Beg for Mercy Read online

  “So very fucking good,” he whispered, opening his mouth wide and sucking on her inner thigh with a deep groan, pulling with the same intensity that he stroked her core with.

  “Please, don’t stop, don’t stop!” She bowed off the bed and he pulled his fingers out and shoved them in his mouth. “Fucking pussy,” he moaned eating her off him with lusty grunts. “Fuck, I’m going to make you scream,” he gasped, grabbing her hips roughly and yanking that hot silk onto his open mouth.

  “Oh Jesus,” she strained, shuddering.

  Holding her ass in a brutal grip he sucked and nibbled all over, growling with her every shudder and tremble in his hands and under his mouth. He delivered chaotic flicks of his tongue on the tip of her clit until his name was a constant plea, and she was right at orgasm.

  He pulled away, his breaths quaking as he thrust his cock onto the bed, ready to fucking come, but even more ready to deny himself. But not her, though. Mercy needed to take whatever he wanted to give her.

  Chapter Two

  Mercy had gone from drunk to nearly sober in five minutes. God, she needed him. And it was as barbaric as it was pathetic. And yet it wasn’t just for her that she needed, it was for him. Seven days she’d been feeling his need and pain. She knew he was dealing with some dark issues. She wanted to help him process because she remembered things. A lot of things. She remembered the techniques her dad taught for overcoming her own abuse. And she wanted to show him how, but he never gave her one opening, not one. And a week of that hell turned her into somebody she’d never remembered being. Angry. Livid. Because she felt so useless and fucking helpless.

  And now, a half-starved man lay between her half-starved legs and all she could think was don’t stop. Her body had its own needs that had nothing to do with therapy. Fuck Sade. That was all the therapy she could think of, that was the only therapy there was, only therapy they really needed, she was sure.

  But it was his hunger that served as a very thin tether to her common sense. The fact that his needs were overwhelming, reminded her of what lurked inside. She could hear it in his voice, feel it in his body. He was on the verge of snapping and she didn’t know what might break free and take control of him. And God help them both, she couldn’t forget what was at the end of his rope—his demons. His insatiable, cruel demons. They wanted pain and suffering—for their host and anyone they could reach through him. Her in this case.

  All she had to remember in the throes of ecstasy was to not become his demon’s chew toy. He’d hate himself, and eventually resent her for allowing him.

  Not to mention, that darkness inside would gain more hold of him. There was no bottom to the stomachs of those kinds of monsters. You were only hungry, never satisfied. Always eating, never getting full, taking what you think you needed, only to find that the boundaries of your appetite had expanded. Again.

  But in that second, he was bent on her pleasure. God was he ever bent on her pleasure. It took everything she had not to let go of the bed and latch her fingers in his hair and grind his face onto her clit until she had that explosion he dangled just out of her reach.

  He thrust his tongue in her again and she bucked her hips, bringing her clit in perfect contact with his nose. So close. “Don’t stop, please Sade.” She wanted to scream and demand it, but he wanted her begging. She’d give him that much for now, because she’d damn well have her turn with him. He needed to learn how to suffer properly. At the command of her hands, her lips and tongue. And she couldn’t wait to force the issue.

  He gave a long groan and let her have it. His finger plunged deep and flicked hard and fast as she rotated between the jolts of pleasure and her bones melting from it. Before she could recover, he flipped her on her stomach and shoved her legs open with his knees.

  God, he was fast. His brutal hold gripped her with fear at what he might do. She fought to turn her upper body only to have his hand slam down between her shoulders, shoving her to the bed.

  “Don’t fight me,” he growled at her ear now.

  The vicious threat in his tone brought more panic. He was too desperate. “I won’t fight you,” she barely managed under his full weight. “Let me… hold on right.”

  He lifted just enough. Counting on reflex and sweaty bodies, she flipped over and won his forearm shoved in her neck. Thrashing under his body weight while staring up into his brutal face, she held her breath and yanked on his forearm. Jesus, fuck. She dug her claws in and he grit his teeth, adding more pressure on her windpipe.

