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Mercy (Redemption Reigns MC Book 4) Page 10


  She allowed her hands to grip into Tonka’s hair as his lips moved lower, his tongue tracing a line down her stomach. He stopped at her shorts, peering up at her as he popped the button that held them at her waist, his hands deliciously warm as he gripped her hips, and then the fabric. Pulling, she lifted so he could get them past her ass, and groaned as the coolness of the bedroom air hit her wet panties. His hands made quick work of those as well, tossing them off the side of the bed, and a breath hissed from between his teeth.

  “Jesus, Mercy, you’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, shifting down the bed, and burying his face in her wetness. His tongue darted out once, and again, before he drew a long line, tasting her. “Fucking perfect.”

  Mercy’s head fell back, her eyes closing as he traced lines across her core, lightly sucking on her clit. None of the other lovers she’d ever had went down on her - they’d never offered and she’d been too shy to ask them. I’ve seriously been missing out, she thought as pleasure radiated from her center.

  Color flashed across her vision as he flicked his tongue, knowing full well what he was doing. Tonka moved to bring a large hand up her thigh, his thumb reaching her core, and he toyed with her opening before inserting it inside her. His tongue never stopped moving and she arched upward to meet his hand, bliss spreading throughout her entire being.

  “Tonka,” she moaned, lost in a jumble of his tongue and fingers. He was toying with her, exploring, learning what made her gasp and what made her squirm. Her hands gripped the sheets of his bed, searching for purchase as her legs tightened against the assault on her most sensitive area. She could feel the build inside her, and just as she was about to let go, he’d stop, only to start again.

  “Please,” she begged, her back arching almost painfully against the mattress. Her fingers moved to tangle in his hair, an effort to keep him where he was, his face buried in her pussy. One of his hands moved to her stomach, effectively pinning her in place, his other hand busying itself with two fingers inside her. He set an almost punishing rhythm, but this time didn’t stop to tease her, and she exploded with a small scream.

  Before she could come down, he was there, his cock rock hard and inside her, his jeans magically disappearing. He moved slowly, her wetness accepting him as if he belonged, and his mouth moved to kiss her. Mercy could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, but didn’t care. His large body inside hers was what she wanted, and despite the orgasm he’d just forced from her, she couldn’t get close enough to him. Couldn’t move against him hard enough or fast enough.

  “God, you’re so fucking sexy, Mercedes,” the man groaned, pulling out slightly and pushing back in, hard, a throaty moan escaping from her throat. “I could eat that sweet pussy and fuck you forever. It’s like I was made to be inside you and I’m never going to want to leave, woman.”

  “Thank fuck,” she answered, meaning it. He was right, and if this was something she had to look forward to, she didn’t give a damn about the repercussions. “Now please, show some mercy. Fuck me, Tonka.”

  He kissed her again, hard, almost painfully before he moved slightly upright, his large arm hooking one of her legs and holding it up. The change in angle surprised Mercy, and she gasped as he pumped into her. His dick was bigger than she was used to, hitting the end of her, something she would’ve thought to be painful, but it wasn’t. It was heaven, and she was on a cloud with a fucking angel. His other arm hooked under her other leg, pulling it until she was bent below him, his pec muscles flexing as he held her in place. It was such a dominant move; he was taking her.

  The movement was almost too much, filling her too much, but as the thought passed through her mind, it disappeared just as quickly. All thought was lost as she exploded against him again, calling his name, her nails digging into his forearms where they still held her in place. His motions slowed again as she came down, and her eyes opened, finding his gaze blazing as he peered down at her. He pulled out and she groaned again, his hand moving to her hip and pushing, guiding her where he wanted.

  She obliged, adjusting onto her knees, his fingers grazing her ass. He kneaded one of her cheeks and lifted his hand before bringing it down in a slap that made fire erupt in her. Before she could beg him to be inside her once again, he was already there, groaning, his hands running a trail along her lower back, her ass, her thighs.

