Mercury Striking

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “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.

  The sound of the streets echoed in his tone, the tenor somehow intriguing and full of warning.

  Masculinity could be both beautiful and devastating in its brutality. She hadn’t realized that before. Even after months of fighting and months of hiding, she hadn’t seen the elemental nature of man at such a level. “I want you,” she whispered.

  He shed his jeans and reached down, with surprisingly gentle movements, to remove hers. She gasped at his fully erect, glistening cock. “Uh—”

  “We’ve established you haven’t been abused, and you’re not exactly afraid of me right now, but I need to know, how long has it been?” he asked, dropping one knee onto the bed and sliding up her.

  Her mouth opened and closed. He nearly enclosed her, pinning her to the bed, all heated male and lust-filled intent. Heated flesh slid against her, and she fought the urge to let her eyes roll back in her head. “How are you talking rationally right now?” she gasped.

  He reached for his jeans on the floor and drew out a condom. “Losing control isn’t an option. I asked you a question.”

  Yeah, but command filled every word. She slid her fingers through his thick hair and clenched. Her body burned, and her clit actually pounded for release. “Have you always been like this?”

  “No.” His grin transformed the harsh lines of his face into something almost sweet. “Believe me, I had a temper to tame. But now survival dictates we think before acting, and I’m sussing out the facts here. How long has it been?”

  She amused herself by sliding her hands through his rough hair. “A year, I guess. Before getting infected.”

  “Good.” He lay over her, elbows holding his weight, and lowered his head to kiss her deep. Question and intent filled his kiss, winding through her mouth and down to hit all the important spots on the way.

  She widened her legs, gasping when his cock jumped against her clit. “Any chance you could get lost in the moment?”

  He grinned against her mouth and leaned back, brown gaze warm. “Green Eyes, if I got lost in the moment, you’d be bent over the bed, face in the pillows, begging to come with every fiber of your being. I’d make you promise everything.”

  Heat flared in her abdomen, and a shudder slid down her back.

  He chuckled. “Don’t tempt me.” Before she could think again, doubt the moment, he reached down and slid his thumb across her clitoris.

  Electricity sparked through her sex. She arched into his hand, and the sound she made would’ve embarrassed her had her mind not blanked. The feelings, so good, so natural, nearly threw her into an early orgasm. “Jax,” she moaned.

  “Enough talking.” He shifted to the side and rolled a condom into place. Then he levered his body over hers, both hands capturing her face to hold firm. “Decide now. You want slow and building, or do you want fast and explosive? Want me to take you away?”

  Heat rose from her chest to her face, burning in its intensity. She was already wet and primed for him. “Not slow.”

  His chin lifted, his gaze intense. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

  She blinked, her body rubbing against his. Pride didn’t mean a damn thing in the face of oblivion. Add in pleasure, and she truly didn’t give a damn what she needed to say to reach temporary bliss. “Fast and wild. Make me forget.”

  “Forget what?” His biceps strained as if he held himself back with great effort.

  “Everything,” she whispered, spreading her legs wider.

  “Fair enough.” Raising up to plant one hand by the side of her head, he reached between them, positioned himself, and shoved deep enough to stop her breath.

  Pain flared inside her, and she arched up against him, her breath catching in her lungs. One hand slapped against his chest, as if trying to ward him off. Feelings, raw and real, ripped through her. Pain hinting at an edge of pleasure.

  He grabbed one of her thighs and pushed up, opening her further. “You’re tight, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping his wet forehead to hers.

  That simple act, one of intimacy, warmed her throughout. “I know.”

  He positioned the other thigh, opening her fully to him and whatever he wanted to do to her. The moment should’ve whispered for caution, but instead, her desire clawed higher. She couldn’t move. Her internal walls relaxed around him, and her breath picked up.

  “Hold on, Lynne Harmony,” he said, dropping his face to the crook of her neck.

  She slid both hands over his shoulders, feeling scars and bunched muscle. At her most vulnerable, with him inside her, holding her where he wanted her, a small part of her wanted to seek reassurance. To find in him something safe, something to cling to in the midst of hell. Instead, she shook her head back on the pillow and dug her nails into his flesh, taking what she could.

  He growled low and slid out only to shove back inside again. Hard.

  “Oh God,” she moaned.

  At the sound, at the acceptance, his hand clamped onto her hip, and he started to thrust. Hard, with precision, with determination, he pounded into her. The metal headboard slammed against the wall, but Lynne didn’t care who heard.

  Each hard thrust, each impact of his body inside hers, forced her to climb higher. Bliss, jagged in its reality, hovered just out of reach. More. God, she needed so much more.

  She clawed into his back, her thighs trembling as he held them apart. The immobility, the forced vulnerability, spiraled her into an orgasm so wild she could only hold on and gasp. Her body contracted around his, holding tight, the waves burning through her. Her mouth hit his shoulder, and she clamped down, needing to find an anchor.

  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 cu
ddle.

  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?”

  Her expression said definitely. “You may get more of a fight next time, you know.”

