Read Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) Online

Authors: Elaine Levine

Tags: #alpha heroes, #romantic suspense, #Military Romance, #Red Team, #romance, #Contemporary romance

Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (21 page)

“Hope, you can go. I will still save your brother. There is no price you must pay. To me or anyone.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hope looked up at him. She let go of the cuffs. “Okay.” Her nostrils flared. She nodded. “Then this has nothing to do with my brother. This is between us.”

He blinked, uncertain he was hearing her correctly. She reached up and caught his face in her hands. “Thank you for the option, Mad Dog. I want to stay.”

He caught one of her hands, holding her palm to his mouth. “I’m not an easy lover.”

“If I wanted easy, I wouldn’t be here.” She looked into his eyes and said the words he’d never thought to hear from her lips. “I want you. I want this.”

He let go of her hand and rubbed his thumb over her mouth. He couldn’t put the words back in. They rattled around in his chest. She was light and he was dark; they could never mix. It was sex, he reminded himself, just fucking sex. Nothing more. Nothing else. Not forever. Barely more than now. His cock tightened.
 

It wasn’t even supposed to get to this point; he’d made the elaborate setup as a bluff to see how far she’d go to get what she wanted. He nodded. “Okay.”
 

He brought her hand over to one of the black leather cuffs. Her wrist was so slim; he hoped it would hold her. He wrapped the padded strap just below her wrist. He lifted her other hand and guided it to the matching cuff. He fastened them as tight as they would go, but still there was wiggle room.
 

He kissed her throat, her collarbone, the space between her breasts. He knelt before her. Palming one half of her ass, he pressed his face against her stomach, kissed her navel, mouthed the soft flesh between her hips, drew his face over her pubic bone. He thrust his tongue between her folds. She jerked against her arm restraints, rattling the chains. He kissed her thigh, then drew her leg over to an ankle cuff. He moved to her other ankle, opening his mouth against her inner thigh, dragging his teeth down a short stretch of flesh as he guided that ankle to its waiting strap.
 

 
Max rose to his feet. Hope gave him a warning glance. “Remember our agreement. No pain, cameras, or other people. And use condoms.”

Max slowly grinned. “Demands from the woman already in chains.”

“Mads…”
 

He turned his back on her and took a step back as he studied her open and vulnerable position.

“What are you doing?”

“Wondering what part of you to devour first.” His gaze swept over her. His cock was so stiff, it hurt when he moved. He pushed his vest to one side, baring a breast. He brushed his fingers over the lush curve, watching her nipple tighten. “Shall I start here, with the sweet swell of your breast?” He ran his fingers lightly down her chest to her belly. “Or here, with your soft and sensitive center?” His hand went down farther, over her curls, dipping into the space between her legs. “Or here, where you are already wet and delicious?”

He leaned close to her mouth. She lifted up slightly, meeting him partway, urging him forward. “Maybe I’ll start with your mouth.” He leaned still closer. “There, at least, I can be inside you.”

“Just start. This is killing me,” Hope growled. “You’ve got too much on.”

“Only jeans. You’re wearing one thing. And I’m wearing one thing.”

“I’ve made a major concession accepting these restraints. You should make one as well. It’s only fair.”

Max ran his hands from her wrists over her arms. He pushed aside his vest and took hold of her waist. “What gave you the impression that any of this would be fair?” He bent lower and kissed her neck. “Nothing in life is fair. Not a fucking thing.” His mouth closed over her jaw, catching the ridge of it between his teeth. She lifted her chin, and a moan slipped past her lips.
 

He moved his mouth, taking hers. She opened for him, offering her heated, moist mouth. He thrust his tongue inside, brushing against hers, above, below, to the side. He drew back just slightly and nibbled at her upper lip. When she pushed against his lips, hungry for more, he turned his head. “You forget who’s running this show.”

She groaned. “Are you always this slow?”

“We’re not in a hurry. You gave me the entire night.” He huffed a silent laugh, blowing heat against her neck. “Believe me, when the sun rises, you’ll know you’ve been well and thoroughly banged.”

Her chest was moving with the heavy breaths she took. “Show me. Prove it.”

