Craving His Command - A Doms Of Genesis Novella

by Jenna Jacob

  “What. The. Fuck?” she railed. “He kisses me till my damn toes curl, sets me on fire, and then runs out the goddamn door? Seriously? What kind of game is this asshat playing?”

  Bolting off the bed, Mercy paced. Desperate to make sense of Kellan’s kiss and abrupt exodus, she couldn’t. She was too focused on the hot, pulsating throb enveloping her body.

  “Argh!” she growled. “What the hell am I doing here?”

  Mercy flopped down on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

  The night had turned into a complete clusterfuck.

  She’d come to the club to spend time with the other subs, watch and learn from the various sessions, and hopefully get a hello from Kellan. While she’d enjoyed his kiss far more than a simple hello, him running out of the room like his ass was on fire completely baffled her.

  She looked at the door and heaved a disgruntled sigh. Though the idea of staying in Samantha’s room all night held a world of appeal, Mercy owed Lewis an apology. A shiver slithered through her. Having to be near the man again made her skin crawl. She’d rather spend the evening next to Kellan.

  Touching a finger to her lips once more, Mercy closed her eyes and replayed his potent kiss in her mind.

  “Dammit! Why did he leave?” she groused out loud. “We could have been sweating and writhing by now. I could have my legs wrapped around him while he fed his fat cock inside me…stretching me…filling me, until we both exploded in screaming ecstasy.”

  Mercy slammed her fist onto the mattress and stood. Pacing, she tried to work off her mix of anger and lust.

  “Oh, fuck this!”

  With a snarl, she opened the door and marched down the hall only to be met by several couples heading to their private rooms for BDSM fun. A pang of envy sliced her heart. When she stepped into the dungeon, the sights and sounds of subs finding their contentment only increased her surly mood.

  She quickly convinced herself that the night was a lost cause and decided to just go home. A hot bubble bath and a couple glasses of wine sounded far more appealing than waiting, wishing, and praying that Kellan would sweep her off her feet and bind her to a cross or spanking bench.

  Dammit!

  She was beyond pathetic.

  Mercy was well on her way to a full-blown pity party complete with cake, streamers, and helium-filled balloons. The only things missing were the jugglers and clowns.

  With her head down, avoiding the members’ eyes, she pushed past the velvet curtain only to run straight into Savannah and her two Masters, Nick and Dylan.

  Though Savannah had become a trusted friend—after she and her Masters along with Samantha’s Master, Max had rescued Mercy from Kerr’s club—the fact that Savannah had two Masters when Mercy couldn’t manage to entice a single one chafed.

  “You’re not leaving already, are you, Symoné?” Savannah frowned.

  “Yeah. I’m just…not feeling it tonight.”

  “May I have a few minutes to talk to Symoné, please?” Savannah shot her Masters a pleading glance.

  The two rugged Doms nodded in tandem.

  “We’ll meet you inside, kitten,” Dylan stated before he and Nick disappeared into the dungeon.

  Mercy followed Savannah to a quiet corner in the far lobby away from the members waiting to be checked in. At a small table surrounded by leather padded chairs, the two women sat down.

  A look of concern was stamped over Savannah’s face. “What’s going on?”

  “Like I said, I’m just not feeling it.” Mercy shrugged.

  “I’m not buying it. Spill, sister.”

  “Fine.” Mercy knew she was a terrible liar. “Lewis was all up in my shit again, only this time, I caved.”

  “You scened with him?” Savannah’s eyes widened.

  “No. I changed my mind.”

  Over the next several minutes, Mercy filled her friend in on all the gory details of the evening, ending with Justice’s earth-shattering kiss and beeline out the door. When she was done, Savannah sat back wearing a shit-eating grin.

  “Sir Justice likes you. But it sounds like he’s not sure what to do about it.”

  “That’s just it. He’s not going to do anything about it…ever!”

  “Give him some time to figure it out. I have a feeling he’ll come around.”

  Mercy shook her head. “No. I’ve done everything but strip off my clothes and do a damn pole dance. He’s not interested.”

  Then what was that sizzling kiss about?

  Mercy didn’t have a clue. She was too obsessed with the depressing aftermath.