  On all fours, ass up, head down, she felt blissfully exposed to Tonka. And yet, she wasn’t self-conscious, quite the opposite. She relished in his soft sounds of delight as he moved, his groans of pleasure and his hands grasping at the skin he could. He touched her everywhere, light caresses that turned to hard kneading as his pace increased. The sound of her ass slapping his skin was loud in the room, her moans getting lost amongst the noise. It wasn’t long before she was close, so so close. Her leg muscles flexed, her hands gripping into the mattress, as his fingers tangled in her hair, arching her head back as he slammed into her.

  Gone was the thoughtful lover, and in its place, everything Mercy had expected from him. He was power, raw and unbridled, nothing but passion flowing from the man behind her. And, as she’d asked previously, he showed no mercy for her. Instead, his motions grew faster, harder, taking her. Claiming her. It was a punishing heaven, a blissful hell. He pummeled into her, and, unable to hold on any longer, she let go.

  “Fuck, Tonka,” she spat, shaking her head to free herself from his grasp and he released the hold he had on her hair. “I’m cumming.”

  “Thank Christ,” he breathed, his words a growl as he pumped, groaning before he pulled out. She felt his heat as it jetted onto her back, from her shoulders down to her ass. Mercy didn’t move away, even as the moans from Tonka slowed, his large body coming to rest on his fists at her sides. His chest met her back, the warmth of his skin mingling with the wetness she could feel dripping down to her stomach and to the bed. As their breathing slowed, Tonka rolled to the side, looping an arm around her middle and taking her with him, so they were spooning.

  “We’re making a mess of your sheets,” she told him absently, not really caring. She felt so safe in that moment and she wished she could bottle the feeling. There, in his bed, satiated from their tryst, she didn’t care about much. Mercy knew the real world would eventually implode on them, causing more problems than either of them could prepare for, but it wasn’t then. That could be dealt with later.

  “Fucking worth it,” he whispered, placing a kiss into her hair.

  I’m fucking melting. Her whole body was relaxed, and her eyes were heavy, but she didn’t want to sleep. It didn’t matter how little shut-eye she’d gotten before, she wanted more; not more sex, not just yet, though she’d be up for a second go-round whenever he was. No, she wanted more intimacy with him.

  “Absolutely,” she told him in response, turning in his hold to face him, her fingers moving to toy with the hair on his chest. “Tell me about you.”

  “I like peas, and my favorite color is purple.”

  Mercy rolled her eyes, playfully slapping his skin. “You know what I mean.”

  Tonka sighed and rolled to his back, his arm still around her. “What do you want to know?”

  Her thoughts went back to the mall, the shadows behind his eyes. And again, to before, when he told her she’d have to ask twice.

  “Why couldn’t I carry my bags? And why did I have to ask twice for some epic sex?”

  She’d tried to make her question light. But, judging by the darkness that passed his expression, it didn’t matter. It was clearly a touchy subject, and she almost regretted asking. Except she wanted to know Tonka. Know him, know him. And, the world wasn’t full of rainbows and unicorns — she knew that from experience.

  “Christ,” he swore softly, but made no motion to move. Instead his hand trailed to her hair, playing with the strands he could reach. Mercy laid still, her head on the crook of his arm, waiting for him to speak.

  “The world’s a dark place, Mercedes,” he told her, still using her full name and she igno
red it, keeping quiet. Instead she kissed his skin, and he let out another breath.

  “When I was seventeen,” he started, his hair still idly playing with her hair, “I met a girl. Nothing unusual. She was a bit older than me, in her twenties, but it didn’t bother me… or her for that matter. I’d grown up in a single-mother household, and I was used to being the man of the house because that’s how I was raised. I actually liked that she had some years on me — she knew more about the world and opened my eyes to a lot of things.

  “Anyway. Like with all relationships and shit, everything started out pretty tame. We’d go on dates, go to the movies, or out to eat. I’d cook at her house sometimes, and we’d talk. She never treated me like I was a teenager — I’m not really sure what she thought of me, but we were happy, so it didn’t matter. One weekend, we planned a getaway at a hotel on the outskirts of New Mexico. Again, I didn’t think much of it — it was a romantic getaway and I was excited to finally sleep with her. I’d been with girls before, but they were just that, in my eyes. Girls. Ava was a woman, with all the curves and sexual knowledge I craved at that age.