He lifted his hands from her and backed away, tucking them beneath his armpits. “You’re too impatient. When you calm down, we’ll continue.”

“Mads!” She stamped a foot, the slight movement allowed within the chain’s slack. The motion made her breasts bounce. “Finish this.”

“Finish? We can’t even begin until you yield to me.”

“Please,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Please, just continue.”

He smiled. “Better.” He stroked a hand over his aching dick. Her eyes were glued to his hand, her nostrils flared. He reached inside his loose jeans, adjusting himself so that his cock was vertical instead of leaning to the left. It stood above his waistband. He palmed it.
 

He heard the breath she sucked in. “You’re pierced there.”

He grinned, gently squeezing the apadravya against his flesh. “Yep.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It hurts not being in you.” He unzipped his pants as he came back toward her. He rubbed himself against her core, pressing against her folds without entering her. “Christ, it’s gonna feel good between us.” He straightened and pushed the edges of his vest aside, baring her breasts. He went to his knees and captured those soft mounds in his palms. He watched her as he played with them, massaging them, rubbing his palms over the tense nipples. He leaned over and kissed the sensitive underside. Sucking and licking.
 

Tension tightened around the slim structure of Hope’s face. A fine line showed between her brows. Her brown eyes looked black. He repeated his ministrations on her other breast, then kissed his way down between her ribs. He let his tongue circle her navel, in several narrowing rotations, until it dipped inside that small indentation.
 

He looked up at her as he kissed just below her belly button, lower and lower until he reached the trim line of her dark blond curls. He groaned against her soft triangle, knowing she’d feel the rumble of it deep inside.
 

She hissed, “Mads—”

“Hmmm?”

“Release me. Let me go.” He looked up at her. “I want to hold you.”

Max smiled as he ran his hands up her bare thighs, slipping around to cup her cheeks. “Not this time. Maybe not the next. Lean back against the wall.”

He mouthed her core, his tongue finding her clitoris. He’d never tasted anything as sweet as her excited body. He reached a finger up to stroke her folds as he licked and sucked. She was whimpering, her body moving hungrily beneath his attentions. Her breath came in irregular puffs. He looked up at her as his finger slowly entered her. She was frowning down in concentration, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He smiled up at her, soaking in the sight and scent of her passion.

“Come for me,” he urged.

“No. Not like this.”

“You think you can hold out?” He pushed a second finger into her, pumping in and out, tapping against her G-spot. She didn’t answer him. She didn’t need to. Her eyes were dilated, her nostrils flared. He bent his head, returning his attention to her sex. He could feel her inner core tensing, tightening. And then she cried out, rattling her wrist chains as she grabbed them for support, bucking helplessly against his face and hand.

When her orgasm faded slightly, he stood up and stepped out of his jeans. Taking a rubber from a pile on the nearby counter, he covered himself. He moved back to her, standing before her. His cock was heavy and stiff between them. He caught her face in his hands, staring down into her eyes. It didn’t seem the time for words, so he bent and kissed her mouth.
 

He was too tall to take her comfortably where she stood. He had to crouch to enter her. If they were going to do this again, he’d have to build her a deck to stand on.
 

“Mads, release my feet.”

He groaned, frustrated at the delay, then reached over and released the straps around her ankles. She lifted a leg over his hip. He caught her up, lifting her as he pressed between her thighs, angling her for his entry. His cock notched at her opening. He pushed inside. As he felt the pressure from his apadravya, his lips peeled back from his teeth. He played his piercing just inside of her, knowing where it was rubbing her. He looked at her, saw that she was watching their bodies join. He rocked against her, going no deeper than the wide head of his penis. In and out.

She sucked a few shallow breaths. He could feel her entire body tense. Her legs tightened around his waist, forcing him deep inside as waves of passion rocked her body. He pressed her against the wall as he reached to release her hands. When she was free, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs. Orgasms were ripping through her, one cutting into the next. He took a few steps over to the futon, but had to stop and focus on fucking her, lifting and lowering her body over his cock. When his release broke free, her inner muscles were still throbbing over him.

