Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(25)
He growled low, grabbed her ass to lift her half off the bed, and hammered harder, giving no quarter. Finally, as her waves died down, he held her in place, hand across her butt, and jerked with his own release.
For the briefest of moments, he slumped against her, his heart beating against her blue one. A lazy swipe of his tongue across her wet neck made her shiver.
With a deep exhale, he slid out and removed the condom, tied it, and dropped it in the trash. Turning, he tugged her into his body, spoon style. “You okay?” He sounded sleepy and almost boyish.
Adrenaline and nerves sparked throughout her body, although her muscles melted into pure relaxation. “Yes.” She couldn’t stop a soft smile from lifting her mouth.
For a badass, dangerous killer of a soldier who had no problem wielding a belt, Jax Mercury sure liked to cuddle.
Chapter Nine
The poets from times long gone knew the futility of survival and the necessity of impossible hope.
—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony
Morning light awoke Jax, and he ran a hand down the very nice curve of Lynne Harmony’s ass. Man, he’d slept an entire night. She lay on her stomach, her back rising and falling as she breathed, her head buried in her arms. Dots of sweat glimmered on her shoulders. The blankets had pooled at her feet. A contented sigh went through her.
He smiled, not guarding his expression since she couldn’t see him.
Continuing his exploration, he traced a very light stripe from the belt he’d wielded. The woman bruised easily, and he’d need to remember that fact.
She yelped and shifted her hips, trying to shake him off.
He tightened his hold. “Knock it off. I’m playing.”
“Play time is over, and you owe me an apology.” She turned her head and opened one very green eye.
He lifted an eyebrow and traced her smooth skin. “For what?”
Her pretty lips tilted in an expression close to a snarl. She tossed the wild mane of her hair and glanced over her shoulder at the clear result of leather on flesh. “For those.”
Truth be told, he didn’t like marking a woman. Ever. But he’d needed to get his point across without really harming her, and she needed to know he’d follow through on any warning he made. The lines were clear, his thinking linear and unemotional. Even more so after the fever than when he’d been a soldier. Now his brain ruled far more than his heart ever had.
But as he kept his gaze stoic and faced that spitting green eye, something inside him shifted.
“How can you not apologize now?” she asked.
“Now?” he asked, lazy slumber in the tone.
“Well, yeah. You know, after.” When the woman blushed, the color reached her bare shoulders. He watched, fascinated.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to be clear. “The sex was great, and I’d love to be inside you again. But I meant it—just fucking. It changes nothing between the two of us except to provide an avenue to release some stress.” Yeah, he sounded like a dickhead. But he’d rather be an asshole than a liar, and if she wanted to continue with him, she needed to make the decision with her eyes wide open. “You disobey me again, you put yourself or anybody else in danger, and I’ll raise welts next time.”
She turned her head, surprise sizzling in her stunning eyes. “You’re kidding me.”
“No.” He kept her gaze, fairness dictating he show her the truth. His point had been made, and she’d think twice before endangering his people.
She rolled on her side to face him fully, anger sharpening her gaze. “Let me get this straight. Jax Mercury, the legend feared far and wide by rebel groups and Rippers, keeps his soldiers in line by threatening a good spanking.”
Amusement swelled his chest, and he paused at the sensation. When was the last time he’d actually laughed? The idea of his spanking either Tace or Wyatt made him bite back a full-out laugh. “Not exactly.”
“Meaning?” Even naked, after he’d fucked her nearly senseless, spirit and challenge filtered across Lynne Harmony’s classic features.
He sighed. “If a soldier disobeys, he’s out. I mean, if the screwup doesn’t get him killed. Same with citizens. Those are my rules right now, in the name of survival, and if people don’t like them, they can get the hell out.” He wasn’t policing anybody, and he didn’t believe in martial law. People were all in or out right now; that was the only way he knew how to move forward. If they survived the Rippers and the local rebel groups on his ass, then he’d figure out a more democratic way of living in the future.
She punched him, not so gently, on the chest. “You didn’t kick me out.”
“Well now.” He slid a hand through her hair, enjoying her involuntary shudder. “I can’t let you leave, can I? You’re too valuable and too dangerous. So I can either cage you, which I don’t want to do, or I can make sure you understand, on a rather basic level, the repercussions of crossing me.” He caressed down her flank to squeeze her firm ass, hiding a smile when she hissed. “We live in primitive times, darlin’. You won’t challenge me again.”
“But that’s . . . I mean, that is—”
“Effective,” he finished for her. “Are you going to cross me again?”