Page 58 of Rolling 75 (The Noire Brothers #1)

“ Griffon . I’ll use it if I need to.” She waggles her eyebrows, slipping back into longtime-best-friend mode for a beat with a beaming grin and an enthusiastic commendation. “You really wear the Dom hat well, Ryker. Gives me chills.”

I can’t contain my chuckle, so I kiss her temple and tell her I’ll be back before I slip out the door and make a quick jaunt down the hall to grab what I need. It takes me less than two minutes. When I return, my eager girl is waiting just as I instructed.

Bare. Kneeling. Utterly breathtaking.

I set the item I retrieved on the dresser and stoop down in front of her, gliding my knuckles down her cheek and waiting for her cognac embers to latch on to mine. “You’re stunning, Merce. The sexiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Her pupils dilate with a coy grin. Praise definitely fuels her.

Releasing her, I rise, remove my jacket, and unclasp my cufflinks. “Sit back, spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, and bend your knees so I can see your pretty pussy.”

A heavy breath puffs out of her, but she obeys.

It’s the depiction of how far we’ve come since our first encounter, when she could hardly stand the sight of her reflection.

Now the mirror is right beside me, but she doesn’t avoid it or me.

She spreads herself open, chin held high with alluring poise.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Touch yourself.

” I unbutton my shirt, my eyes glued to the circling pattern of her fingers.

“Good, Mercy. Dip two inside.” Shrugging out of my shirt, I set it aside and start on my pants, the husky tenor of my command strung taut between us.

“Stretch yourself for me. I won’t be gentle. ”

She licks her lips and bats her lashes, flaunting her brazen, flirtatious side. “Yes, sir.”

The honorific is far less disarming than the wanton pout she’s parading, her fingers knuckle deep in her dripping cunt, or the sloshing sound of how desperate she is already.

My mind briefly flits to the worry of the danger lurking, the possibility of my life choices being the culprit for all the terror she’s endured. But I tuck it away for later, knowing that will be waiting when we’re done here. I won’t let anything rob me of this moment with her.

“I can see you glistening from here, so wet and ready for me.” Kicking off my shoes, I finish undressing and stroke my rock- hard, leaking dick, noticing how she’s instantly enthralled by the movement. “Do you want a taste, baby?”

Her gaze remains fixed on every flick of my wrist, so her wispy reply comes as no surprise. “Please.”

“There we go. Suck your fingers off.” I’m absolutely enamored as she complies, raising her arousal-coated hand to her mouth and hollowing out her cheeks. “Good girl. Now crawl to me and show me how desperate you are to swallow my cock.”

I would have insisted I didn’t need this.

That her submitting to me wasn’t something I craved or fantasized about.

Because all I ever wanted was Mercy, however I could have her.

The veracity of that statement holds, but as she positions herself on all fours and crawls across the floor, eyes lasered on mine, something ruptures inside my chest.

All the pent-up anguish and fears and insecurities splinter in her wake.

Mercy wouldn’t do this with anyone but me. She’s too feisty, too strong-willed. She only relents when she’s safe to let go. The proof is in every reverent plod forward, the seductive swish of her hips, the tantalizing sway of her tear-drop tits, the vulnerability brimming in her beautiful eyes.

It’s the most salacious scene I’ve ever witnessed, but, fuck, it’s also the most life-altering.

Despite the rubble we’ve had between us, we’ve built a fortress of trust one day, month, year at a time.

Celebrations and hardships. And as the world and resort, the agony and mistakes, all fracture around us, fading so nothing exists but my precious girl, it’s evident that the walls of our fortress are intact, that nothing can break us.

With my fist against my mouth, I husk out a choked, “Merce.”

It’s all I can manage, but I know she hears what I’m not saying.

Her glossy eyes tell me she’s harboring some of those same emotions.

Those forest-brown gems spill down her flushed cheeks as she stops at my feet, her hands resting gently on her thighs.

Her searing gaze traces her name scrawled above my leaking cock before it floats up to my face.

“I don’t just want a taste, Ryker. I want all of you.”

No words uttered could mean more than those. All of me. Even the parts that were once at war with who she was. Maybe I shouldn’t celebrate dragging her to the den of sin, but my soul is twisted enough that I consider this a win.

Fisting her hair, I paint my precum over her lips like a gloss of wicked promises. “I’m yours, Viper. Take it.”

