Page 18 of Penance

Draco

I wake up before Mercy does—probably because my cock is fucking throbbing.

Thankfully, I’m turned away from her, so she can’t see or feel anything, but I can feel her pressed against me, the warmth of her backside pressed against mine.

Mine.

My fucking girl.

Especially after last night. She came for me. Came allover my fingers.

When I lift my hand to my nose, I can still smell her.

Fucking delicious.

I sit up in bed and look over at her, taking in the sight of her.

A halo of soft, chestnut waves frames her face and cascades across her pillow.

Her lips are parted slightly, a silent invitation.

Her beautiful eyes are closed, long dark lashes laying across the swell of her cheekbone.

It’s not very often I get to see them. Usually, they hide behind her glasses.

I could take her now, fuck her while she’s sleeping.

But no, that would be too easy.

I want her to beg for it.

I tear my eyes away from her and stand up, careful to move slowly so I don’t wake her up.

Each movement is calculated, precise.

I know exactly where to step to avoid the creaks in the floorboards.

As I make my way to the bathroom, I can’t help but think of the power I hold over her. She is light, purity, and I am the darkness that will consume her.

But she stays.

Does she stay because she needs me, or because she knows she belongs to me?

Either way, it doesn’t matter. I get what I want.

The bathroom door closes behind me with a soft click. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. There is a hunger in my gaze, like a lion staring at a zebra.

I’m so close to turning her into something I can mold.

All I have to do is shatter her, and she will belong to me.

You have to break the bones to set them, after all.

It won’t be long.

Soon she’ll beg for my cock, and then I’ll give her everything she wants. I just have to drive her to it.

Turning, I lean against the sink. The cold porcelain presses against my hips as I lean back, my hand driving into my sweatpants and wrapping around my cock. I stroke myself hard, remembering Mercy’s soft whimpers from the last night, the way her body arched towards me.

I could have fucked her right then and there.

I could have.

I could have owned her body, but it’s not enough.

I want her mind, and her soul, too.

I want to own her body, mind, and soul.

I stroke myself harder, my fingers rolling over the head and then back down, my palm slick with pre-cum.

I imagine her on her knees, those hazel eyes looking up at me, scared. My breath catches in my throat, and the muscle in my jaw ticks. I can feel the twitching in my spine, the way my balls tighten.

Fuck, I’m close already, and it’s all her fault.

That little whore has a stranglehold on me.

A sudden shrill ring screams through the apartment, slicing through the silence like a knife. My head snaps towards the door, irritation flaring in my chest.

Mercy’s phone.

I pause, listening as the ringing stops and her soft voice filters through the door.

“Hello?”

I can picture her sitting up in bed, the sheet pooling around her waist, her cheeks flushed.

“Yes, this is Mercy Clarke,” she says, her voice steadier now. I can hear the rustle of sheets as she moves, the creak of the bed as she stands. “Today? But I thought they scheduled it for next week.”

My hand pauses on the doorknob.

“Alright. No, that’s fine. I’ll be there.”

The call ends, and I can hear her footsteps echo down the hallway.

She’s coming to me.

I hear a soft tap on the bathroom door, and it sends a painful ache through my pelvis.

“Draco?”

Should I?

The predator in me craves the thought of an ambush, but the manipulator needs the precision of a well-laid trap. My eyes flick to the doorknob.

I bet she would look beautiful, down on her knees for me and painted in my cum.

Should I?

Before I know it, the decision is made for me.

In one swift motion, I tear open the door with a growl. Mercy jumps back, her phone clattering to the floor, eyes wide with shock. Her gaze locks onto mine, and then dips lower, and I see the moment she realizes when her eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Draco?”

She doesn’t move, frozen like a statue of innocence, her eyes staying locked on my cock.

Is she scared?

Curious?

I can see the battle raging within her. She wants to run, but she wants to stay.

What should she do?

I’ll tell her exactly what to do.

“On your knees, Mercy,” I say.

Her eyes dart up, meeting mine, and I can see that the fear has taken over.

Still, she does as I tell her, her fingers shaking as they slide down the doorjamb, and she sinks to her knees in front of me.

I watch her hands fall to her lap, to her thighs, digging into the bare skin beneath the long shirt she wears.

My shirt, because she’s mine.

I stroke myself again, my gaze locked onto her. She’s trembling, her body quaking as she looks up at me, her eyes darting between my dripping cock and my eyes.

