Page 31 of Brutal Mercy

“They’re aware, but the boys do have to sleep. But not to worry, we’ve been preparing for this. All our warehouses are fully stocked with extra men on them. None of our people will go without or be defenseless.”

We spend the better part of the morning and into the afternoon before we break. I have other work to do for my legal business that still requires my attention, but Massimo Enterprises will have to wait.

Because I’ve gotta check on my bride.

She’ll want an update on her sister. There’s not much I can tell her at this point. But I’ll convince her that we’ll get her back. If anyone can find her, it’s Ares. My brother is a fucking bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out what others don’t want found.

But as I’m heading back down the hall, I think I should treat her. Being my wife means she needs the right kind of clothing and appearance. My men moved everything from the bedroom at her house. But if the selection is anything like her house, it likely won’t work for the charity galas and other highbrow events we’ll wind up attending. It’s doubtful that she owns any designer dresses.

I’ll have Athena contact her favorite designer. Maybe once she’s feeling better, I’ll take my new bride to the city and get her outfitted in all the latest fashions. But for now, I’ll have Athena order some stuff for her online and get overnight delivery. I shoot my sister a text with those instructions. Luna doesn’t even have her own toothbrush, but we’ll rectify that. She’ll have everything she needs at her fingertips.

I shove my bedroom door open. And the position I catch her in is comical, or it would be, except she’s attempting to climb out of bed with her bad ankle. She’s currently half in, half out of the bed with her good foot on the floor.

With my hands on my hips, I chastise her. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Looking disheveled and utterly gorgeous in my shirt and nothing else, Luna gasps at being caught. “Trying to go to the bathroom.”

While I admire her independence and grit, I sigh. My wife is going to be a handful and keep me on my fucking toes. “And I told you to call me. My number’s in your phone. Why didn’t you call or text me?”

“Because I don’t want to do that every time I need to go to the bathroom. It’s ridiculous to have to call for help just to pee. Don’t you think it would be easier if I had some crutches?”

“And what part of Dr. Moreno telling you to stay off that foot for a week solid don’t you understand?”

She scowls, but it comes off as more of a pout. It’s adorable as shit. But I hide my grin. She needs to learn that I mean to take care of her in spite of her stubbornness.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean that I can’t go to the bathroom by myself.”

I know it’s not what he meant, but I enjoy carrying her around and taking care of her. She always seems shocked by it. And while she’s tall for a woman, she’s a comfortable armful.

Slamming the door shut, I march her way with my most imposing scowl. This is the face I wear when I’m about to punish someone who has betrayed my loyalty. But it doesn’t faze her. She bites her bottom lip with a sheepish expression, much like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

I hoist her into my arms. And I’m struck by how right she feels. This is where she belongs—in my arms. I can’t shake it. And I’m not going to fight it either. She’s my wife. My arms are her place from this day forth.

“You realize this is overkill, right?” Her fingers tease my nape, and I want to lean into the innocent touch.

“Can’t a husband care for his injured wife?” I shoot back as we enter the bathroom.

She sighs with an exaggerated eye roll like my carrying her is a hardship. “Fine. But I need some crutches. I’m not going to keep this up much longer. And it’s not that I don’t like having you carry me, because I do. But let’s be real. You have more important things to do than to help me pee multiple times a day.”

She’s not wrong. And this is an indulgence on my part, simply because it’s an excuse to put my hands on her.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you’re a model patient for the next two days, letting me help you when necessary, then I’ll make sure you have some crutches to start getting around after that. I just want to make sure you don’t re-injure that ankle.” And I’m not going to tell her that the crutches were delivered to the house this morning. They can stay in my office for two more days.

“Deal.”

I carry her over to the toilet. She knows the routine by now. Holding onto my neck, I lower her down until her right foot is firmly on the tile. “Keep your hands on my shoulders.”

“I feel like I should salute you or something,” she teases with a smirk.

Fuck, this woman. I’m starting to believe I’ve met my match. That she’s everything I didn’t know I needed.

“Brat.” This woman will keep me entertained, if nothing else. Before her sudden advent into my world, I never realized how dull and lifeless my existence had become. And she’s brought color and intrigue and a startling amount of chemistry. My entire body sizzles at the thought of her. When we’re this close, my cock pulses with lust.

I lean forward and drag her panties down her long legs. I suck in a breath at the sight of her pussy.

Fuck, I want her. I wish I could chuck all my responsibilities and spend the afternoon with those long legs wrapped around my waist while I pound that pretty pussy.

I own this pussy. It’s mine and mine alone. No other man will ever know what it feels like. And I ache to taste her. I want to lap at her bud, slurp up all her cream, and make her come screaming my name.

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