She crawled to conquer, and she’s kneeling before me with all the goddamn power.

Without hesitation, she glides the warmth of her mouth over the whole of me, opening her throat to accommodate nearly every inch of my painfully hard dick, the sides compressing around the metal barbells.

And she bobs with a tenacious fucking drive, her ardent moans vibrating over my length to rocket through my balls and up my spine. Until I’m seeing stars.

Jesus Christ.

If that wasn’t enough, she pops off with resolute purpose, our gazes colliding with a lifetime of jagged beginnings and champagne toasts. And every fucking thing in between.

“You should know”—her tongue peeks out to lick at the precum still staining her lips, and her chest heaves, pert nipples tickling my legs—“I’m in love with you, hopelessly so, but I really need you to fuck me like you hate me.”

For a split second, the world stops spinning.

My lungs empty. My throat dries. My heart thumps an erratic tune.

This was a hope I never thought I’d hold, and I made peace with that.

Even as we’ve grown closer, I was afraid to voice the words, terrified she’d bolt.

If I let her declaration burrow into me, I might fall apart before we begin.

So, instead, I scoop her into my arms, bury my face in her cherry-scented hair, and give my fiancée what she wants.

“I love you more than anything in this life or the next, enough to hate-fuck you with every drop of vengeance in my veins.” I blow out an unsteady exhale, trying to regroup.

“My heart, my soul—everything I am is yours, Merce. It always has been. You’re my heaven, but if you need me to be, I can be your hell. Prepare to be ruined.”

She laughs at that, her fluttery breaths cascading over my molten skin as I pluck a few items out of the cabinet and toss her onto the bed.

And then I’m on her. Sucking her clit into my mouth, her flavor exploding on my taste buds as I tongue-fuck her in such a frenzy that she’s panting and writhing, breathless for more in a matter of seconds.

“Like fucking cake frosting,” I mutter as I pinch her wet clit between my thumb and index finger and place a clamp on it.

Her sharp intake of air cuts through the quietude with a whistle. “That’s … fuck … that’s good.”

I chuckle at her dazed expression. “Thought you’d like that, Viper. There’s nothing like a little bite for my girl. Nipples?”

She takes in the other clamps I’m holding up, and her doe eyes gleam with excitement. “Yes.”

I swirl my tongue over one, reveling in her delighted whimper, before adhering the clamp and repeating on the opposite breast.

She shudders a bit. I didn’t tighten them much, offering her the sensation without overwhelming pain. That might always be a struggle for me, but I’ll find a way, if that’s what she craves.

Flipping her over to her stomach, I unhinge the top half of the pillory so she can set her neck and wrists inside the holes, which have a plush inlay so they won’t cause abrasions on her skin.

This was one of the why-not items I placed in the room, not one I expected to use with her.

I’m glad I took the extra precautions for comfort, just in case. She’s always surprising me.

Before I have the chance to instruct her or verify that she’s still on board, she lines herself up. It puts her in a crawling position, completely immobilized, without her arms to bear weight. Once I fasten it down, I warm her up by feeding her my cock again.

And this fierce woman, locked on to the bed like a gift served up for me, nearly brings me to my goddamn knees, her tongue—so fucking sloppy and magical and wild.

I piston my hips in a few relentless pumps, greedy hums of encouragement surging from her throat to radiate all the way up my spine, her eyes watering from the force.

Pulling out, I grant myself a three-second reprieve to skulk around the bed and drink her in at every angle. She’s fucking phenomenal.

Her heavy tits, hanging with the jeweled clamps. Her arousal dripping down her inner thighs. Her plump ass, so round and on display. All of her shimmering in the dim amber light, a sheen of sweat and thirst and ardor glazing her skin.

A fucking goddess.

And mine.

“Wax. Please … I … I want the burn.”

Her request breaks through my reverie, so I swipe a massage candle off the dresser.

When I climb onto the mattress behind her, her hips wiggle in anticipation. My filthy girl wasn’t kidding all those years ago when she taunted me with her dirty fantasies. She’s eating up every ache and pinch and touch.

“I dismissed the plan for wax when you opted for the pillory, but I think we both know that I can’t deny you anything, can’t ignore your pleas.

You are magnificent. Needy, wet, and begging.

” Holding the candle far above her, I trickle it lightly over her luscious ass while thrusting three fingers into her wet opening, relishing the way she hisses and wriggles with each dribble and pump, silently pleading for more.