  “Look, I’ve kept you from your Masters long enough. Enjoy your night. I’m going home.”

  Even before Savannah’s eyes drifted over Mercy’s shoulders, she knew Kellan was near. As usual, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a thrill shot up her spine. It was as if he’d hard-wired her body with a silent alarm system rigged to go off every time he drilled her with his dissecting stare. She found the sensation unnerving yet oddly comforting in ways she couldn’t unravel.

  “Don’t look now,” Savannah whispered. “But Mister Kiss and Run is standing by the podium behind you, watching you like a hawk. Come back inside the dungeon. You can sit with Masters and me.”

  Mercy gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. “Thanks, but it’s been a crazy, confusing, and ungodly stressful day. I should have just stayed home and snuggled up on the couch in my jammies.”

  “Oh, my god, that’s right. Today was the trial. What happened with Kerr?”

  “I lost. He’s free to trap and terrorize subs to his heart’s content.”

  “I’m sorry. Dammit. That truly sucks. If you need to talk or just hang out or anything…call me, okay? I’ll even help you try to sort things out with…” Savannah subtly lifted her chin toward Kellan.

  “There’s nothing to sort out there…but I’ll call. Maybe we can grab lunch again soon.”

  “Yes. Let’s do it.” Savannah nodded excitedly as she stood. After bending to give Mercy a hug, she hurried away.

  Trying to steady her nerves, Mercy stayed in her seat, staring at a blank wall for several long minutes. Kellan’s stare warmed her from the inside out. The clawing ache to feel his lips and hands on her again made her want to scream. Instead, she stood and darted a glance over her shoulder. Kellan was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his sturdy chest, and blue eyes searing her with a hungry stare. She zeroed in on his lips and her pulse tripled. Mercy wanted to climb his long, sinewy body, like King Kong did the Empire State Building, wrap her arms and legs around Kellan, and kiss him until all the chaos inside her calmed. Though the idea was tempting as hell, it wouldn’t cure her hopeless infatuation only convince him she was pathetic. No, attacking the man wouldn’t change her hopeless situation.

  Forcing a weak smile, Mercy sent him a slight nod, then set her sights on the front door. As she weaved her way through the members, Kellan’s stare raked her back, sending goose bumps to explode over her arms.

  When she stepped from the club, the cold night air pierced her flesh like needles. Mercy tucked her head and ran toward her car, digging the key from her pocket. From out of nowhere, she felt a hand grip her arm. Before she could process what was happening, she was being roughly spun around and found herself face-to-face with Kerr.

  Like a bomb, fear exploded inside her.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  Her indignant tone only made his lecherous smile widen.

  “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Kerr growled.

  He tightened his grip and yanked her toward him. Mercy felt something hard poking at her ribs. She looked down and saw the barrel of a gun pressed at her side.

  “My hands on you are the least of your worries. We have some business to settle, you and me.”

  Panic swelled like a tsunami. Mercy darted a terrified glance at the camera mounted over the door of the club. At that exact moment, Kellan stepped outside. When he saw Kerr gripping her arm,
fury engulfed his face.

  Mercy prayed Kellan could see the gun and wouldn’t try anything heroically stupid. Whatever Kerr had planned for her, she wanted to believe she could survive. But helplessly watching him kill the man she loved would rip her to shreds.

  Loved?

  Even in the face of such dire circumstances, Mercy almost laughed. It had taken an ugly act of violence for her to realize she’d fucked up and fallen in love with a man who didn’t want her.

  It was Murphy’s Law at its finest.

  “Symoné, I need you to come back inside with me. Now!” Kellan barked.

  “She’s not going to be able to accommodate your order this time, Judge,” Kerr stated flatly. He lifted the gun to Mercy’s head and grinned. “If you don’t turn around and walk away, I’ll splatter her brains all over the sidewalk. That’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”

  Numbed from the cold and fear, her body shook. A whimper leaked from her lips as she silently pleaded for Kellan to follow Kerr’s instructions. But before Kellan could move a muscle, the door to the club burst open. Mika and two muscle-bound DMs raced onto the sidewalk.