  “We drove her car out there, used her credit card, and got this giant-ass hotel room. The minute we closed the door, she was on me, kissing me, undressing me, the works. We fucked everywhere: the bed, the floor, the window seat, pretty much every surface of the room.”

  Mercy stifled a squirm, not liking the mental picture he was painting in her head. She blinked several times, trying to clear the red she was seeing at the thought of Tonka’s hands on another woman, his mouth caressing another woman’s body. It was silly — she knew he wasn’t a virgin, but hearing it raised her hackles. Mine. She shook her head against the thought and Tonka leaned down, kissing the top of her head.

  “It was a long time ago,” he whispered and she nodded, hoping it was encouragingly. “So there we were, butt-ass fucking naked, when there was a knock on the door. I, in my youth, assumed it was room service or something. And, with all the confidence of a seventeen-year-old, opened the door with a towel around my waist.”

  “It wasn’t room service, I take it,” Mercy murmured and Tonka shook his head.

  “No. It was Ava’s husband.”

  “Shit.”

  “Accurate. And more, because I was who I was, already involved in the club, though not a member just yet, I never travelled without being armed. So when he stormed in the room, angry as fuck to find me naked with his equally naked wife, things didn’t go well.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “No, you can’t,” Tonka told her, gritting his teeth. “Ava crumbled under the pressure of her husband glaring at her, ranting up a storm. He called me every name he could think of, and grabbed Ava’s arm, yanking her out of the bed. So I pulled my piece.”

  Mercy glanced up at his face, his eyes closing and the lines on his forehead deepening. Her fingers toyed with his chest hair, and she held her breath, knowing this wasn’t going to be a happy ending of a story.

  “So Richard,” he said wryly, “yes, dear old Dick, pulls back on me. But I’d drawn to protect Ava, thinking I was doing what I was supposed to — I was fucking seventeen, what did I know? But Ava… that bitch, she couldn’t handle the whole thing. I don’t know if she was afraid of Richard, or me, or both of us at that point, but she lied. She told her husband I’d kidnapped her, forced her to drive us to the hotel, and took advantage of her. She told him I raped her multiple times and told her I’d kill her if she didn’t do what I told her.

  “At first, I thought she was kidding. I remember I even laughed a little about it, thinking there was no way she was saying what I’d heard, or that he’d believe her.”

  “But he did?” Mercy knew the answer to her question. She knew the other man had believed his cheating wife. And, more than likely, Tonka had been just as tall then as he was now, which meant that the other man had more than likely believed the woman with ease. If he’d been some scrawny, snot nosed teenager, it would’ve been much harder to believe. A giant, 6’6 young man with a gun? Yeah.

  “He did,” Tonka said, nodding slightly. “He believed her. Didn’t seem to fucking matter that we’d driven her car, or that the room was in her name. It didn’t matter that she was the one who booked the trip or that I was practically a fucking child. Nope, didn’t matter.

  “Richard all but threw Ava to the side, and I watched her hit the floor. I wanted to catch her, keep her from hurting herself. Women weren’t made to be thrown around, tossed aside, man handled. But I didn’t. I let her fall, and just stared as she scrambled for a blanket to cover herself. Meanwhile her husband was raging even harder, shoving his own gun at my bare chest, and threatening to use it. He threatened every threat in the history of the threat book. He told me he was going to call the fucking cops, get me thrown away forever. He told me he was going to cut off my cock and feed it to me, before calling the cops. He told me he was going to make me suffer before he killed me.”

  Tonka took a deep breath, his free hand moving to rub across his face, as if the motion would wipe away the memory picture he was painting. His other hand was still clutched in Mercy’s hair, his fingers tangling through the strands but not pulling.

  “He clicked the safety off, showing me, like he was some big fucking man. But… when he straightened, pointing the fucking pansy-ass .380, a bitch pistol, at my face, I let two fly. Point-blank range, to the forehead. It’s funny the way his blood painted the wall, painted me and the ceiling, Ava.”

