Page 46 of Built for Mercy

“Maverick,” I breathed. “What the fuck?”

The grin he gave me was salacious and sadistic. “Get in the car, Sophie.”

“But—”

“Get. In.” His voice had taken on that commanding tone that settled low in my belly, turning me on even more. Suddenly I knew that depriving me of an orgasm was my punishment, and an effective one at that.

I flipped him off before dropping into the leather seat of his all-black Aston Martin. He closed the door and rounded the front, looking mouthwateringly hot.

“You said you weren’t cruel,” I grumbled as he put his seat belt on.

Maverick chuckled darkly and started the ignition, the engine purring to life and nearly sending me spiraling into oblivion. “I did say I was ruthless, though, and honestly, Sophie? You’ve driven me to the brink.”

I blinked as he pulled smoothly out of the tight space and sped off, too damn fast for a residential neighborhood.

“Cat got your tongue, Detective?”

“Nope, but I’d give you a ticket for speeding if you were in my jurisdiction.”

“That’s too bad. I’d expect worse, like cuffing me to the backseat.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Where you’re concerned, absolutely.” Then, as he pulled onto a main road, he floored it. I held on tight to the leather seat under my thighs.

“Jesus, Mav.”

“No, baby, not Jesus. Just you and me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“No,” I snarled, then snapped my mouth shut. “Wait. I’m sorry—”

“Back up to twenty. Actually, make that twenty-one for flipping me off.”

Shit.

Then his hand was sliding up my thigh. A single finger hooked under my already damp panties and pulled until they tore. I gasped. He wasted no time gathering my arousal on his fingertips before working my clit again. I grasped the center console with one hand and the side of the door with the other.

“So wet for me, aren’t you, baby?” he purred, and I blushed from my head all the way to my toes. “Such a good fucking girl. So responsive.” I moaned from his praise, wanting to please him. My lost orgasm rose from the dead, rushing toward me, making my toes curl and my pulse go haywire. Inexplicably, he pulled his hand away, licking one finger at a time.

Tears pricked my stupid eyes before I blinked them away, huffing as I threw myself back in the seat.

“I could eat you for a full meal every day. You taste so sweet. Do you know that?”

No response.

“Sophie,” Maverick said my name slowly. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t know that.”

He hummed, then returned his hand between my thighs. And around and around we went, me trying to ride his hand to completion and him not allowing me to get there. By the time we parked, I was flustered, overheated, andangry.

I chose to go with him andthiswas his punishment?

He claimed he wasn’t cruel but I disagreed. This was cruel. I would much rather suffer from being spanked twenty times than be deprived of an orgasm twenty times.