Chapter Twenty Mercy
Chapter Twenty
Mercy
He kissed me so hard, so well, so thoroughly, held me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
Grant’s tongue swept into my mouth, and the sound he made deep in the back of his throat made my hands tighten around the back of his neck, my fingers digging into the taut muscle just below his hairline.
His hands dove into my hair, gripping the wet strands as he tilted my head to the side and directed the angle of the kiss to something deep and filthy. Every inch of my body was on fire, the damp clothes and the press of his hard body the only things keeping me from bursting into flames.
We stumbled, tongues twisting, lips connected, until my backside hit the edge of the counter.
With one hand, Grant swept a stack of pots aside and they crashed to the side as he boosted me up onto the hard surface.
My legs wrapped around his waist, my hips rocking restlessly as he sucked my tongue into his mouth, dragging a helpless whimper from my lungs.
It was so much better than I’d imagined, and I wanted more.
I wanted his hands everywhere. Wanted the greedy press of his body and the sharp edges of his teeth against my damp skin.
The noise in my head was gone.
All that was left was him.
The way I wanted Grant was terrible. Because there was no end point that I could see through the furious heat. No peak to climb. No dropping-off point where the sensation simply faded away. There was no choice but to let it grow and grow and see what happened when we allowed ourselves to give in.
I shoved at the straps of my dress, and he groaned when he realized I was bare underneath.
He filled his palm with my breast, dragging his thumb over my hardened nipple while he deepened the kiss.
I dug my hands into his thick hair, relishing the wet, warm slide of his tongue over mine as I clenched my legs tight around his ass.
He let out a low, growling sound as his hand dragged up the outside of my thigh, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of my hip where the edge of my underwear covered my skin.
Grant broke away from my mouth and licked along the edge of my jaw, then sucked my earlobe into his mouth. This was the storm.
Whatever was happening outside was nothing. Paltry. Weak.
It was between us that electricity built and thunder rolled and lightning lit the space on fire.
His fingers plucked at my nipple, and I gripped the sides of his face, crashing my mouth into his. It wasn’t sweet or soft or tentative. My body knew what to do, knew what it wanted. What it needed. What he needed too.
We’d been too careful for too long, and this was the way we broke against each other. Immovable forces that only conceded in one place. With one person.
My hands tore at his belt buckle, acting on a frantic, screaming need to be filled, to be wrecked, to learn the way we were together, that wouldn’t be sated by anything but him.
Grant bit down on my bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, his eyes locked on mine while his hand shoved my underwear to the side and found me slick and wet and warm with the blunt tips of his fingers. His nostrils flared when he slid them inside.
“That’s it, my darling. You feel so good.”
“Oh God,” I groaned. “Please.”
Grant turned his wrist, and his fingers pressed in a new angle that had me seeing stars. I dragged my fingernails along his muscled forearm as I keened, and he hissed, then took my mouth in another devastating kiss.
It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
I needed everything.
I dug my hand beneath the waistband of his black boxer briefs and gripped his hard-on. It was big. Thick. Long.
Perfect.
Grant’s hips jerked helplessly as I worked my hand in a firm motion, his eyes going hazy, his mouth hanging slack when I tightened my grip.
He kissed me with a ragged groan, knocking my fingers away as we traded breath, gripping my ass underneath my dress and yanking me forward to the edge of the counter until he was the only thing keeping me steady.
We kissed again. Hard. Harder. Messy.
Perfect.
I wanted to mute all the things we couldn’t figure out with his hips flush with mine, his body working between my legs, and damn the consequences.
If this was how we’d found a way to each other before, then it was no surprise we might do it again.
Our hands collided as we both shoved at his trousers, and I pulled his full length from the confines of his boxers. Grant dropped his head to my shoulder, groaning when I rolled my center against his length, the only thing between us the scrap of ruined silk between my legs.
“You horrible, bloody tease,” he growled, biting down on the tendon along my neck. “Is this what you want?”
“More,” I begged. “I want more.”
We didn’t even remove my underwear—it would’ve taken too fucking long.
Grant wrenched them to the side, pinning them in place with his thumb as he took himself in hand and pressed the thick hardness where I needed him most.