  Panic fought against her training. He wouldn’t choke her out. She’d be no good for his game, then. She kept her gaze locked on his and sent out the order for her body to stop fighting. She finally let her eyes slowly close.

  Seconds passed, and she focused on the heat of his breath trembling on her face. He finally released the pressure on her neck but the weight of his body remained unforgiving, not allowing her any leverage. Except one.

  She snapped her head forward with all her might, bringing her forehead slamming into his face. He roared and instinct said to brace for sudden impact, but training said strike again. Another head snap forward and she shoved both hands under his forearm once again pushing into her neck.

  “Be still, Mercy. I need you!”

  She clenched her teeth, eyeing him while working enough of her hand under his arm to keep from being choked. Still unable to talk and barely able to breathe, she managed to get one of her legs between his. He growled and pushed his hips harder onto her. Blood dripped onto her mouth from his busted lip and fury made her spit in his face. He leaned down, maybe to kiss her, and again she snapped her head forward. This time he jerked back before she could hit him.

  “I’m getting off of you,” he growled between gasps. “Before I fucking kill you. God I want to hurt you so bad, I can taste it, I want to hurt you,” he rasped.

  Pain stole her breath at his words, not that he’d said them but that he was so imprisoned by them. Tears blurred her vision and he jumped off of her to pace next to the bed. Holding his head, he heaved in the silence then whispered,

  “I’m a fucking animal, I’m a fucking animal.”

  The bewildered sound in his broken voice gave her back some courage.

  “You’re not an animal.” She ended up coughing the words out, her neck throbbing still.

  He looked at her, still pacing as though he were barely hanging on. “I need you but you need to leave,” he gasped shaking his head. “I should be restrained, you need to leave, you need to tie me up. Oh my God, don’t fucking try to leave this room, Mercy.”

  She watched him pace, trapped in his own body. “I’m not leaving. And I’m not restraining you.”

  He paused and stared at her until her heart raced, and run instincts bit like a million ants at her muscles. Everything about him said he was ready to fight again. Make her.

  “If you try anything,” she gasped when he took his first lethal step toward her.

  “You’ll what? Fight me? What if I fucking want that!”

  “I mean it, this won’t end well, Sade. Stop.”

  “I haven’t even started,” he whispered, coming closer.

  Mercy walked in reverse until her legs hit the bed.

  “You want to fight?” he asked. “You want me to make you, is that it?” His tone had gone too controlled, his steps too sure as he gave a slow one-sided smile. “You like being made. Deep down, you like me to fucking make you take whatever I fucking give you.”

  Her privates tingled with the truth of his words but her heart hammered with fear at hearing the monster from his past force him to its will. He gradually advanced and she held a hand toward him while climbing on the bed. “I like you… in control of you.”

  When he got in lunging distance, she made her way off the other side. Her chest ached to know that when he was a young boy, he’d felt the same terror she did now. She knew that terror. But all the monsters in her life had been strangers. What was it like to have somebody who was supposed to lo
ve you, become your worst nightmare?

  The sadistic look on his face said her words hadn’t touched the sane part of him. “I like me in control too. Of you. You taking my cock however I want to give it, whenever, why-ever, for whatever.” He held both arms at his sides. “Right in this second, I want the head of my cock hitting the back of your throat, your teeth tearing at me,” he growled. “Then I want it buried in that tight. Fucking. Ass.”

  His words created a tug-of-war between desire and fear. She darted a gaze to the right, seeking a clear route of escape. God, she wanted him. But not while he was being played by that animal he hated. “You can have all that,” she whispered. “But not like this, I won’t let you.”

  “You won’t let me?” He stepped up on the bed now, his chest heaving. “You really think you have a choice, Baby?”

  The bedroom door leading out, pulled on every muscle. Run. Now. “I always have a choice, and so do you.”