  “Drop the gun, Kerr. You can’t kill her now; you’ve got too many witnesses.” Kellan’s voice was as hard as steel and as arctic as ice. “Let her go!”

  In the distance, Mercy could hear sirens screaming. Tears slid down her cheeks. She was terrified the madman would kill her before help arrived.

  Kerr tensed. Only he wasn’t the Kerr she’d once known. This man was a monster. A fact confirmed by the wild look in his eyes. Frozen in fear, she watched as more members poured from the club. Their gasps and murmurs filled her with even more fear.

  “You heard the man,” Mika bellowed as he raised a gun of his own and quickly chambered a bullet. “Let her go, or I’ll blow your head off, Kerr. Hear those sirens? The cops are coming for you. Put the gun down, or be hauled off in a body bag. It’s up to you.”

  Fear flashed in Kerr’s eyes. His face contorted in hate and fury.

  “You’re not worth going to jail for, cunt,” he spat in a low demonic voice. “But don’t worry, Symoné…I’ll be back to drain the life out of you soon.”

  With a mighty shove, Kerr sent her sprawling to the pavement. The concrete chewed her shoulder and arm. Pain exploded inside her skull and lights flashed behind her eyes when her head bounced off the cement.

  A cacophony of footsteps—running away and racing toward her—pelted Mercy’s brain like sledgehammers.

  Kellan gathered her into his arms and cradled her to his chest.

  “I’ve got you, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered in a voice rife with anguish.

  Swaddled in the safety of his arms, she curled in, soaking up the heat of his body. She pressed her head against him as his whispered words rumbled deep in his chest.

  “Get her inside, Kell.” Mika’s voice shook with rage. Mercy blinked up at the club owner as he stood and turned, then bellowed, “Somebody find Brooks and get him out here, stat!”

  She knew Mika was only trying to help, but his yell crashed through her skull like a gong. Mercy closed her eyes and cringed.

  “You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?” Kellan whispered.

  Obviously he was trying to lighten the mood, but the worry in his eyes and the grimace stretched over his lips didn’t hold an ounce of humor.

  “No, Sir. I’m going to stay awake in hopes that you’ll kiss me again.”

  Kellan stood and lifted her off the ground. Mercy pressed a palm to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “I should spank your ass red for leaving the club alone. You scared twenty years off my life…twenty years I don’t have to spare,” he quietly scolded as he carried her inside.

  “Please…spank away,” she murmured for his ears only.

  “You’re an incorrigible little minx.”

  While her sassy plea lessened the fear marring his face, it didn’t completely erase his angst.

  “Where do you hurt, Symoné?” physician and Master Sam Brooks—who’d patched her up after her first altercation with Kerr—asked as he moved in alongside Kellan.

  “Everywhere,” Mercy groaned. “My head feels like it’s going to explode, and my elbow’s on fire. My hip and shoulder, too.”

  “Okay. Let me take a quick look at you. Justice, would you lay her down here on the carpet for a minute? We can move her to my private room if we need to.”

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Master Sam,” Mercy hissed as Kellan eased her to the floor. “Your girl’s going to think I’m trying to hit on you.”

  “I know better,” his submissive, Cindy, assured with a soft smile. She crouched next to her Master before placing several items on the ground out of Mercy’s sight. “Someone needs to put a hit out on Kerr and end our misery.”

  “Mika was ready to do that if Kerr would have pulled the trigger.”

  “But then we would have lost you.” Cindy frowned. “That’s not a trade any of us would ever make.”

  “No. No. No.” Savannah pushed through the crowd sobbing.

  “I’m okay,” Mercy assured, watching tears roll down her friend’s face. “There’s no blood this time. I’m good.”

  “I’m afraid there is, angel,” Kellan corrected.

  She glanced at Brooks, watching silently as he and Cindy pulled on white surgical gloves. It was then that Mercy realized Kellan was still supporting her neck. Streaks of blood were smeared over his white cotton shirt.

  “Is the blood coming from my shoulder or my elbow?” Mercy asked.

  “I’m going to sit you up. Let me know right away if you’re going to be sick,” Brooks instructed, ignoring her question.

  “Okay.” Mercy pinned Kellan with an anxious stare. “Where am I bleeding?”

