Page 35 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Keeper

S he’s so fucking beautiful when she’s afraid. Fear rolls off her in waves right now, almost as strongly as her desire.

Both of them have me hard for her.

It worked. The days of stepping back, keeping our contact minimal, had made her realize she wanted me.

Those eyes of hers, fuck . Her panic is turning me feral like a wild animal. A wolf with a scared little rabbit in its claws.

“What?” she says, as if she hadn’t heard what I’d said to her.

I grab her hair and push down, my other hand pressing on her shoulder, and to my surprise she doesn’t resist as I push her to her knees.

If her fear hadn’t already turned me on, this sight of her, kneeling before me, all wide eyes and wet skin would have gotten the job done.

I groan, watching as she takes in the sight of my cock.

Her inexperience shines through even though she’s trying so hard to shed that persona a little more everyday.

Something about her wanting to prove she’s not the angel her husband claims she is turns me on.

Makes me want to press her face into the drain and fuck her with her ass in the air.

I wind my fingers into her wet hair, first pulling back so that her eyes are aimed directly up at me. She squirms on her heels, waiting for me to give her some kind of direction.

I fucking knew she would be so eager to please me once I got under her skin .

“Is this what you wanted when you came in here and started playing with yourself? To be on your knees for me to use however I want?” I ask, my thumb brushing along her temple gently, and she leans into my palm in the most endearing way, nodding as her cheeks flush.

They do that a lot; blushing constantly.

I can guarantee nobody’s ever spoken to her like this in her life.

I’d also be willing to bet she’s never been set on her knees by a man, based on her reaction and everything I know about her.

The thought of teaching her how to please me is making me crazy.

The fact that she wants to do it for me.

“Beautiful girl,” I murmur, placing myself between her and the water breaking against my shoulders so she doesn’t drown. “Open your mouth.”

She drops it open, eyeing me still and I slide my thumb in, resting it on her tongue. “Tongue out,” I say, and she follows my direction. Goddammit, reality is so much better than my imagination. “You’ve done this before, right?”

She hesitates, then nods, and I wonder what version of this she’s thinking of. It’s not a soft blowjob I’m looking for. I want to face fuck her against the shower wall until she‘s gagging on me, and I doubt that’s what she means.

We’ll build up to it. I’m not interested in traumatizing her.

My grip tightens in her hair. “I want you to do exactly what I say. Take a deep breath.”

For the first time, she doesn’t flinch when I use the nickname and does what I ask. I see her chest rise and fall, and her hands fold in her lap, squeezing together anxiously.

Clutching her hair to hold her in place, I slide myself into her mouth, the friction of her tongue like heaven under my cock.

“Good girl ,” I rasp, pulling out halfway and then pushing back in. She doesn’t wrap her lips around me, lick me, nothing. She’s doing exactly what I told her to do, like such a perfect little doll. Waiting for direction. Permission .

I slide in a little further this time, seeing her throat start to work at the intrusion I’m making in her mouth. “Close your mouth now and try to relax,” I say, and thrust in further than before.

I coach her gently for the next minute until she looks comfortable, and she listens eagerly, licking and sucking when and where I instruct her to. Good. Now it’s time to turn things up.

“Against the wall, on your knees just as you are now,” I direct, my voice losing some of its softness.

Her eyes study me for the change, but she does as I ask and I press her against the wall with my hands, gripping her hair with a fist and running my thumb across her lips with the other.

“Look at me. If this is too much, tap my leg and I’ll stop, okay? ”

Nervous eyes meet mine, but she nods. “Okay.”

“Open up for me, Emma.”

When she does, I thrust myself inside her, further than before.

She gags, her eyes squeezing shut as her throat fights against the intrusion, and I pull out just slightly to let her adjust. Her watery eyes meet mine again and the caramel color has never looked more beautiful than when they shine with tears that I’m causing.

“Ready?” I ask, and she nods, grasping her knees tightly. She’s eager, and I love it. placing both of my hands on the back of her head, I thrust in farther, as far as I can before her throat chokes me, keeping me from pushing any further. “Relax, Emma, you have to relax your throat.”

She’s shifting and adjusting, tears streaming down her cheeks as I roughly fuck her mouth, making a mess of her face just like I have in dozens of my daydreams. Never could I have pictured her looking sweeter than she does now.

“Touch yourself,” I say, voice rough with the tension of trying not to actually fucking hurt her. “I want to see you do it.”

She spreads her knees, sliding her hand down to her clit and gently circling it, her movements light and unsure. Despite the fact that she’s currently gagging on my cock, she seems shy to do this with me watching.

“Don’t get coy now, pretty girl. We both know you were doing this on camera because you hoped I was watching. Now give me the show I was fucking promised,” I say, tugging her hair back so that her mouth pops off of me.

Her chest heaves as she catches her breath. “I’m not used to this. I don’t usually get—I mean I can’t usually make myself…you know what I mean,” she finishes, flustered. “It doesn’t feel like how you did it.”

I process this for a moment, then reach down and pull her up to standing and slam us against the shower wall. She gasps sharply, the cold tile surely uncomfortable, and I press my body to hers, my hardness evident.

“You need me to get you off?” I flex my hips against hers and look down at her panting mouth, taking in the full sight of her blown eyes as she watches mine eagerly.

“Nobody but me has made you come the way you did the other day?” I ask, brushing my mouth against hers, causing it to open slightly.

I lower my hand to her pussy and press my thumb to her clit, her head falling back to hit the wall.

A loud moan leaves her and I push two fingers inside.

“I know exactly what you need,” I growl in her ear, pumping into her, brushing against the sensitive spot that has her body tightening over and over. “Tell me how much you want to come for me.”