  “I do yes. I choose to take it. It’s not like it isn’t mine to take. It’s not like you don’t belong—to me.” He slammed his hands on his chest, taking another step, making the bed creak loudly under his weight.

  “Let’s talk about it,” she gasped, fighting for casual while working her way to safety.

  “Talk…” He stepped one foot off the bed and stared at her. “About what?”

  “About us. How I can help you.”

  He stood poised there, one foot on the bed, gaze burning down her body. “I don’t think you can handle that while I fuck you.” His eyes rolled back up to hers and locked hard. “Soul meshing? When my cock is driving into your ass?”

  Oh Jesus. The thought of having his angry dick in her ass wasn’t something she’d let him do. Not quickly. But the sadistic tilt of his lips said he was two seconds away from losing any form of control she needed him to have in the matter.

  Self-defense measures began presenting themselves as she kept her reverse steps undetectable. She could scream. The fear of her father getting involved should wake his ass up. She could fight him too but there was no telling how that might end. God, she needed some distance between them. A lot.

  He stepped off the bed and terror sent her racing for the exit out of the nightmare. She jerked on the knob and his growl came with his naked body slamming into hers, shoving her into the door.

  Survival instincts engaged and she slithered right out of his hold and ran for the balcony doors, his feet pounding behind her. She was in flight mode and couldn’t even scream as she fought with the lock. Her head snapped back, his fingers biting into her hair as he held her to his body, one arm locked around her neck, the other across her front.

  She shot a hand behind her and grabbed his balls and squeezed. He growled in her ear, the arm at her neck, choking her.

  “Fucking do it,” he barely managed, agony and pleasure in the shaky words.

  Darkness slowly swam in her mind as he increased the pressure, maybe not even realizing he was. Kill and maim maneuvers rapidly flashed in her mind. She fought each one, refusing to lose hope in him. He’d catch himself. He’d… catch his… head. “I… love you.” The words barely made it out as she slowly released and went limp. He suddenly shoved her away from him and she hit the floor in a sprawl.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Mercy?” he gasped, sounding confused.

  She turned on the floor, coughing again, struggling to get enough air. “You’re not an animal,” she sputtered. “That’s not… who you are, Sade. You have to fight this.” He froze and just stared at her until she got nervous again. “You can fight it,” she pleaded, sitting up.

  He gasped several times then hurried to the far side of the room, and paced. “I fucking want to do things Mercy. I want your pleasure, but God, I want your fucking pain,” he seethed, sounding as terrified as he was hungry. “I don’t want to be this person, I fucking don’t!” he roared at her.

  Mercy climbed to her feet and made her way to him, carefully.

  “Get away from me.” He put his hands up and stepped back. “I can’t touch you right now, I can’t.”

  “I’m not leaving, I won’t. You’re going to stop,” she whispered calmly. “You’re going to sit on that bed, right fucking now, Sade. And you’re going to calm. The fuck. Down.”

  He stared at her, appearing bewildered. Like a scared little boy that was being made to do things he dreaded. And yet craved.

  Sensing a break in the fiery wall around his mind, she pointed to the bed and ordered the trembling command, “Sit. Down.” When he continued to only stare at her, seeming unable, she whispered, “You won’t win the fight with me, Sade. You’ll have to kill me. I won’t give in to your devils, do you hear me?” Tears filled her eyes and she gasped, “I… will fucking never give in to your devils, so you had better… sit down.”

  His body was suddenly heaving as his head shook and his face contorted with brutal emotions, none she could name. It was all like a dream, she was standing there watching him one moment, then he was on her the next, his mouth crushing hers, hand pulling brutally in her hair. Mercy grasped his shoulders to keep from falling when a sob tore out of him. He cupped her face now in a trembling carefulness, kissing as though salvation could be found in the worship of her mouth and tongue. “Fucking help me!” he gasped. “Please!” The desperate word wrenched from deep inside him, a lost man, horribly desperate to be free. “Don’t leave me, please don’t give up, I need you.”