  “From the back of your head, angel. Don’t worry. Sam will get you fixed up. He’s the best surgeon we’ve got.”

  “I’m the only surgeon you’ve got here,” Brooks chuckled.

  “That’s why you’re the best,” Mercy chimed in.

  “Damn right it is.” Brooks flashed her a wide grin before turning somber and focusing his attention on the back of her head.

  She could feel him carefully smoothing back sections of her hair.

  “No stiches, Doc. I’m not letting anyone shave my head,” Mercy protested.

  “If you need them, Sam will be shaving your head without any argument,” Kellan scolded.

  His unyielding tone filled her with a warm glow. If only he would take the initiative, Mercy was ready and willing to heed his every command.

  “Kerr did this to her?” Mellie, Savannah’s older sister, asked in a tone filled with shock.

  “Yes. He’s gone and lost his fuc…his damn mind,” Samantha bit out angrily. “Was he like this when you were his sub?”

  Mercy turned her head to see who the hell Sanna was talking to. When Mellie bit her lip and shook her head, Mercy blinked in utter shock.

  “You…you were with Kerr?”

  “Years ago,” Mellie explained. “When I lived in Kansas City. He was always an ass, but he wasn’t violent. What happened to him?”

  So it isn’t just me who’s noticed a change in him. Maybe he really is crazy now.

  While neither woman could explain his bizarre behavior, Mercy found comfort in the fact that his menacing actions weren’t all in her mind.

  Sam pressed something cold and stingy against her scalp. “This might burn a little.”

  “Ouch.” She dug her fingernails into Kellan’s arm. “A little? Try a lot.”

  “Necessary evil,” Sam mumbled. “I need to clean this up so I can take a better look.”

  “Easy with the claws, kitten, or you’ll soon have us both bleeding,” Kellan warned with a crooked grin.

  Mercy jerked her fingers away. “Sorry.”

  “I’m only kidding, angel.” He clasped his hand around her wrist and placed her fingers back on his
arm. “I can take it.”

  “That’s my line…when you spank me, Sir.”

  Her taunting remark wasn’t meant to entice him, not really. She was trying to tame the residual fear thrumming inside her. It wasn’t every day a madman pressed a gun to her head or made her realize that she’d fallen in love…like an idiot.

  A look of animalistic lust flared over Kellan’s face, erasing the lines of worry previously etched there. “Damn it, angel,” he muttered under his breath.

  Without warning, her stomach lurched and her mouth began to water. “Back up. Back up!”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  Kellan grabbed a towel from the floor, gathered the corners in a lose fist, and held the fabric under her chin. Mercy shot him a wide-eyed you’ve got to be shitting me expression as the contents of her dinner began roiling upward.

  “Here.” Savannah’s Master, Nick shoved a trashcan between Mercy’s legs.

  She clutched the lined bucket and proceeded to toss her cookies.

  “Sam?” Kellan’s voice was rife with uneasiness.

  “Time to take her to the ER just to be safe,” the doctor replied.

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Mercy moaned.

  “Too bad. You’re going and I’m driving you there.”

  Kellan’s uncompromising tone would have made her shiver if she weren’t blowing chow in a trashcan and her head wasn’t throbbing like a bitch.

  Mercy lifted her eyes and glanced around the people hovering around her as Brooks wrapped her head in gauze. Master Lewis had Maple—who was wearing a look of sorrow—clutched at his side.

  A tiny, satisfied smile crept over Mercy’s lips.

  “I’m sorry,” Maple mouthed. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Mercy whispered.

  “Yes, girl. You’re going to be just fine,” Brooks assured, unaware she’d been talking to Maple. “Once we reach the ER, we’ll get you something for the pain. Can you stand up?”

  Mercy nodded, then groaned as a new wave of pain reverberated in her brain.

  Before she’d even attempted to move, Kellan lifted her off the floor and back into his arms. Mercy rested her head on his chest, needing the reassurance and comfort he offered. When they reached the foyer, Mika was talking with three uniformed officers. Kellan tensed when the cops looked his way and did a double take. Clearly, they were surprised to see the Honorable Judge Kellan Graham inside a kink club.