Her eyes flutter, falling in time with the pleasure rolling through her body, and she licks her lips but doesn’t say a word.

“Let me hear it, Emma. Use your words.”

She whines when my thumb circles her clit rougher, my fingers fucking her quicker.

It’s a needy sound that goes right through me.

I need her mouth back on my cock, so I amp up my touch.

Leaning down I suck her nipple into my mouth, massaging it with the pad of my tongue as she grinds against my hand.

“Last chance before I drop you to the floor. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Her whine peeks and her eyes wrench open, desperation taking over her face. “Please, Noah.”

I bite her nipple and growl against it, “Not good enough.”

When my hand stops its movement her head falls forward, her voice cracking as she cries out. “Please, Noah, I need the way you make me feel. Please . ”

I fall addicted to those words as soon as they enter the space around us and I know I’ll need her begging me sweetly for pleasure until I die. I groan, “Fuck, you sweet little thing, I love hearing you say my name like that.”

I pick up my pace, sucking her nipple, my teeth biting her shoulder and trailing right back up to her mouth, where I steal a dominating kiss. I force her submission to it, not allowing her to break the surface.

I want her to drown in the things I’m making her feel.

“Noah, Noah , oh my god —” she cries out into my mouth, and I swallow the words, keeping my pace with her as she comes.

“Oh, angel, I had a feeling you weren’t as innocent as you looked.

Your pussy feels like it’s already becoming a little slut for me,” I smile at her as the final tremors break through her, her face turning red predictably.

“It’s clenching the life out of my fingers,” I say, pulling them free.

I grip the back of her head and pull back so she’s forced to look straight up at my face with her watery eyes. “Open up.”

She parts her lips a tiny bit, looking confused and I shove my fingers inside her mouth, watching her gag as she chokes on her own arousal. “Perfect, Emma. You look so beautiful when you cry for me.”

The second she seems to gather herself and adjusts to my hand shoved into her mouth, I pull it free and force her back to her knees with my grip on her hair.

She lands on them and peeks up at me, chest heaving.

“We had a deal,” I say, and shove myself past her lips.

Her cry rumbles through me, vibrating up my cock and I wind a second hand into her hair, holding it in place.

Restraint doesn’t come easy. I don’t want to hurt her, but I do want her to experience that loss of control, to feel owned by me and to sink into that feeling. To appreciate how it can feel to let me use her. To degrade her.

I start to fuck her mouth, quickly ramping up my speed so that I’m taking her roughly.

I look down, watching as the tears roll, as saliva spills from her lips, as her hands fly to my hips to try and control my thrusts.

I brush them away, gathering them both in my hand and pulling them above her head, pinning them to the wall.

“Fist your hands if you want me to stop, okay? I promise I will.”

She nods after a moment. “Good. Now keep your eyes on me. I want to see your beautiful face when it’s messy like this.”

Her eyes peer up at me, brows turned up in the middle as her wrists flex beneath mine.

This hadn’t been in the plan. I had no intention of taking it this far today but this little trouble maker had other plans.

Had instigated me. And when she’s a brat, she’ll get her mouth fucked back into submission.

That’s what she had wanted. She hadn’t gotten the attention she thought she deserved from me, so she’d provoked this side of me on purpose.

She doesn’t tap out. She looks up at me obediently as I use her, and the sight is catapulting me toward the edge. When she tentatively tries to lick me as I fuck into her mouth, I lose control.

“Fuck,” I groan as I shove as far into her mouth as I can, and release, holding her in place until I’m spent. When I pull out she gasps for air, clutching onto my thigh as she catches her breath.

I reach down and pick her up so her legs wrap around my waist, holding her to me with one arm while I turn off the water with the other. Grabbing a towel from the bar I drape it across her back and exit the glass shower, setting her on the counter.

She shivers, quiet as she watches me, letting me pat her dry with another towel. I step between her legs, tilting her head back with the crook of my finger and take in her red eyes, her swollen, abused mouth. I kiss her gently, and she grips the edge of the counter.

“You did so good,” I whisper into her mouth and I feel the corner of her lips tilt up into a smile. “Letting me use you like that.” I kiss the side of her mouth, her temple, her forehead and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

“I liked that,” she says to the floor, so quietly I nearly miss it as she pulls the towel closer to her. I place both my hands on either side of her on the counter, bracketing her to me. “I like how you look at me, Noah.”

A roar inside me signals victory. “You’re such a fucking good girl, Emma.” Her breath hitches at the words and I smirk into the spot I’m kissing below her ear. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’ve got another big day tomorrow of reading on the couch and eating snacks with Bo.”

A surprising giggle escapes her and I realize the way I said it probably sounds like me and Jesse are chaperoning Bo and Emma on their endless slumber party.

Why does it feel that way? It obviously shouldn’t.

I set her down from the counter and she moves to her dresser to brush her hair and pull on pajamas.

Once more, she looks perfectly innocent, but now I’m starting to know better.

Maybe there’s been a siren underneath the whole time, unaccessed and buried by the man who forced her to be a chaste, virginal shadow of herself.

Honestly, I’m probably doing her a favor. Being so repressed can’t be healthy.

She blinks up at me when I walk over, dressed back in the clothes I’d shed in such a hurry to get to her naked body.

“No more bratty antics tonight, okay? I’ll be watching,” I say, and she bites back a smile. Without thinking, I kiss her again. A softer kiss that says I’ll miss her before I realized that I would.

“Goodnight,” she says, turning for her bed.

I walk to her door, looking back again before I leave to watch her climbing under her blankets, her damp hair splashed against the pillow. In the moonlight she looks like heaven, but the shadow of the bars stretching across her blanket mars the image.

I don’t like it.