Page 12 of Lust
Lust parted Mercy’s thighs and stared at the abode between them. “You have a beautiful flower and a prettier gemstone.” A smile made its way to Mercy, who could only laugh.
Seriously! Flowers! Gemstones? She had to be kidding, right? “Lady, it’s a fucking vagina.” Laughing so gaily was the balm Mercy needed to ease into her ridiculous situation.
“Do you prefer more direct words than my terminology?”
“Well, yeah, if you’re calling my pussy a damn flower with a gemstone in it.”
Mercy wondered if she had offended the spirit, but Lust’s visage glowed. “What did you call it? A pussy? Like a cat?”
“Never heard that before, huh?”
Lust ran the back of her hand along the front of Mercy’s mound, tingling everything in toe-curling ways. “Isn’t that a word for a feline?”
“Aren’t most women?”
Mercy ate her words when fingertips touched her clit. “Verily so,” Lust purred. Mercy cried out in pleasurable alarm when Lust’s fingers journeyed inside.
Just like fucking that. Who needed foreplay when a goddess was at the helm? Anything was possible!
Normally, Mercy did not appreciate being penetrated so early in lovemaking. Normally. Yet that was from thebefore times.Before Marissa. Before other women. Before this stunning deity stumbled into her guest bedroom and filled her with desire. Was that her, making it so easy to be penetrated? Was she so aroused that her body acquiesced to every finger filling her up inside? How many women could say they were taken by a goddess? A spirit? Lust itself? Mercy’s legs spread wider, and her throat convulsed in groans as Lust lowered her lips.
Mere mortals were not meant to take in a deity’s power like this. They were not meant to be filled with the very essence of something likelust.No, not like this. Not with a beautiful woman’s lips on their folds, tongue punching inside, imbuing them with passion and the lapping fires of ecstasy. Acolytes – even priests – once perished absorbing power such as this. Why hadn’t she perished?
No, Mercy was far from dead. She wasalive.
“Fuck!” She cursed the only word that expressed the pleasure bending her knees and writhing her face into an unrecognizable groan. The tongue and lips oflust itselfaroused her, diving between her folds, kissing her flesh, and licking her sweetest spots. Her clit swelled beneath the pressure of Lust’s heavy strokes and almost made her choke on the other curse words dancing in her throat.
“Doesn’t it feel good, Mercy?”Like Acedia, Lust was more than verbal. She was delightfully telepathic. How else could her words touch Mercy’s mind when her mouth was so otherwisebusy? “Don’t you feel your body waking up to the things you used to love?”Lust took one of Mercy’s breasts. Her touch was electric – the moment was elastic, springing up toward the ceiling before gravity pulled Mercy’s body back to the bed. Mercy could hardly control her urges. Her hand clamped upon her other breast and matched those erotic movements, head digging into the pillow as her back arched and her loins swelled with orgasm.
When Mercy came, the sensation consumed her.
The strange thing? Mercy had plenty of orgasms before, but this was far from normal. Mercy was used to reaching climax in an explosive moment, riding it out to depleting completion.Until my body can’t take it anymore.Not now. Oh, the pleasure was there, tearing through her skin and cracking her skull, those waves of ecstasy making her stronger than before. Yet it never waned. Every second that passed left hermorearoused than before. Did Lust breathe her essence into Mercy? Waking her up, up,upuntil she levitated off the bed and looked into the red light of lust and desire?
Mercy was a sinner. There was no doubt about it now.
Gasps escaped Mercy as she dropped her pelvis. Lust pulled away, lips glistening and eyes cloudy with arousal. A part of Mercy was sated, but only a small part. A miniscule part, really. She was now instilled with divine intervention, and a beautiful woman sat before her.
“Do you want me, Mercy?” Lust crawled across the bed, her long skirt rustling the quilt. “Do you want to take my body and do with it as you please?”
Mercy sat up, naked aside from the camisole supporting her breasts. Feral thoughts seeped into her brain as she gazed upon that cleavage plummeting into Lust’s bodice. The look Lust shot back at Mercy was likewise animalistic, as if she begged to be used to such pleasurable ends.
“I do.” Mercy didn’t recognize her own low voice. It belonged to the powerful poison of sin smoldering inside of her. “I want to make you beg for it.” Those perfect brows raised in curiosity. What would it be like to run her thumb along them, before pushing this strange woman down to the bed and hearing her scream in delight? “I want you to beg forme.”
One of the effervescent straps of Lust’s glittery dress fell off her shoulder. That curve of her body was enough to drive Mercy to feasting upon her like the wild animal still lurking within her.It never went anywhere, I guess. I thought it died. Instead, it was hibernating.Had it been dormant since before Marissa? Since the hard times began? Or was it waiting Mercy’s whole life to howl at the moon and welcome purpose back into her life?
“Then tame me, Mercy.” Lust could spend the rest of the evening prostrate on the bed, but Mercy wouldn’t touch her until she was convinced of their mutual divinity. “Tame the lust that simmers within us and use it to your own ends.”
No one, least of all a mortal, could deny that request.
Famished. That’s how Mercy felt, thought, and acted when presented with this otherworldly goddess begging her to be taken. Mercy descended upon her, kissing those full lips and taking long strands of hair into her hands. The lust made her do it. The lust made her pull down the spirit’s bodice and inhale her breasts as if they were ambrosia. Lust cried out with a high, wanting peal as Mercy gave in to her latent nymphomania. Yet she wanted more. Mercy was famished, and she wantedmore.
This woman’s body was ripe for plundering. Exploration. Those things Mercy coveted, as she claimed she would. Lust was a toy. A plaything that breathed her warmth and praised Mercy for her wanton strength. It was like every movement Mercy made was accommodated by Lust’s limbs. They moved wherever they were needed so the damned mortal could have her way with a divine being.
“Yes!” The melody sang across the room and straight into Mercy’s soul as she lifted those weightless red skirts.Good God, her thighs are so thick. And warm!It must have been a trick of malleable will, for there was no way Mercy wouldn’t have noticed them before. She had such a soft spot – no, anattraction –to thighs that made her want to drown in their depths. Lust must have known. That’s why they were here, now, ready for Mercy to devour and welcoming her hand to the wet abode they sheltered. Lust wore no undergarments. Why would she? This was her function. She was sent to Earth to fuck the life back into Mercy Devereux. She didn’t need underwear!
She was also wetter than Mercy anticipated, as if the nectar necessary to celebrate sex and other forms of carnal love flowed freely from Heaven.
Lust – the woman, and the embodiment of it – shrieked to the cosmos as Mercy became one with that shelter.