  “And you’ll get more of a beating,” he finished easily, flattening his hand over one buttock. Heat filled his palm, and when she growled, he squeezed harder.

  “You know, I don’t think making battery perfectly okay is the way to start a new society,” she mumbled.

  Perhaps not. He continued his exploration to her smooth thighs, smiling at her hitch of breath. “I’m not trying for a new society—we’re still in survival mode, baby.” Hell. The last thing he’d ever be was a societal leader. His time as ruler, as commander, was temporary and born of necessity. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only woman I’ve battered.”

  “Except for the woman you choked out,” Lynne snapped.

  “True.” But the two situations were different. Or maybe the two women were different. He frowned, not liking where his thoughts led. Lynne Harmony was different.

  Not wanting to delve deeper into his motivations, he quickly switched topics, to one that had been eating at him. “Lynne?”

  “What?”

  “Who do you want me to kill?”

  That quickly, she shut down. An impressive veil dropped over her expressive eyes, and her face went cold. “I’m not ready to share.”

  Interesting. “All right. Then how about you tell me why there’s such a hurry to get to Myriad?”

  She mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch.

  “You said there were people who wanted to destroy any hope for a cure,” Jax continued, his heart beating harder.

  “There are.”

  “Do they know about Myriad?” he asked, his instincts flaring.

  “I think so,” she whispered, pressing her lips together. “But as far as I know, nobody has the location. It has to be in the documents you took.”

  He shook his head. “With our luck, probably not.”

  She licked her lips and dropped her gaze to his mouth. Tension hummed around them.

  Good to know they were on the same page, no matter how briefly. Grabbing another condom from his discarded jeans, he quickly sheathed himself.

  She watched him, eyes alert, lips curved, no protest.

  He rolled her over and flattened himself against her front, pinning her in place. Her lithe body, a bit too thin from traveling, nevertheless softened beneath him. Lust roared into his cock. “Why aren’t you ready to share any of the facts you have, and especially the person you’d like killed?”

  She snuggled her butt into the bed, cascading wetness across his balls. “I’m still weighing my options and haven’t decided on the right course of action.”

  Now that sounded like the scientist he figured her to be. “Interesting. You think you actually have options?”

  She met his gaze levelly, easily, so many secrets in her deep eyes, his instincts sprang alert.

  His head lifted. “Lynne.”

  He’d spanked her, he’d seen her cry, and he’d fucked her into oblivion. Yet the woman eyed him with no hesitation, no caution. Admiration and warning ticked through him. He took a deep breath. “Have I given you any indication I’m somebody you want to take on?”

  She stretched her back, elongating smooth muscles. “Have I given you any indication I’m afraid of you?” A quick blink of devastatingly intelligent eyes caught him up short. “I know you’re in charge here in your little fiefdom, but I’ve survived more than your very worst, Jax Mercury.”

  Brilliance sizzled from her. In his time of war, in the fighting, he’d seen might win every battle. Yet looking in her eyes, in the absolute conf
idence she exuded, he suddenly remembered a time, not so long ago, when intelligence ruled. For now, he couldn’t help but be intrigued—and challenged.

  So he slowly, smoothly, slid inside her. Conquering in the most primitive way. Yet as he reached home, as her internal walls gripped him with enough heat to make him grit his teeth, he wondered who’d been captured.

  He’d dated tough women, really tough. On the streets and then in the service. And he’d dated a couple of really intelligent women. But the combination of so much brain and courage, he hadn’t seen before.

  Her hand flattened over the tattoo on his chest and down his left arm. “I see 20 in here, but there are so many lines crossing over the mark. Why didn’t you just get rid of it?”

  He glanced down at the dark lines. “Twenty is my past and has marked me, so I kept it but showed how I’d changed. The 44 is from my unit . . . something just we knew, and it changed me more than I would’ve thought possible.” At least before Scorpius. “We can’t erase where we’ve been.”

  “Ah. And the Vanguard tattoo?” She traced the lines across his other arm with her fingers. “The sword behind the shield has a scorpion for a handle.” She tapped the heart in the center of the shield that held the word VANGUARD. “A scorpion?”

  “I figured it fit, considering Scorpius has altered us all.”

  Her thighs gripped him, and she slid her feet around him to press her heels into his back. “I’m smart and I’m tough, Jax.”

  He paused, deep inside her, to focus on the hint of vulnerability in her voice as her words mirrored his thoughts. “I’m aware of that.”

  A pretty pink dashed across her high cheekbones. “Don’t hurt me.”

  The plea, made as a statement, tunneled deep into him and planted hard. He closed his eyes. Of its own volition, his body began to move. He dropped his forehead to hers, skin to skin, heart-to-heart, and started to thrust. Slow and powerful, he shoved inside her, a sense of urgency and coming home surrounding him.

  He altered his angle, and she gasped. His lips formed a smile against her damp skin, and he did it again. Caught up in the moment, caught up in the woman, he pounded harder, allowing them both to just feel. Enough thinking.