Our gazes locked and held as he slid inside in one long, fluid stroke. Almost too much. Almost too big. But I was ready enough that he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with mine.
His eyes screwed shut as he muttered a filthy curse. My breath hitched, goose bumps lifting the hairs on my arms. The feel of him inside me was in-fucking-credible. No wonder this had rewired his brain. Maybe it would do something good to mine.
“That’s it,” he said on a long, low groan brimming with relief. “That’s my girl. That’s my perfect girl.”
I was full. So full. And we held like that for a breathless moment while my body adjusted and he gripped me close, one arm banded low around my hips, the other hand tight around the back of my neck. A proprietary hold that made my spine tingle.
Grant drew back, almost slipping free of my body—and the space was too much that I made a broken sound of discontent.
His brow pinched and then he snapped his hips forward.
“Yes,” I moaned.
“I missed you,” he said again with another brutal thrust. “God, Mercy. I missed you.”
“Show me.” The way I begged made no sense, but I desperately wanted to see him lose any semblance of control. The pots left behind on the counter rattled with another thrust. “Show me how much.”
The muscles in his arms held me firm while he worked in demanding, endless movements of his hips. The sound of his body slapping against mine was lewd and perfect and filled the space as the rain battered against the glass.
Grant’s mouth was open against my lips, sharp, panting breaths and hard, mindless kisses that tasted faintly of lemon.
Pleasure spun high and tight underneath my skin just from this, and when Grant pressed my thigh against his hip and forced me to lean back, the angle changed in a way that made me gasp.
It was punishing.
Brutal.
Hard enough, for the very first time.
Of course he was the one who could give me this. Grant was not worried about impressing me. He never had been. Not worried about whether I could handle it, because he already knew that I could.
He knew from a past that I couldn’t remember, and it was stunningly clear that he’d learned to read my body like a fucking book. Knew how to touch me. How to kiss me. Oh, he knew how to kiss me.
We’d pushed each other past rationality, and in another universe, this might have been a gentle, sweet moment where my husband made love to me because we couldn’t resist each other any longer.
That wasn’t us, though. Without a single memory, I knew that like I knew my own name.
It was dirty, hard, my nails digging into the wood grain as Grant fucked me with ruthless precision.
It was exactly what we needed, the boiling point we’d been building to.
He mouthed the edge of my jaw, low grunting noises punctuating each snap of his hips.
His thumb moved between my legs and pressed in tight, flat circles with the exact kind of pressure that made my vision go white.
I moaned, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as my body fought the painful wave of bliss. It grew higher and higher until it almost hurt, and then he wedged his other arm underneath my hips and angled my body so that he hit a spot that sent me flying.
The orgasm hit me like a seismic wave, breaking my body open with stunning force, the sizzle of awareness that it was him doing this to me so hot and harsh and relentless that I could only brace myself as the pleasure hit my body with wave after wave.
I was shattered glass. The brutal snap of fireworks as they exploded across the sky.
Helpless to the crack of pressure under my skin. Helpless to the way he made me feel.
To him. I was helpless to him.
When I could finally breathe, I almost burst into tears from the bone-melting relief of it all.
He wasn’t treating me like glass. Like something breakable or fragile.
As the muscles in my body went lax, Grant was still chasing his own release, and I slid my hands up into his hair and gripped the strands, letting my mouth drift over the stubbled line of his jaw.
The sharp, clean scent of his skin was all around me, and I felt so good. I was putty in his capable hands.
He was speaking into my skin as the speed, sharpness, intensity of his thrusts increased.
I couldn’t understand at first, but when I dragged my hands down the line of his neck, his head lifted just enough that the words became clear.
“I love you,” he said like he couldn’t stop himself. Like the words had no choice but to be said, even if they were quiet and rushed and murmured against my heated skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much.”
Then he thrust hard one last time, oblivious to the fact that my body had gone still and my eyes were round with shock. With his eyes screwed shut and his brow furrowed, Grant groaned low and delicious, his body slowing as he milked the last of his orgasm.
My hands were frozen, hovering over his back, and he slowly lifted his head, a faint smile pulling at the edge of his lips.
“What?” I whispered. “You what?”
