mercy

Leon kicked the bedroom door shut behind them with the heel of his boot. The heavy wood slammed into the frame, cutting off the faint blue TV light and plunging the room into shadow. The only thing lighting the room was the pale silver moonlight bleeding through the window blinds.

He didn't stop walking until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He let gravity do the work, loosening his grip and letting her drop. Caslyn hit the quilt with a soft bounce, her legs immediately untangling from his waist as she sank into the pillows.

For a long moment, Leon just stood over her. He braced his hands on either side of her head, caging her in. He was breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling as he watched her. Her dark hair was a completely chaotic mess fanned out across the white sheets. Her eyes were blown wide and completely black in the low light. The arrogant, untouchable forensic analyst who ran the math on every scenario was entirely gone. In her place was a woman who looked exactly as wrecked, desperate, and hungry as he felt.

Caslyn wasn't going to wait for him to analyze the situation. The impatient, commanding streak in her flared right back to life. She reached up, grabbing the hem of his grey henley with white-knuckled force.

"Take this off," she demanded. Her voice was a rough, breathless whisper that commanded the room.

Leon gave her a slow, dark smirk. "Demanding, aren't we."

He didn't argue. He pulled back just enough to grip the back of his shirt, dragging it over his head and tossing it blindly into the corner. The cool air of the apartment hit his bare skin, but it didn't do a damn thing to cool his blood. His torso was a brutal map of the last week. Yellowing bruises from the village, jagged tactical scars from years in the mud, and the angry, inflamed puncture wound on his neck where she'd shoved the Plaga suppressant needle deep into his flesh.

Caslyn's eyes tracked every single inch of it. Her hands reached out, her cool fingertips trailing lightly over the heavy, painful bruising on his ribs. The touch was entirely reverent. Her brain was automatically cataloging the damage, mapping out exactly how close she'd come to losing him in that Spanish hellhole.

Leon wasn't going to let her slip back into the trauma of the mission. They were done surviving.

He dropped his weight back down, covering her completely. He pinned her hips down with his, pressing flush against her. The physical difference in their size was glaringly obvious now. The heavy, grounding weight of him effectively trapped her to the mattress, letting her feel exactly how outmatched she was.

"Stop analyzing, Cas," Leon rasped, his mouth hovering right over her jaw. His lips brushed the frantic pulse fluttering wildly beneath her skin. "I'm perfectly healthy."

He didn't give her a single second to respond to that. His hands slid under the hem of her black t-shirt, his broad, calloused palms dragging slowly up the bare, heated skin of her stomach. She gasped sharply at the contact, her back arching off the mattress to press into his touch.

Leon gripped the fabric of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one swift, efficient motion, tossing it onto the floor next to his.

The friction of bare skin on bare skin was a brutal, immediate shock to both of their systems. Caslyn let out a choked, needy sound. Her hands instantly flew to his back, her short nails digging into the heavy, tense muscles of his shoulders. She pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him with a messy, starving intensity that proved she'd been thinking about doing exactly this since they were locked in that subterranean crypt.

Leon kissed her back just as hard. The kiss tasted like gin, adrenaline, and pure inevitability. He shifted his grip, one hand sliding up to bury deep in her dark hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss until she was completely breathless. His other hand dragged down her side, mapping the soft curve of her waist before his fingers hooked possessively into the belt loops of her jeans.

He popped the button of her denim with a flick of his thumb, the sharp sound of the zipper dragging down cutting right through the quiet room. Caslyn shivered, her hips instinctively bucking up into his hand as he pushed the heavy fabric down her thighs. She kicked the jeans off the end of the bed, leaving her in practically nothing.

Leon shifted his weight, settling perfectly between her legs. He reached down, his fingers catching the buckle of his own belt. He unfastened it quickly, kicking his boots and jeans to the floor.

When he settled back over her, the contact was scorching. Every line of his body was pressed flawlessly against hers. He hooked her legs around his waist, pulling her hips flush against him so she could feel exactly how much she was affecting him. Caslyn let out a soft, shattered whine, her head falling back into the pillows, completely exposing her throat.