What is she thinking?

Fuck, I wish I knew.

Is she repulsed, fascinated, terrified? I can see the questions swirling in her mind, the confusion. She doesn’t understand this dance of power and control.

But she will.

She’ll understand very soon.

“Look at me, Mercy,” I growl.

Her eyes snap up, meeting mine.

Her lips press into a thin line, her tongue lashing out to wet them, her chin trembling.

She might be confused, but her body betrays her. I can tell by the way she writhes, her spine straightening and then folding, her thighs shaking. She’s a mess of contradictions, and I’m enjoying every minute of it.

I continue my slow, deliberate strokes, my eyes never leaving her face. Her cheeks flush pink, a mix of embarrassment and desire.

She fuckin’ wants me.

She wants my cock.

I could give it to her, sure, but I won’t.

She has to beg for me. I have to know I’ve won.

She will. She’ll beg for my cock, and that’s when I’ll know I’ve broken her.

That’s when I’ll know I’ve become her god.

The thought sends a shockwave of pleasure through me, and I know I’m close.

“Open your mouth.”

Her eyes somehow widen even more, but she does what I tell her.

Her lips part slowly, her head tipped back, her hair falling down her back and reaching nearly to her hips. Her breath stutters and breaks, a small sound that only serves to push me closer to the edge. I hold her gaze, watching her eyes.

I fucking own her, now.

A year ago, she never would have even considered me like this.

Now, she does whatever I tell her.

“Fuck,” I whisper, stepping closer, stroking harder. I can hear the sounds of my fist sliding over my dick, the lewd, wet sounds that echo around us. “F-fuck, cumming.”

Then I explode, shoving my cock into her mouth and feeling her lips seal around it. A primal, guttural sound rips from my chest and rings around us, like a wolf claiming his mate.

Mine.

Fucking mine .

My climax is like bombs and gunshots, explosions and bright white lights flashing behind my eyes. I almost drop to my knees.

Almost.

I pull out of her mouth and stare down at her.

“Good girl,” I praise her, and I watch her shudder at my words. “Good fuckin’ girl, Mercy.”

My hand slides down her jaw, and then to her throat, and I wrap my fingers around her neck and squeeze, just a little. Just enough to warn her.

“Show me.”

She does, her mouth dropping open and her tongue sliding out, showing me the mess I left her with.

Good.

Now I’ll live inside her in more ways than the baby I gave her.

“Swallow it,” I say, pulling my hand away.

She does, gulping hard and then looking up at me again.

I watch her as she remains on her knees, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Her hands tremble as she reaches up to wipe her mouth, drawing the back of her hand across her lips.

Always the modest little lamb, she wants to make sure not to leave any evidence behind.

I should have painted her fucking face with it.

Maybe next time I will, and then I’ll take pictures.

Her hand drops from her mouth, clenching into a fist against the cold floor. She watches as I reach down and tuck myself away.

What is she thinking?

Fuck, I wish I knew.

Folding my arms, I lean against the bathroom door, watching her. I want her to scream, to cry and slap me, but she won’t.

No, not my Mercy.

I watch her come back into herself and she reaches down to the cold wood floor, grabbing her phone. She turns it over and then looks back up at me.

“I-I have… an ultrasound,” she stammers, her voice shaking. “M-my doctor called. They changed the appointment. I-it’s at 2 o’clock.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” I ask. I know there is a war raging inside her, and I know my calmness will only confuse her more.

Good.

She nods, her fingers tightening around the phone.

I take a step closer, towering over her.

“I’ll go with you.”

She blinks.

“Why?” she asks.

She’s confused, and I can hear it in her voice.

I shrug.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone,” I say, pinning her with my eyes. “And I’m not going to.”

I turn away, stepping past her and making my way down the hallway. My steps echo through the hallway, but I only make it a few feet before I hear her jump to her feet behind me.

“Draco?”

I don’t turn around. Instead, I keep my gaze fixed forward, my voice steady and cold.

“Yes?”

Silence stretches between us, taut and heavy. I can feel her struggle, her desperation.

“Never mind.”

It’s getting to her.

She threw herself at me, and I denied her, yet the very next morning I use her to cum.

I won’t fuck her, and she knows it.

Does she feel disgusting?

Unlovable?

I hope she does.

I hope she feels exactly like I did.