Oh. My. God. Heat washed over him and he arched backward, bucking up into her, groaning when she swiveled her hips, torturing him for sure. “Jesus.” He gasped for air, loving the sound of her satisfied chuckle. Tentative Mercy had left the building. This was powerful Mercy and he was going to trust that she knew her mind. “Yes. Okay. Whatever you want.”

She grazed her teeth up his jaw, closing them over his earlobe. “Smart man.”

“But . . .” He laughed breathlessly when she ripped the tie from his collar and tossed it to one side, going for the buttons on his shirt. “Wait. Just one more second.”

She stilled again, this time with an impatient sigh. “What?”

He took her chin, tilting her face so that he could see her eyes. “If you don’t like anything I do, or if you want me to stop for any reason, say ‘stop.’ I will. I promise. Tell me you understand.”

She nodded gravely. “I understand. I trust you. Are you finished now?”

“Yes.” His heart was beating so hard it almost hurt. She trusted him when no one would blame her for never trusting anyone ever again. It was a gift, and while Mercy wasn’t fragile, her trust was. He’d protect her trust, no matter the cost. “All finished. Well, with the PSA portion of our evening anyway. I hope the cardio portion is just beginning.” He had no problem ceding control. Not to Mercy. “Where do you want me?”

She grinned, sliding off his lap until she stood in front of him. But then her gaze dropped to his body and all levity fled. He sat sprawled before her, legs spread, shirt halfway open and, he was sure, eyes sex-glazed. For a horrible moment he thought she’d changed her mind, until she slowly dropped to her knees. Frozen in place but hoping like hell, he could only stare.

“Anywhere I can have you.” She finished unbuttoning his shirt, then freed the cuffs on his sleeves. And then she touched him. Really touched him, her hand gripping his cock through his pants.

He hissed, arching into her touch. “Mercy.”

“My name or a request?” she murmured.

“Either. Both.” His body twisted, trying to get satisfaction. “Please.”

She let him go, fumbling with the button of his pants. He moaned when she got it free and lowered his zipper, dipping her hand into his briefs to wrap her fingers around him.

“You like that?” she asked coyly.

“You know I do. Please, Mercy. Pick a place. Sofa or bed. I won’t make it much longer.”

“Oh, I think you will.” She worked him with long strokes, just as she had that morning. She’d quickly learned what he liked.

He strained, thrusting into her fist, then remembered something important. Feeling blindly in the interior pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his wallet and found the condom he’d stored there.

“Boy Scout,” Mercy teased, a husky, breathy sound.

He cursed when she twisted her fist around the head of his cock. “If you truly want to feel me inside you, you’ll stop right now, or it’ll be all over.”