Leon took the invitation. He dragged his mouth down her jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive column of her neck. He scraped his teeth lightly over her collarbone, feeling her entire body shudder underneath him. He loved how responsive she was, how the brilliant, sarcastic analyst couldn't string a single coherent sentence together when he had his hands on her.

He slid his hands down her arms, tangling his fingers through hers and pinning her hands flat to the mattress above her head. He locked his gaze with hers. The arrogant smirk was entirely gone, replaced by something completely primal, possessive, and deeply loyal.

"Still running the math, rookie?" he murmured, his voice dark, thick, and vibrating right against her lips.

Caslyn stared up at him, her chest rising and falling heavily against his bare skin. She squeezed his fingers tight, her grip stubborn and completely unyielding.

"Shut the fuck up and finish what you started, Kennedy."

Leon let out a low, rough chuckle that rumbled right through her bones.

"Shut up, Leon," she whispered, but it wasn't a surrender. It was a goddamn order.

Caslyn didn't pull away. Instead, her hands slid from his shoulders down to his chest, and she shoved hard. Leon wasn't expecting it, his back hitting the armrest of the worn leather couch with a heavy squeak of the cushions. Before he could even brace himself, Caslyn moved. She swung a leg over his hips, straddling his lap and completely boxing him in.

She grabbed the collar of his grey henley in both fists, bunching the fabric tight, and yanked him up to meet her. The kiss was desperate, aggressive, and messy. She was actively trying to set the pace, biting at his lower lip, her hips pressing down into him to keep him pinned. The friction of her jeans against his was a deliberate, heavy distraction. It was the same stubborn, relentless energy she used in the field, converted into pure physical dominance. She wanted to be in charge. She wanted to prove she wasn't just spinning out of control and that the brilliant forensic analyst hadn't completely lost her damn mind.

Leon let her have it. For exactly ten seconds.

He let his hands rest loosely on her thighs, feeling the tension vibrating through her muscles. He leaned into her brutal kiss, letting a low, dark sound rumble in his chest. He loved the fire. He loved that even when she was completely short-circuited and breathing heavy, her first instinct was to fight him for the upper hand.

But there was a massive difference between a rookie with a lot of attitude and a Tier-One operator who spent his life physically overpowering things twice his size.

When Caslyn pulled back just an inch to catch her breath, her chest heaving against his and a triumphant little smirk starting to form on her swollen lips, Leon made his move.

"Nice try, Cas," Leon rasped, his voice rough and heavy with pure, unadulterated arrogance.

His hands clamped down on her hips. His grip was absolute iron. Caslyn let out a sharp gasp as he completely and effortlessly shifted his leverage. In one fluid, violent motion, the world flipped upside down.

He rolled, pinning her flat against the couch. Her back hit the leather, and suddenly his entire weight was pressing her down, trapping her completely. The triumphant smirk vanished from her face instantly, replaced by wide-eyed shock. She immediately tried to buck her hips, her hands flying up to push at his chest to regain her lost ground.

Leon didn't even flinch. He caught both of her wrists in one hand, pinning them firmly above her head against the armrest. He wasn't hurting her, but the lock was unbreakable. The message was crystal clear: You are not moving unless I let you.

"You talk a big game, Hale," Leon murmured, his face hovering mere inches from hers. He lowered his hips, pressing flush against her, making sure she felt exactly how badly she had lost this tactical struggle. "But I don't take orders off the clock."

Caslyn’s breath hitched wildly. She tugged at her pinned wrists once, realized it was completely useless against his grip, and just glared up at him. But the glare was melting fast. The stubborn fight was draining out of her, replaced by a heavy, consuming heat that made her pupils blow wide, turning her eyes dark.

"You're a bastard, Kennedy," she breathed out, her voice shaky and completely stripped of its forensic armor.

"Yeah, I know."

Leon released her wrists, but he didn't let her up. Instead, his hands slid down the curve of her waist to grip the backs of her thighs. He stood up in one smooth, powerful motion, pulling her right off the couch with him.

Caslyn let out a startled noise as gravity shifted. Her legs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist, locking at the ankles. Her arms instantly flew around his neck, her fingers burying into his damp hair to anchor herself to him.