Grant stilled, his eyes widening in realization of what he’d said out loud.
What we’d done, where we’d done it. Reality landed with a shocking pulse of silence, and he pulled out from between my legs, and I was far too stunned to focus on the mess left behind.
His entire body trembled as he tucked himself back into his trousers and then speared two hands into his hair, staring down at the floor.
“Did you . . . did you say what I think you said?” I asked again, slowly sitting up on the counter.
His shoulders slumped. His arms fell down to his sides. And finally, just when I thought he might not be able to, Grant raised his head and his eyes met mine.
There was no wall.
No armor.
No buried truths or blazing anger or unleashed heat. All I saw was a man with a broken heart and so much regret that I wanted to sink into the floor and press my hands against my eyes until my vision went black.
“I did.” He paused and closed his eyes. “I do,” he corrected, voice unsteady and rough, so sincere that my chest ached.
“I don’t understand.” My breathing was fast. Uneven. And the heat I’d felt long gone. “I don’t . . .”
“I . . . I apologize, Mercy.” He swiped a hand over his mouth, watching helplessly as I stood with weak legs and tried to fix my dress. “That was incredibly untoward.”
“‘Untoward’?” I repeated in a shocked whisper.
My entire body felt cold. My chest empty.
Stomach tight. I was sure my face was pale, because it felt like all the blood had leached down to the floor.
“You told me . . . you told me we didn’t marry for love, that it was just about money, and we felt . . . we felt safe—”
“I told you the truth.” His face was bent in misery. Hair a mess. Shirt undone, pants still unzipped. “I have never lied to you, darling.”
I pressed my fingers against my eyes and pressed until I saw stars. “Stop, just . . . stop.” I let out a shocked laugh, and it sounded a bit too close to a sob. “I don’t know what to do, Grant. I don’t . . . I don’t know what to say right now.”
My voice faded. He said nothing. What could he possibly say?
For a few brief moments—fevered and passionate and unthinking—he and I were on a level playing field. We were equal.
And now we weren’t.
Yet again, I was at a disadvantage. Behind. Confused. Left to allow someone else to tell me about my own life.
I chose my words carefully, because I didn’t want to hurt him. I never really had. “I’m not mad. I’m just . . . a little thrown and I need a moment,” I told him, willing him to meet my gaze, but he stared down at the floor, face stoic, body stiff. “A hot shower or something. Is that okay?”
Grant’s frame expanded on a deep inhale, and when he lifted his eyes, they were carefully blank. “Of course. I’ll come in after you.”
The rain was more like a light mist when I let myself outside, and the air temp had dropped as the front passed.
The feel of it on my skin was a pleasant shock, and I tipped my head back when I knew I was out of his view.
All the thoughts in my head were a snarled mess, and it felt like I was walking through knee-deep concrete, everything slowing to a confusing crawl the longer it took me to wade through the mess.
Stuck.
Stuck again. Unable to move forward.
While I tried to pluck out a single, coherent thought, the sound of a pot smashing into the ground made me clench my jaw. I didn’t stop. Didn’t go back to see what happened.
Because another one broke. Then another.
And if this was his moment to unleash, then I wanted to allow him that in peace.
I ascended the deck stairs, the adrenaline long gone from my system, and my movements felt sluggish. Tired down to my bones. Already feeling sore in places that were unfamiliar.
When I let myself in through the back slider door, Rose was sitting on the couch with a book and a glass of wine. Her eyes widened.
“Holy bloody hell, what happened?” Then she dropped her gaze to my neck and arched a brow. I probably had a hickey the size of Vermont. “Actually, I’m not sure I want a recap. Are you all right?”
I didn’t have the energy for anything other than honesty. “The fuck if I know.”
She nodded slowly. “Wine?”
“No, thank you. I, uh, need a shower. Is it all right if I excuse myself for the night?”
“Of course.” She set the glass of wine down on the end table, watched me wordlessly as I walked down the hall and into our bedroom.
I shut the door behind me, and for a moment let my forehead rest on the hard surface. I closed my eyes, thinking about the way he’d kissed me. Held me. How good he’d felt. The words he’d spoken into my skin. I opened my eyes with a sigh, then headed for the shower.