  Mercy gasped when he enveloped her in a full body embrace. “I’m here,” she sobbed back, “I’m not leaving, I’m not leaving you.”

  “I don’t fucking want to go, I don’t want to go.” The terrified words trembled out between heaving breaths.

  She managed to stroke his head pressing in her shoulder. “Go where baby, where do you have to go?” she whispered, scared for him.

  “To that fucking place,” he choked. “That place, Mercy."

  “You don’t have to go, you don’t have to. I’m here, I’m here.”

  “I don’t want to go there, Mercy,” he gasped again. “I hate that place, I hate it so fucking bad.”

  “Then you’ll never go again, that’s all there is to it,” she cried hotly in his ear. “You’ll never ever have to go again baby, I won’t let you. I’m here, I have you. Do you understand me? You’re not going back there. You and me, we’re walking the fuck out of there.”

  She gripped him hard and a deep sob tore from him like he fought a thousand more ten times worse. “I don’t want to go,” he demanded before whispering over and over, “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to fucking go, I don’t want to hurt you, please don’t let me.”

  Chapter Three

  Sade made his way quietly downstairs, hoping to make it to the coffee pot and out the door without getting caught. He needed to breathe air not saturated with Mercy. Needed to think about what was happening with her and him. Mostly him. He didn’t remember ever feeling like he did now, the things he was dealing with were new. At least his old shit was familiar but this… this was different and he needed to figure what and why before he did something he’d eternally regret. As it was, he skirted disaster no matter which way he turned. He was in quicksand and any move he made sucked him a little bit further under. And when she was near him, his mind stepped into a blender set to puree. A look, a kiss, a smell from her—it all ate away the cement holding his mosaic life together, the broken pieces that had been glued together into a halfway usable something by which he existed if you could call it that. He knew one thing. She didn’t deserve this. Him and his sickness.

  Entering the kitchen, he nearly sighed in relief until his mother spun from the far end. “Gooood morning my precious baby,” she gasped, hurrying over with both arms open and a bright smile on her face.

  “Hey Mom,” he said, embracing her.

  "Oh my God, I can’t get used to hugging you, you’re so huge! I’ve been dying to have a cup of coffee with my son one of these fine mornings!” He smiled at how she hugged him, rockin
g side to side like they used to when he was small enough to stand on her feet. “I’ll make you some toast! Would you like me to make you some coffee milk with it?”

  The sheer hopefulness in her tone took care of that answer. “That would be great.”

  “Awwww, thank you for indulging me, baby.” She reached up and stroked a thumb along his cheek and ruffled his hair before spinning to the counter. “But if you want regular coffee, I won’t be offended you know. How do you take your coffee normally?”

  He grinned, glancing all around. “I take it black.” She gasped and looked over her shoulder. “Black! Of course you do, you’re such a strong man!” she bragged, making him grin and shake his head. “Don’t tell me you’re shy!”

  “Nah, just not used to all this attention.” More like not used to having a mom caring. Or just having a mom.

  She sucked in a breath, putting bread in the toaster. “I don’t know, that Mercy of ours seems to show you plenty, hmmm?”

  He gave a light shrug and pulled the island barstool out and straddled it, the mention of that making him feel like shit. “Yeah.”

  His mom suddenly stood across from him, forearms on the counter, leaning toward him with an inquisitive look. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked quietly, her tone soft.

  He shook his head, not meeting her all-knowing gaze.

  “Don’t bullshit me, young man,” she whispered firmer. “I may have missed a lot of years with you but I know when you’re fibbing. Now, talk to me,” she finished with a soft beg, “you know you can, look at me. Look at me.” Sade looked at her, hating how hard that was. It was close to looking in a mirror for him. “Who are you looking at?” she continued, opening both arms with a beautiful smile. “I’m your mother,” she hissed, sounding thrilled and amazed. “Now, come on. Fess up. Talk to me.”

  Sade regarded her secretive look and took a deep breath before glancing around for an escape.