung like a beast.
It’ll tear Mercy to shreds.
“I bet she’ll bleed all over my cock.”
I grab the gun hidden in the waistband of my pants and aim it at him. “Back the fuck up.” Gritting my teeth, I tell myself to do it. Shoot. Get rid of the fucker before he hurts Mercy.
Reaper doesn’t back up—he marches forward, slotting the barrel against his neck.
He swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple pushing against the metal.
“I don’t think you have the balls to kill someone, Sam.
” Shaking his head, he chuckles. “Or else you would have buried a bullet in my gut a long time ago.”
The front door creaks behind me, and all of a sudden, something much larger than a pistol presses against my spine.
“Get out of here, boys.” The shotgun cocks loudly, making me sweat.
“Mr. Morningstar?—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Sam,” Mercy’s father replies calmly, “unless you can explain why my daughter is crying her eyes out.”
What? She was sleeping a moment ago?—
I try to turn my head, but he digs the barrel harder into my back.
“Go on, both of you. Before I shoot you for trespassing on private property.”
Reluctantly, I follow Reaper off the front porch. Both of us glance back up at Mercy’s window, her sobbing muffled but audible.
Shit. Is it my fault? Did I hurt her?
All of a sudden, Reaper hooks his arm across my shoulders and drags me up the gravel driveway.
His motorcycle sits beside my truck, the two of them as polar opposite as their owners.
“I like you, Samson,” he says cheerily, taking the gun from my hand while I’m distracted.
He unloads the chamber, releases the magazine, and hands it back to me. “I was serious about sharing her.”
Every muscle in my body screeches to a halt. I throw him off of me, annoyed when he laughs. “Why the hell do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true.” He kicks the bullet magazine into the bushes before turning back to me.
“You saw how she responded at dinner. I think she’d enjoy it.
I think you would.” Shaking his head, he keeps grinning like he’s some kind of mastermind.
“Live a little. You can have sex without it meaning anything.”
“You indulge too much,” I counter, frowning. “If it doesn’t mean anything, what’s the point?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. “Do I really need to answer that?”
“Actually, yeah.” I clench my fists, feeling my resentment towards him rise. “You fuck people like you’re aiming for a world record. Your body count is astronomical.” I can’t even begin to fathom how many people he’s slept with. “How can you still enjoy it?”
For a long moment, Reaper doesn’t answer. He stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Because it’s not about the sex.”
I didn’t expect him to answer honestly, so I’m at a loss for words.
Sighing, Reaper pinches his lips together and stares up at the moon. “It’s not about the sex, Sam. It’s about the experience.” Something in his gaze softens, and I nearly have a stroke.
Is he opening up?
To me ?
“I’ve slept with hundreds of people?—”
This isn’t making me feel any better about letting him touch Mercy.
“But that gives me hundreds of new experiences.” His gaze cuts across the sky to find mine. “How many have you had, Sam?”
I stare dumbly as the man I hate more than anyone smiles at me.
Rather than wait for my answer—because it’s a rhetorical question—he puts on his helmet and kickstarts his bike, driving off before I have a chance to do anything about it.
I spend ten minutes searching for the gun magazine and another ten minutes waiting for Mercy to stop crying.
When she finally settles down, I slump against the bed of my truck and slam my fist into the tailgate.
The throbbing pain doesn’t make me feel any better.
At this point, I don’t know what will.