Mercy (26 page)

“Am I hurting your ankle?”

I think at that point I could have felt nothing, no pain or discomfort, with the measure of lust running through my veins. He thrust inside me, so slowly, rocking against me, stretching me so gradually it seemed to take a minute or more before he was fully seated inside. When he was, he buried his face in my neck and drew his hips back and thrust deep inside me again. He felt so perfect. He fit inside me so exactly, moved so expertly, the way he always had. My whole body thrummed with pleasure as he plowed in and out of me. Within moments, the arousal of every sense, every nerve converged into a shattering orgasm. I clung to him, shuddered and shook with the power of what I felt for him.

He laughed against my ear, feeling my walls contract around him. “Little Lucy, you come as well as you ever did. Come again for me. Over and over.”

I did too, before he was done with me. My world was reduced to a wonderland of presses and sighs, grasps and thrusts and Matthew’s lips on mine, and all over my body. How had I lived without him those many weeks? How could I ever live without him again?

When I came for the last time, he came with me and fell over me, exhausted. He held me close and sighed. I clung to him, unwilling to let him go.

“Lucy.” That was all he said for a long time.

Then, “Lucy, I tried not to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to. It’s not what I planned.” He said it so sadly, so wretchedly, my heart ached for him.

“Why is that so bad? To fall in love with me?”

“Because if you leave me...if you leave me, I won’t survive it. Not you. Not this time.”

“I won’t leave you. I won’t. Do you really love me? Please tell me, do you love me now?”

“You know I’ve loved you for an eternity. And it’s hurt like hell, hurt much more than anything I’ve ever put you through.”

I buried my face in his neck. “I love you too, Matthew. I want to be whatever you want. I want to make you happy.”

He made a soft sound. “That’s what I’ve always wanted for you. When I saw you at the Gala—” His voice cut off and he buried his face against my ear. “When I saw you dance at the Gala, I had to leave. I told you I had a phone call, that I missed that party because of a call. But the truth is, I was outside in my car.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why did you leave?”

“Because it was too much, how I felt. The desire I felt to possess you, the drive to make you mine. I would have given my entire fortune that night, all of it, just to hold you in my arms.”

“But you’re holding me in your arms right now. For free.”

“But then, I had no way to do that. You’d already blown off my tentative attempts to get closer to you. So I just sat in my car, insane with jealousy.”

“Jealousy of who?”

“Whoever was going to get you that wasn’t me. Whatever normal, vanilla man would get you and not know what treasure he had in his hands.”

“Matthew,” I said after a long silence. “Did you really know right away, that I would want what you give me?”

“Yes. I told you, I knew the moment I saw you. I knew before, when I saw those paintings.” He laughed. “Those paintings are obscene.”

“They’re only obscene to you.”

“High pornography. I don’t know how everyone else can’t see it, the submission in your pose.”

“Maybe only you were meant to see it.”

“Me and my wallet,” he snorted, and I laughed.

I thought of the paintings, thought of myself posing for them, alive in the knowledge that I was being used. Used to make a painting, used for my body, used for the curves of my neck, hips, and ass. I had been Matthew’s submissive in my heart, in my mind, from the second I laid eyes on him, and now, at long last, I was in the hands of my match, the man who had known even from an image on canvas how badly I needed to be controlled.

“Matthew, please don’t ever leave me. We belong together.”

“I know.”

“Promise you’ll never leave me. Please.”

“I’m more worried about you leaving me. You’re young, you’re so beautiful. I’m an old man next to you. And you’ve already left me once.”

“You’re what? Forty years old? With the libido of a teenage boy. I think you could
outfuck
an eighteen year old.”

“Not forever. I won’t be able to do that forever.”

“Oh, I think you will. Anyway, what about me? I’m decrepit. My joints are giving out and my career’s almost through.”

“Retire then and be my concubine,” he teased. “Live to serve me, like Slave.”

I made a retching sound. “No, I don’t think so.”

We lay in silence for a long while after our laughter died down, breathing in perfect cadence, our bodies entwined.

“I won’t be any softer on you because I love you,” he said when he spoke again. “I’ll actually be harder over time.”

I shivered with lust and excitement to hear that. Speechless with gratitude, I bit down on his neck. He drew his breath in and slapped my ass. “No biting, Lucy. I’ve told you that how many times now?”

I hummed and ground against him, and he chuckled at my inability to find control.

“I see some re-training will be in order, little girl. Making up for lost time.”

“Yes, sir.”
Yes, yes, yes.

