Page 71 of A Dance Macabre

“You’re soaking, my ruin,” I breathe harshly against her lips. “All of this, just from one kiss?” My erection pushes against the seam of my trousers, aching, and I press myself even harder into Mercy. “Or is it that even just the thought of me has you this wet?”

Mercy’s hands are now feverish, slipping under my suit jacket, her fingers tightening around my shirt. “Silly little wolf,” she says darkly, a jeering taunt curled around her words. “Who says I was thinking of you?”

I know better than to believe her. I know better than to allow her words to slice through me like the dagger strapped to her thigh. But just the simple thought of Mercy fantasizing about someone else has me letting out a low, menacing growl. I give her cunt a sharp, merciless slap. The shocked moan she pushes into my mouth tastes like the finest of wines. Like the sweetest of nectars.

Taking a step back, I forcibly flip her around, bending her just enough that her palms flatten against the window so she can uphold her footing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks harshly, her head turning to find my hard, but heated, glare from over her shoulder.

Unbuckling my belt, I chuckle arrogantly, my smile dark and menacing. “Surrendering to our gods.”

She could fight me—she certainly has before. Instead, she’s malleable under my touch, her legs widening as if daring me to continue. She can no longer fool me; her cold exterior is just anact. I’ve seen her true self,felther true self when we’re alone together, when my cock is sheathed deep inside of her.

Her eyes narrow. “I am not your fate, Vainglory.”

Unzipping my trousers, I pull my cock out, my thumb smoothing over the head before shoving her thong to the side. “Haven’t you heard, Crèvecoeur?” I chuckle darkly while dragging the tip against her wet slit. “You’ve always been mine.” I push inside of her, just enough for her cunt to wrap itself deliciously around the head of my cock. “And you’ll be mine even when your god has claimed us both.”

Snapping my hips forward, I bury my cock to the hilt. The eroticism of experiencing Mercy this way barrels through me, and I lean over her, my hand landing next to hers on the glass window pane. The curves of her body lock perfectly into place beneath mine.

I fuck her with a vengeance. I fuck her with all the hate I still have left for her. I fuck her like she’s been my birthright all along. Until there is nothing left but our gazes being reflected back at us. The city lights twinkling. The rain battering.

“Look at her,” I whisper raggedly into Mercy’s ear. “Behold her beauty, her depravity, her darkness.” My palm slips over Mercy's hand, our fingers interlocking in a heated grip against the window while my other hand digs into her hip. I might be speaking of the city of Pravitia, but my words resonate with everything Mercy embodies. “She is ours. We have laid claim to all of it, my ruin.”

“Ours …” she repeats, her breathy whimpers fogging the glass, her cunt fluttering around my throbbing shaft, and I know I have her. Her mask slips. The ice thaws as she moans a series ofyes, yes, yesas her ass pushes against me with every brutal thrust I give her.

“Touch yourself, Mercy,” I groan as I squeeze one of her breasts over her dress, the silk smooth, her nipple hard andpebbled under my touch. “I want you to make yourself come as the city watches.”

Surprisingly, she listens, moving her hand down her body. A wicked desire shivers down my spine at the thought of her following my orders. Unclasping my hand from hers, I straighten back up, gripping both my palms on either side of her hips. Her cuntsqueezesaround me, and it’s as if I can feel her arousal beside my own. Like two pieces of a whole. They beat to the same sinful cadence.

“I want my name on your lips when you come, Mercy,” I demand as I thrust myself deep inside of her again and again, every slide of my shaft into her cunt feeling like the very first fucking time. “Say my name when the pleasure overtakes you. Let me possess you. Let me be the reason your heart beats wildly in your chest.”

“No,” she spits, the word contradicting the aching desire dripping in her tone.

My jaw clenches, nostrils flaring. I slap her ass, the sting of my palm almost as satisfying as Mercy’s sharp moan.

I feel her orgasm build, her cunt choking my cock. I make my demand again. “Say it,” I growl.

I’m convinced she will deny me again. Instead, her forehead falls against the window, every muscle in her body contracting as she comes… my name on her lips.

“Wolfgang.”

I am possessed.

My thrusts turn desperate, erratic.

Her name becomes the only thing I want on my tongue.

I say it over and over again as I find her reflection in the window pane, blissful and mindless. My climax is violent, an ego death splintering me into a million little pieces as I come deep inside of Mercy, filling her full of my cum—filling her full of me.

Possessed.

40

MERCY

Wolfgang’s weight is still heavy against my back, my clammy palms sticking to the window. Breathless. I feel the slow glide, the wonderful ache of his cock sliding out of me. His release trickles down my thigh, my skin still humming with palpable desire.

He carefully tugs my dress down. Something about the tenderness of his fingers has my heart squeezing woefully. I linger on the feeling, my usual instinct to plunge it back into the depths of myself seemingly absent tonight.

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