Page 62 of Broken Mercy
“Holy shit!” The lock opens with the most satisfying thud I’ve ever heard in my life. “I did it!”
“You did,” he agrees, even though it was obviously all him. I whirl around, now encircled by his arms, and slam my mouth to his in a celebratory kiss.
Which is a mistake.
His taste floods me. His hands drop to my hips and a pulse rumbles between us. It’s the same feeling I always get when he’s this close. The feeling that ripped into me that day in the office when I first met him, the feeling I got later in my cousin’s house when I showed him the hatch, and now, here, in the house we share together.
It’s lust, but it’s more. There’s a nervous, fizzy, light-and-bubbly energy to it. I know he feels it too. His mouth opens and the happy peck turns into more. I can’t say who initiates, or maybe we go for it at the same time, but we’re making out.
The picks fall to the floor, forgotten in the excitement as my fingers curl in his hair.
“You know what I like?” I don’t know why I’m talking. He turns me, twists me until I’m pressed against the open door’s frame. Cool air blows across my lips as he nibbles at my throat.
“I have some guesses.”
“I like when you’re in bed with me.”
“That was one of them.”
“Not like that. You’re never there when I fall asleep. But sometimes, in the morning…”
“You want me with you more often?”
“Is that weird?”
“We’re married.”
“It’s fake though.”
“Temporary,” he agrees, mouth lingering at my collar bone. Another hand moves up my shirt, grazing over my breasts. I’m in a bra this time, though it’s thin and doesn’t offer much support. My nipples are stiff and he seems to like that.
“But still, when you’re there…” I trail off, and let out a soft whimper as he touches me. “I shouldn’t even say this.”
“Keep talking.”
“When you’re here, I feel safe.”
He pulls my shirt off. I moan as he unhooks my bra, cups my tits, and bends down to lick my nipples. He keeps movingdown, dropping to his knees before me, kissing down to my belly button. “More,” he whispers, greedily tugging off my sweats.
“I shouldn’t, right? You’re not safe, but when you’re here, I don’t know, I feel like…” I gasp, arching against his mouth as he kisses my pussy, my panties down around my ankle. “That feels good.”
“You feel like it feels good when I’m with you?”
“Definitely when you do that.” His tongue laps me up and down. “And that. Oh fuck.”
“More, baby.”
“I like… when your arms…” It’s very hard to think. His tongue moves up and down, licking and sucking, working my pussy as I try to form words. Was I using sentences? What was I trying to convey again? I can’t seem to make sense of my own brain, much less form coherent sounds.
He doesn’t seem to mind. His tongue does enough talking for both of us as he licks me, twirling around my clit, hungrily slurping and sucking.
“Baby,” he prompts, fingers gliding inside my aching core. “You were saying?”
“I was?” I look at him, heavy-lidded. “I had words?”
“Guess not anymore.” He kisses my pussy and stands, hand still on my swollen bud, teasing me as his mouth finds mine. My taste is salty and sweet, and I moan into him as he slides fingers deeper inside me, curling them. “My turn to talk then.”
He turns me, forces me against the wall, door still open. I’m aware a neighbor might see or hear, but I’m unable to stop what’s happening. I wouldn’t want to even if I could. He gripsmy hair roughly and I think he’s about to fuck me from behind but instead his hand finds my ass, spanking me with one quick, sharp crack.
