Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(23)

Shock and heat spiraled under her skin. She sighed and pressed back against his hand. He wandered up, licking, to nip her earlobe.

She panted out air, her body revving alive. The most alive she’d felt in so long. Her nipples hardened and her sex softened, with a dull ache setting up in her core. Her fingers curled into his chest, and she shifted closer.

The hand at her nape twisted, exerting control.

She forgot how to breathe.

He traced under her jaw, holding her in place, nipping her chin. Then he hovered, his mouth over hers.

Please, please, please.

She held her breath, not moving, her eyelids fluttering closed.

His tongue licked one corner of her mouth and then the other. She moaned and moved closer into him. He teased her mouth, drawing out the anticipation, keeping her on the edge.

“Jax,” she whispered, so much need coursing through her she couldn’t think.

That quickly, he unleashed himself on her. Deep and fierce, he took her mouth, driving her head back against his hand. Somehow he shifted them so she straddled his legs, and his free hand grabbed the waist of her jeans and pressed her down on his cock.

Even through their clothing, she could feel his heat.

She moaned into his mouth, both hands threading through his hair, her body gyrating against his. While she should hate him, really hate him for the callous way he’d treated her earlier, for the moment, all she could feel was pleasure. Lust overwhelmed her. She needed him to fill her. All the empty places, all the loneliness . . . he could fill her.

The desperation, the earlier fight, the worldly devastation all disappeared in his kiss. In his overtaking her with something beyond mere passion.

He wrenched his mouth free and yanked her shirt over her head.

Neon blue glowed against his olive-colored skin. She paused, her desire banked. For the moment, she’d actually forgotten.

He inhaled, leaned down, and kissed the blue.

Her heart, if that was what still beat there, turned over. For him.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when his lips enclosed her nipple.

She gasped, her hands tightening in his hair, her eyelids closing. He sucked. Hard. Nothing could’ve prevented the low moan that slid up her throat and into his hair. He found the other nipple and pinched.

A mini-orgasm rocked through her.

More. She wanted more. Her body moved of its own volition, her thighs clamping his, rubbing against him.

He manacled her hips and stilled her, leaning back. “Decide now. You want this?”

God, she did. It felt good. After so long, something felt good. She didn’t care about repercussions, and she had stopped thinking about tomorrows months ago. “Yes.” She tried to move again, but he kept her immobilized.

He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head to the side, his gaze capturing hers. “This is fucking. Full bore, I’ll take you and make you come so hard you’ll forget the world for a few minutes. But that’s all it is. Not love, not forever, and not a way to manipulate me.” Dark red spun beneath his skin, highlighting the angles and deep hollows. His arms vibrated as if fighting his determination to hold back.

She gulped down air, only partially listening, needing to move. So she nodded.

“Say it.”

“Fucking,” she breathed out. “Just that.”

With the words, he changed. Not in an obvious way, but his tension exploded out, and his eyes darkened. With promise and something darkly male.

Standing, he kept her straddling him, his hands cupping her butt. He squeezed fresh bruises.

Pain and then fierce need cascaded through her, throwing her headfirst into a desire hot enough to incinerate. His responding grin held so much sin she blinked, captivated by the raw handsomeness that was Jax Mercury.

For the moment, however brief, he was hers.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Earlier,” she breathed, gyrating against him, her butt still smarting.

“Point to make.” No apology, no regret glimmered in his hard eyes. Only desire, rimmed with lust he did nothing to hide.

The rational part of her, the woman who’d lived before the world had changed, knew she should court caution. Understood she should ask questions.

But questions and caution were things for the past. Only here and now existed, and her body ruled. So alive, for the first time in too long, she took the chance to embrace danger in order to feel again. To be a woman, with flaws and fears, strengths and soul, for one night in time.

With a stranger more deadly than the bacteria that had killed billions.

The rational part of her brain, the scientist that understood human behavior, comprehended the advantage of being tied to Jax Mercury. Safety lay in his savagery, in being protected by a man who had what it took to survive.

But he was more than that. She knew, from the gentle way he’d treated her earlier, the man had depths.

Even as her mind tried to claim the decision, her body and a deeper part of who she was clung to the moment. She’d been numb, she’d been afraid, and she’d been hopeless.

Now she hungered.

Even so, when he laid her on the bed, vulnerability swamped her.

He straightened and tugged the shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed and battle-scarred chest. Some scars were old and faded to white, some new and still jagged; knife and bullet wounds cut into hard muscle and firm ridges. “Nothing happens you don’t want,” he said, his hands going to his belt buckle as he read her with impressive accuracy.