He carried her over to the futon. Setting her on her feet, he ordered her to bend over. He pulled the rubber off and slipped on another one, then took her from behind. Once again, he used the metal balls of his piercing to work her and himself to a pitch. Thrusting into her, he bent over and grasped a breast, feeling it move in his hand as he pumped into her. His balls were slapping against her body. Her orgasm hit with the same violence as it had the first time. He gripped her hips, holding her through the fire, thrusting deep when it began to ease away, kicking it into gear again. His release seared through his cock like liquid fire.
 

When both of their bodies calmed down, he slowly, carefully withdrew from her. He crossed the room to discard the rubbers. She was gathering up her clothes when he turned back. “What are you doing?”

“I think I should head back,” she said, without looking at him.

“No. Our agreement was for an entire night.” He lifted the edge of the futon, drawing it down to its reclining position. He tossed pillows onto the flat bed from a stack he’d left on one of the side chairs.
 

He looked over at her. “Stay.” When she didn’t make a move, he reminded her, “We’re not done.” He picked up a handful of little packages and set them on the coffee table.

She dropped the top she was about to put on and crossed over to him. At the edge of the bed, she paused, glaring up at him. He lifted the sheet. He caught a hint of her scent as she climbed onto the bed. Sweet springtime and savory sex. The combo had his cock hardening up. He didn’t hide the effect she had on him as he followed her between the sheets.

She scooted over to the far edge. Max folded an arm behind his head. “Tired?” he asked.

“A little. I was full of nerves today, worried about tonight.”

He grinned. “Why?”

“They said you were into pain…”

Max scowled. He’d started that rumor himself. Seemed the best way to avoid most casual hookups. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

He lifted his arm and waved her over. “Then come over here.” The futon was small, and he took up half of it. When he wasn’t lying at an angle, his feet hung off the side, as they did now. While she wasn’t especially far away, he wanted her closer. Against his side. In his arms.
 

She scooted over, bending a knee over his thigh, leaning her cheek on his pec. Her hair was over her shoulder and spilled onto his chest. He reached down and touched it, fingering the dusky blond ropes. The soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his side. He stroked her bare back, from the curve of her hip to her shoulder.

It was time for some answers.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“You’ve heard my story before.”

“I’ve heard your story. I want the truth now.”

She tensed in his arms, then sat up. The worried look in her eyes was not part of her cover. In fact, she sucked at pretending. Whatever else she might be, she was not a seasoned operative.

“Let’s start with your real name.”

“It’s Hope. Hope Townsend.”

“Your brother’s Randall Townsend?”

She shook her head. “He would have been, had he not been taken away…had my mother not died.”

Max nodded. He folded both arms behind his head. “So let’s start there. At the beginning.”
 

Hope leaned against Mads’ side, her back to him as he curled around her. She didn’t know what to make of him. He’d kept his word while she was restrained, starting a round of sex unlike any she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t even count how many orgasms she’d had. When they were finished, she’d longed to linger, be near him. Talk. But it wasn’t the reaction she expected from a hardened biker like him. She’d thought to spare them both by simply leaving, only he’d wanted what she wanted.
 

The things he was asking her to divulge weren’t ones she could chat about—mostly because she didn’t know. She wanted to fold into a ball, hide from his penetrating gaze. She did not want to revisit that painful day. She understood it as an adult, but hadn’t been able to comprehend it as a child.

When her silence continued, Mads touched her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head. “There’s almost nothing I truly understand of that time.” She wrapped her hand around his heavy arm, holding him close. Her hand absently stroked the inside of his upper arm. Her fingers rippled over a patch of scars or three-dimensional tats. Long, wide ridges. Starting back at the top, she counted three of them.

He reached over and threaded his fingers with hers, pulling her hand from the marks. “Tell me what you remember.”

“I can tell you what I’ve learned. My mom was going into witness protection. She was an ex-member of the WKB. I don’t know what dirt she had on whom, but she died before she could testify. My father killed her. She was pregnant with Randall. My father took him that day and disappeared.” She looked at Mads. “My brother wasn’t born yet. The day my father killed my mom, he carved Randall from her body and disappeared.”

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