  “What happened then?” The pain he felt regarding getting accused of kidnapping, rape, was a stark contrast to that of taking the motherfucker out who’d been about to take his own life. His tone had changed drastically, from haunted to empty; she didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t lose sleep over taking that asshole herself. And a part of her was disappointed he was already dead… if he wasn’t she’d slug him herself.

  “Ava cried, went slightly batshit over having dear old husband’s brain matter on her. Owner of the hotel showed up, freaked out. It was a fucking side show, freak show, honestly. The cops came, and I was put in cuffs and thrown in the back of a car, until they got the story. It was hard for anyone to say I hadn’t killed the guy in self-defense — he was still holding his bitch pistol, just with his brain seeping out of his skull.

  “I’d thought for a second that Ava would repeat her lies to the good men in blue, but she didn’t. She told them the truth, and after a quick check with the hotel cameras, they let me go. The hardest part of the whole fucking thing was my mom had to come up and get me.”

  “Where’s your mom now?”

  Tonka smiled, his eyes regaining a small bit of the sparkle they usually held. “Oh she’s —“

  A knock sounded at his door, startling the hell out of Mercy and cutting off Tonka’s words. The noise wasn’t coming from the living area, though. It was on the bedroom door, close to where they lay. None of the brothers would have invaded his personal space, at least without calling or beating on the other door first. That thought had her springing out of bed in a tumble, searching for her nine… which was currently on the couch. Great. With her clothes. Double great.

  “Boone Hawkins, open this damn door,” a southern, feminine voice sounded. “I see women’s clothes out here, boy, so don’t make me use this key.”

  A loud sigh, followed by the deep rumble of a chuckle, came Tonka’s answer. Mercy’s gaze shot to him, bewilderment and confusion more than obvious on her face.

  “It appears, my dear Stang, that my mom is here.”

  12

  Chapter Twelve

  “Boy, don’t make me tell you again. I have a key and I’m not afraid to use it… or to see your wiener. You came from me, after all,” the woman he’d named his mother called.

  Tonka merely shook his head and stood, making his way to his closet along the opposite wall. “Momma, hold your ponies. You may have seen my wiener, but Mercy only just saw it, and I’d prefer she keep the image she already has in her head, r
ather than me naked in front of you.”

  A gentle laugh came from the other side of the door. “There are worse things, Boone. I heard she’s pretty, is she pretty? What is she like? I heard she’s Mercedes Sheridan, the Princess of SL, but that doesn’t seem to fit with being in your bed ‘cause I know I done raised you right.”

  “Mom, she’s standing here, and can hear you, you know.”

  “Well then open the damn door so I can ask her myself.”

  “Working on it,” he called, passing a pair of basketball shorts to Mercy, and throwing a T-shirt on the bed. “Seeing as she didn’t come from you, I’m sure she’d rather meet you with her clothes on.”

  “Thank you for that,” Mercy murmured softly, scrambling to slip the clothes on he’d given her. It was one thing to meet a parent, and even more to meet them naked. Granted, she wasn’t sure she actually even wanted to meet the woman, seeing as she’d only known her son maybe a little more than twenty-four hours… and slept with him twice. They’d only fucked once, but seeing her covered in Tonka’s cum, she doubted the woman would believe that. More, watching the man in question throwing clothes over his perfect body, and knowing he hadn’t bothered with a pair of boxers, made her only want him again, anyway.

  Stop it. You cannot be thinking about having sex in front of his mother.

  Shit.

  Now that the thoughts had started, she couldn’t stop. Images flashed of his head buried between her legs, him atop her, him behind her. Mercy closed her eyes tightly, hoping it would make them go away, but that didn’t work either.

  “Shit.”

  “It’s fine, Stang. She’s great, you’ll love her,” Tonka told her, more than likely assuming her cursing was a side effect of the entire situation. It was probably for the best; he didn’t need to know she was thinking about his cock moving inside her. Hell, she didn’t need to know it either.