Page 29 of Brutal Mercy

Hades chuckles low, a deep rumble in his chest, and he teases me. “It’s nice knowing my wife doesn’t want me to leave our bed. But alas, I must. You see, I promised my wife I would rescue her sister. And I can’t do that from our marriage bed.”

Slightly mollified, I nod. “Fine. But you will come to bed when you’re done working?”

“Yes, it will be late, though. Get some rest.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and climbs out of bed.

He flips the lights off as he leaves the bedroom with a backward glance that sears my soul.

How did I go fromoh wow, waking up beside a stranger is weirdto being married and wanting my husband to stay in bed with me all in the same day?

Chapter eight

Hades

Themorningafterourwedding, I wake up with Luna snuggled against my side.

In sleep, she looks even more innocent. Her face is nestled against my shoulder. Her inky lashes have made crescent moons against her peaches and cream complexion. The smattering of pale freckles over the bridge of her nose is adorable. I want to kiss each one.

I clench my hands to keep myself from touching her face. When all I want is to learn the silken contours of her lush lips. Then run my hands through her hair, tilt her head back, and run my mouth along the smooth column of her graceful neck.

Fuck, I want to devour her. And randy bastard that he is, my dick thinks that is the best idea I’ve had in years.

As a man who has been a confirmed bachelor for years, my attraction, my need for Luna, is rather uncanny. And I relish having her in my arms, even for something as innocent as sleeping. That’s never happened with another woman of my acquaintance. Fucking them, yes. Sleeping beside them throughout the night, no. Because sleeping next to someone is intimate, it displays trust. And in the end, all those women whose names and faces I can’t remember never garnered my trust. My lust, absolutely. But trust? That’s something a person has to earn.

Except for Luna.

It’s likely the dumbest move on my part, but I trust her. If she has a thought or an emotion, she wears it plain as day. I’m addicted to her innocence. It’s the breath of fresh air I didn’t realize I craved.

Discovering that she’s never fucked a man before, that I will be the first and only man to ever feel the taut clasp of her pussy squeezing my dick, ignites a deep-seated possession.

I want to shelter and protect her at all costs.

It blows my mind how territorial I am where she’s concerned. And my siblings think I’ve lost my mind. They believe there are other avenues we could pursue, other excuses we could use to justify our war with the cartel.

But they don’t understand the cataclysmic desire I have for her—my virgin bride.

And I’m a sick fuck. My morning wood aches to bury itself in her tight pussy. All I can think about is sinking balls deep inside her and fucking her until we’re both spent. In my forty-one years on this planet, I’ve never had a woman wiggle her way past my defenses. But my new bride has accomplished just that, and I’ve barely touched her.

A virgin has me on edge and almost coming out of my skin. Is it wrong that I feel this possessive of a woman I’ve not fucked yet? Probably.

Do I care? Nope.

I’ve never cared for boundaries or being told no. I take what I want when I want it. And I want Luna with a need bordering on obsession.

Fuck, she’s only been in my life for three days. Less than seventy-two hours. And she’s all I can think about. I switch from war with the cartel to fucking Luna to eating Luna’s pretty cunt to war and then back again to Luna. She is consuming my thoughts. The fantasies I have with her in the starring role are kinky and depraved as hell.

And that kiss? I’ve never experienced such all-consuming hunger for a woman before. Because I fucking ached to devour her. I yearn to gobble her up and spend days worshipping every part of her lovely body.

But it won’t happen today, no matter how badly I ache to possess her body and soul. Because I have every intention of making her addicted to me.

Unfortunately, I can’t laze about in bed all morning with my new bride as much as I want to. There are far too many moving parts to oversee as we lob the first volley in the war.

With profound regret, I extricate myself from her supple form that seems to have been fashioned strictly for me. And I’m silent while I dress in a dark brown three-piece suit with a mint dress shirt and bronze tie. I exit the room, leaving her curled in bed like a sleepy kitten.

My office is down the hall from my bedroom on the second floor. Well, my real office, I should say—the one where I conduct my illicit business and do most of my work. I also have a formal office on the first floor where I conduct meetings with other businesses.

Inside the office suite of rooms, Athena is sitting at the computer at her desk in an ivory blouse and royal blue knee-length skirt. She is always appropriately dressed in public. The only time I’ve caught her in sweats was when she had the flu last year.

My office is located just beyond hers, while Ares's office is attached to his suite of rooms on the fourth floor. Just beyond my office is a panic room in case of an attack. It’s been stocked with everything a person would need to survive for a few days until help arrives. It’s blast and fire resistant in case a fight escalates to the use of explosives. In my line of work, I can never be too careful.

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