The next night he asked me if I was well enough to go with him to the basement.

I told him yes, I absolutely was.

* * *

So that’s how I became Matthew’s girlfriend, in addition to being his submissive and slave. He still used the favored endearments,
tramp
and
slut
and
whore
, but he added some new ones too.
Darling. Precious. My love.

Soon after that night, he acquired
Pietro’s
third painting of me. He wouldn’t tell me what he’d had to pay to make it his. He only told me he’d wanted to own them all, and I hoped, I truly hoped
Pietro
hadn’t been too cruel in his price.

We played down in the basement and our sessions were more fun than they’d ever been. The first night back at our games, I was beside myself with restlessness. He knew it and made me go downstairs early, to strip and kneel in the middle of the room and wait. I knelt there, horny and wet, so wet I’m amazed the moisture didn’t run down my legs. I waited and imagined the things he would do to me, and by the time he came to me, I was reckless with need.

He came to me naked and already rock hard. He stood in front of me and I stared at his cock. I opened my mouth to take him inside, but he lifted my chin instead and turned my face up to his.

“I know you want me, you horny little slut. Did you touch yourself, or did you wait patiently for me?”

“I waited, sir.”

“What about while we were apart? Did you ever touch yourself? Play with yourself while you were thinking of me?”

“Yes, a lot of times,” I admitted guiltily. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Why?” he asked, with an edge of arousal. “Why couldn’t you control yourself? Did you sleep with any other men?”

“No,” I said, horrified at the idea. “But I dreamed of you often.”

“You dreamed of me? What kind of things? What did you dream about?”

“About you hurting me.” My voice trembled from the intent way he stared.

“What did I do to you in your dreams? Tell me everything.”

I wanted to groan with frustration. I didn’t want to talk, not right now. But I obediently told him, “You fucked my ass, and then you beat me—”

“Specifics,” he snapped. “Kneel up straight and tell me a story. And remember, I’m still deciding how to punish you, so it would be in your best interest to make it good.”

“You made me bend over the ottoman and you restrained me—”

“How?”

“With the cuffs. You made me part my legs, and you...thrust really hard into my ass. You really fucked me hard...”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes, sir.” His cock was bobbing in front of me. “Can I suck you now?”

“You’ll suck me when I tell you to, you little cock whore, and not a moment before. What happened in your dream after I
assfucked
you?”

“I came without permission, and you...used your cane on me.”

He smiled broadly. “The cane? Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many strokes?”

“Twenty,” I admitted with mounting dread.

“You like being caned.”

“No, sir.”

“It wasn’t a question. Twenty with a cane, huh? And you jerked off over that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When you woke up from your dream?”

“Yes. I was desperate to come.”

“You’re a naughty little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

He pinched my nipples until I yelped.

“You are all the time. Open your mouth, Lucy.”

Before I could part my lips fully, he thrust between them, but I was ready for him, my mouth hot and wet. I sucked him as he pulled painfully on my nipples. Then he let go and held onto my head, curling his fingers into my hair.

“I’m glad what we do turns you on, Lucy, but we have rules. You get twenty for touching yourself without permission. And you did it how many times?”

I moaned around his cock. It would have meant hundreds of strokes. Thousands.

He laughed. “Lick my balls, Lucy. Do it really nice, the way you were taught.” He groaned as I ran my tongue over his sack, lapping at him eagerly. “If you do it real nice, if you suck me off good and swallow all my cum, I might have mercy on you. I might give you twenty and call it a deal.”

I moaned and took his cock in my mouth again, deep
throating
his length. I was out of practice, but I managed not to gag.

“That’s a good girl.” Before he came, he pulled out and came on my mouth and my breasts. I licked his
jizz
from my lips the way he’d taught me, and he rubbed in the cum on my breasts while he tugged at my nipples a few more times. Then he put his fingers to my mouth.

“Lick it off. Savor it, you little slut.”

And I savored every drop. I loved his fingers and the taste of his cum. I licked his fingers until they shone and again licked my lips, delicate as a cat.

“Crawl to the ottoman and bend yourself over it. How many do you get for touching yourself?”

“Twenty, sir.”

“Would you like me to use the cane?”

“No, sir.”

He laughed. “Noted. But I choose.” I looked up at him from the ottoman, watched his mind work. “Let’s try a new toy.”

He returned with a thick leather strap I’d never seen before. He dropped it in front of my face, along with a condom and the itchy lube. I shivered a little.

“I’m going to fuck your ass first, Lucy, and then I’m going to beat you with this.”