Page 49 of Brutal Mercy

His eyes caress my body like he’s imagining all the dirty things he wants to do with me. “I don’t own any sexy dresses, not even this one.”

“You will. I like seeing you this way.”

I set my fork down. The meal is phenomenal. His cook is amazing. But he’s stirring me up inside. And I intend to drive my husband crazy to see how he responds.

My hands go to the slim spaghetti straps. I slowly lower one, then the other, until the slinky material is hanging onto my breasts.

“And just what do you think you’re doing,mi dea luna?” His words deepen around the Italian, and I shiver.

“Moving the night along.” I tug the material down, exposing my breasts. This is the first time I’ve ever tried to seduce a man. I didn’t know I would feel this exposed or powerful.

His eyes instantly laser in on the globes, and I straighten my spine, pushing them out further. His gaze is molten with the force of his desire—for me. He’s smart and powerful and the sexiest man alive. And he wantsme.

He wipes his mouth on his napkin and sets it on the table beside his plate. The legs of his chair scrape against the hardwood as he rises and rounds the table.

I glance up the long length of his body. And I shiver when our gazes connect. Hunger for me is etched into every line. And he makes me feel beautiful, wanted, like he’ll die if he doesn’t touch me.

And I’m here for it. Aching. My body is on fire beneath his scorching gaze. And I know I should be running for the hills. He’s Mafia. The epitome of danger. Any sane woman would do whatever it took to escape him. And yet, the dangerous aura surrounding him is part of his appeal. I shove away my doubts. I’ll have an existential crisis later. Because every fiber of my being wants him.

A part of me wants to send Diego Alvarez a thank you card for inadvertently sending me into Hades’s arms. Because in his arms, I no longer feel like the woman who works all the time and whose constant companion is exhaustion. No, in Hades’s arms, I feel safe and wanted.

He leans down and hoists me up. And I automatically wrap my arms around his neck. This close, our breaths mingle. His scent washes over me. God, he makes me feel small and delicate and feminine.

“Are you sore from today?”

I blink back tears. He can’t be all bad. Not when he’s this worried over whether my body hurts from our earlier tryst in his office. And it’s why the truth spills out. “A little. But only because it’s so new.” He scowls. But I blurt, “I’ll be fine. Promise. Please don’t say no, not tonight. I want you so much. Teach me everything.” My fingers toy with the hair at his nape.

His blue eyes simmer as he heads toward the bed. “We have years to explore each other’s bodies. We shouldn’t engage, not if you’re hurting. But I need you too damn badly to care. I need to fuck you.”

My smile nearly breaks my face. “Do it. I want you to.”

“And you could tempt a fucking saint, which I’m not even close to being.” He lays me on the bed and removes his tie and dress shirt. I don’t think I will ever tire of looking at his ripped chest, with muscle upon muscle competing for dominance. His pecs are dusted with dark hair, and a slender happy trail descends over his abs and dips beneath the waistband of his slacks.

Just looking at him, my nipples bead into tight points. I wriggle out of the dress until I’m naked. When he’s in his boxers, he joins me, lying down beside me.

He gathers me into his arms, pressing our naked chests together. I love the feel of his massive body against me. He cups my cheek as his gaze searches my face. For what I don’t know, but I can’t keep my hands to myself any longer. My palms connect with his chest, caressing his pectorals. His muscles are firm, and I spy the ink along his shoulders. This man works on his body, honing it into the gorgeous hunk of man meat before me. “I want to study your tattoo.”

“Later.” He flashes me a sexy grin and lowers his mouth until it’s a hairsbreadth away. “Last chance. Once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

The desire to explore his tattoo is forgotten. My gaze dips to his kissable mouth. And I want it on me.

Instead of replying, I show him. I erase the flimsy distance by plastering my lips against his mouth. I kiss him with all the desire inside me that emerges whenever he’s near. And I know I’m inexperienced with kissing and lovemaking compared to him, but my clumsy efforts don’t deter him.

Hades groans and deepens our hungry lip-lock.

His tongue darts along the seam of my lips. And I gasp, allowing him inside. He slips his tongue in, tangling with mine in a torrid dance that leaves me breathless. My head spins. And my hands curl against his powerful chest. My nails dig in as he kisses me brainless.

And his kiss devastates me. It reforges me. Parts of myself that have been buried deep inside me surface. A wanton woman aching to have him show me all his depraved fantasies.

He leans in, pressing his upper torso against me.

He inserts one of his thighs between my legs. And I wrap a leg around his waist, yearning to get closer. The gesture brings his hips against my intimate center. I ache for him.

But he doesn’t speed things along even as I undulate beneath him. He kisses me as if we have all the time in the world. Slowly. Sinfully. Like he is committing my mouth to memory. I sigh as he teases me. I’m floating, tracing my hands over his powerful back.

Hades nips my bottom lip. It’s all the warning I get before our kiss changes. One minute, it’s a sweet, languid exploration, and the next, it’soh my god, I can’t get enough. I’m okay if he devours me whole.

My hands slid up to his neck, and I wrap my arms around him. Sliding my fingers into his hair, I hold him prisoner. I don’t want him to ever stop kissing me. And while logically, I know he forced me to marry him to save Lyla, I think I got the better bargain.

---