Page 90
Story: Penance
No.
No, FUCK NO.
I turn the knob and shove the door open. The door swings open violently, revealing Mercy’s sleeping form, and rebounds off the wall behind it. She’s curled up on her side, her hair splayed across the pillow like a dark puddle—like a puddle of blood. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a silver glow on her fair skin, making her look almost ethereal, otherworldly.
A pang of something unfamiliar hits me, but I shove it aside.
I step into the room, stalking towards the bed.
She’s still asleep, but I’m not surprised.
She was always such a sound sleeper.
I place one knee on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. Mercy stirs, her eyes fluttering open in sleepy confusion.I pause, waiting, watching. Her eyes open, fear flashing in their depths when she catches sight of me.
I must look like a demon. A fucking monster.
Good.
She gasps, her body tensing.
“Shh,” I hush her. “It’s okay.” I crawl over her, moving across the mattress until I’m overtop of her.
“Draco?” she breathes. She rolls onto her back so she can see me fully. “What are you—?”
Reaching up, I gather her wrists in my hands and pin them down to the bed. I don’t want her to move. I don’t want her to fight me.
I just need… this.
My lips crash down on hers, hard, devouring. She freezes, her body rigid against mine. I can taste her surprise, I can taste the gasp that she sucks in.
But I also taste her innocence.
I can taste my fucking future.
Goddamn it.
I pull back slightly, my teeth nipping at her lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she jumps. I see the struggle in her eyes, the battle between her morals and her desires.
She wants me, but she’s scared.
Who could blame her?
I carefully planned it to make sure it would end up just like this.
“Draco?” she whispers again.
I let her go, instead pressing my hands into the mattress on either side of her. Her hands come up to rest on my chest, not pushing me away but not pulling me closer either. Her touch is tentative, uncertain. It’s a stark contrast to the fire burningwithin me, the inferno of need and want that threatens to consume us both.
And I know she feels it too.
I know she does.
I know she wants me.
So why am I fuckin’ playing this game?
I lean in again, my lips brushing against hers again but softer, coaxing. I can feel her melting for me. Her lips fall apart and she kisses me back, hesitant yet curious. I bite back a growl. She doesn’t realize, but the way she kisses me is like a damn prayer.
No, FUCK NO.
I turn the knob and shove the door open. The door swings open violently, revealing Mercy’s sleeping form, and rebounds off the wall behind it. She’s curled up on her side, her hair splayed across the pillow like a dark puddle—like a puddle of blood. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a silver glow on her fair skin, making her look almost ethereal, otherworldly.
A pang of something unfamiliar hits me, but I shove it aside.
I step into the room, stalking towards the bed.
She’s still asleep, but I’m not surprised.
She was always such a sound sleeper.
I place one knee on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. Mercy stirs, her eyes fluttering open in sleepy confusion.I pause, waiting, watching. Her eyes open, fear flashing in their depths when she catches sight of me.
I must look like a demon. A fucking monster.
Good.
She gasps, her body tensing.
“Shh,” I hush her. “It’s okay.” I crawl over her, moving across the mattress until I’m overtop of her.
“Draco?” she breathes. She rolls onto her back so she can see me fully. “What are you—?”
Reaching up, I gather her wrists in my hands and pin them down to the bed. I don’t want her to move. I don’t want her to fight me.
I just need… this.
My lips crash down on hers, hard, devouring. She freezes, her body rigid against mine. I can taste her surprise, I can taste the gasp that she sucks in.
But I also taste her innocence.
I can taste my fucking future.
Goddamn it.
I pull back slightly, my teeth nipping at her lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she jumps. I see the struggle in her eyes, the battle between her morals and her desires.
She wants me, but she’s scared.
Who could blame her?
I carefully planned it to make sure it would end up just like this.
“Draco?” she whispers again.
I let her go, instead pressing my hands into the mattress on either side of her. Her hands come up to rest on my chest, not pushing me away but not pulling me closer either. Her touch is tentative, uncertain. It’s a stark contrast to the fire burningwithin me, the inferno of need and want that threatens to consume us both.
And I know she feels it too.
I know she does.
I know she wants me.
So why am I fuckin’ playing this game?
I lean in again, my lips brushing against hers again but softer, coaxing. I can feel her melting for me. Her lips fall apart and she kisses me back, hesitant yet curious. I bite back a growl. She doesn’t realize, but the way she kisses me is like a damn prayer.
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