Planet Athion: The Complete Series by Angel Lawson

47

Mercy

I’d been standingoutside his room for god-knows how long before he finally opened the door. The data-pad is in my hands—my excuse for being here, not the twist-turning of my stomach. That changes when he stands before me, bare-chested and wild-eyed.

I hold the pad out lamely. “Thank you for letting me do that. I feel better.”

He takes the pad and his fingertips skim mine, sending charged energy through my body. He tosses it on the small table next to the door. “You’re welcome.”

There’s an awkward beat—one where we should speak and declare what’s running through our minds. Why we’re both standing in the hallway at this time of night.

We should speak but I get the sense Damon isn’t much of a talker, and he confirms this when he reaches for me, dragging me into the room and slamming the door behind us, my body sighing in relief.

“I think this is a very bad idea,” he says, hand pressed against the door next to my head.

“I think you’re wrong.” I’ve got my hands on his abdomen, feeling the taut skin and soft hair. I’ve wanted to touch like this for days.

“I think my brothers will kill me.”

“No, I don’t think they will.” I know this without a doubt. I know them.

“I think you’ll regret it.” Me, his eyes say.

“I’m a slave on my way to live a life of misery. Being with you would be the least of my regrets, Damon.”

His jaw clenches and his face is now inches from my own. “You think I’m letting him have you? That there’s the slightest chance I’d hand you over to that monster?”

I run my thumb over the dip at his hip and his abdomen caves. I can’t feel him. He’s not close enough, but I see the outline of the bulge in his shorts. There’s zero doubt about his desire for me, too. “Say you did, how would you want to spend your last days? Fighting with me, or fu—”

He cuts me off with his mouth, the warm feel of his lips against mine. His kiss is strong, forceful, like he wants to wipe my thoughts about the Master and my fate away. It’s working, because I wrap my fingers around his waistband and pull him to me, desperate to feel the hard want between his legs.

My knees quiver in reaction, my core aches. I run my hands along his arms, his shoulders and chest, feeling as much of him as I can. When I rub against him, he groans, moving his hands to my backside and pulling me even closer. I hitch my leg up his thigh and he pulls me off the ground. I latch my body to his, dangerously close.

The friction is nice, his kisses deadly, but none of it is enough. I want to see him—all of him—feel him, and I almost cry in relief when he pulls us away from the door and walks us toward the bed.

Except he doesn’t lay me down. He just holds me, slowing his kisses until his forehead presses against mine and our breath mingles. “They told me about you,” he confesses, quietly. “They told me about this woman that had knocked them off their feet. Three battle-worn Custo being taken down by a female.” His lips graze mine and he’s still painfully hard, pressing between my legs. “Then I met you. Saw you up on the auction stage. Not just beautiful but brave.”

“I was terrified.”

“You didn’t show it.” He kisses the base of my neck, sucking at the sensitive flesh, and I shiver. “I haven’t had a woman challenge me in a long time, Mercy, and I’d forgotten how incredibly sexy that is.”

“You’re a little bit of a challenge yourself.” I laugh. “You’ve made me work hard.”

“I think we both deserve a little bit of a reward.”

Finally, finally, he lowers me to the floor, reaching up under my shirt and lifting it above my head. His focus is on my body, absorbing every inch. His hand skims down my arm, under the curve of my breast and down to the elastic of my pants.

I tug at the string holding his up and he pushes mine down over my backside. Freed, his cock bobs forward, grazing my lower belly. We stand before one another, exposed and hungry.

I fall backwards onto the mattress and he leans over me, kissing my mouth, my neck, my breasts. His mouth is hot, his tongue leisurely, but there’s a force linking our bodies as they collide toward one another like magnets.

Damon stands at the end of the bed, dragging my hips with him, and pushes my knees apart. He drops where I can’t see him, but I feel him, damn I feel him, breath hot between my legs. He uses his tongue to lick, his lips to suck, and I writhe on the bed on the edge of losing my mind.

I reach between us and tug him upward, feeling for the soft velvet of his cock, running my fingers over the sticky tip. His thumb rubs over the sensitive spot between my legs, circling and circling until my knees fall to the side. Pulling me to him, he bends to give me a kiss, his cock hovering just outside my entrance.

“Don’t make me wait,” I plead.

He doesn’t.

He plunges in fast and deep, lifting my hips in the process. I cry out and grip his sides; he’s right over me, our faces inches apart. He continues to pleasure me between my legs, his fingers sticky and wet. His mouth moves back to my breast and I’m overcome. It’s too much. So much. God, I can’t get enough.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he mumbles, jaw tight with wavering restraint. His eyes meet mine. “And beautiful, damn, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Our bodies move together, his breath growing labored. My eyes close, overwhelmed by all the emotions. Each of these men have their demons, their baggage and past, but this man? His hasn’t made him hesitant or wary.

It’s turned him into a beast. A beast with passion and possession and control over his mind and body that in turn controls mine. There’s not an instant of resistance, just his want combining with mine, and as the bed shakes and our cries grow louder and our bodies tremble under the broken wave of desire, I understand this man more.

Damon may have saved me from that slave ship and a life of serving the Master, but in this very moment, I’ve done the unthinkable.

Saved him from himself.